But where was she to go?  Anywhere beyond his reach, was no reply to the question.  Somewhere must be thought of.  She determined to go to her guardian, and to go immediately.  The feeling she had imparted to Helena on the night of their first confidence, was so strong upon her—­the feeling of not being safe from him, and of the solid walls of the old convent being powerless to keep out his ghostly following of her—­that no reasoning of her own could calm her terrors.  The fascination of repulsion had been upon her so long, and now culminated so darkly, that she felt as if he had power to bind her by a spell.  Glancing out at window, even now, as she rose to dress, the sight of the sun-dial on which he had leaned when he declared himself, turned her cold, and made her shrink from it, as though he had invested it with some awful quality from his own nature.

She wrote a hurried note to Miss Twinkleton, saying that she had sudden reason for wishing to see her guardian promptly, and had gone to him; also, entreating the good lady not to be uneasy, for all was well with her.  She hurried a few quite useless articles into a very little bag, left the note in a conspicuous place, and went out, softly closing the gate after her.

It was the first time she had ever been even in Cloisterham High Street alone.  But knowing all its ways and windings very well, she hurried straight to the corner from which the omnibus departed.  It was, at that very moment, going off.

’Stop and take me, if you please, Joe.  I am obliged to go to London.’

In less than another minute she was on her road to the railway, under Joe’s protection.  Joe waited on her when she got there, put her safely into the railway carriage, and handed in the very little bag after her, as though it were some enormous trunk, hundredweights heavy, which she must on no account endeavour to lift.

’Can you go round when you get back, and tell Miss Twinkleton that you saw me safely off, Joe

‘It shall be done, Miss.’

‘With my love, please, Joe.’

‘Yes, Miss—­and I wouldn’t mind having it myself!’ But Joe did not articulate the last clause; only thought it.

Now that she was whirling away for London in real earnest, Rosa was at leisure to resume the thoughts which her personal hurry had checked.  The indignant thought that his declaration of love soiled her; that she could only be cleansed from the stain of its impurity by appealing to the honest and true; supported her for a time against her fears, and confirmed her in her hasty resolution.  But as the evening grew darker and darker, and the great city impended nearer and nearer, the doubts usual in such cases began to arise.  Whether this was not a wild proceeding, after all; how Mr. Grewgious might regard it; whether she should find him at the journey’s end; how she would act if he were absent; what might become of her, alone, in a place so strange and crowded; how if she had but waited and taken counsel first; whether, if she could now go back, she would not do it thankfully; a multitude of such uneasy speculations disturbed her, more and more as they accumulated.  At length the train came into London over the housetops; and down below lay the gritty streets with their yet un-needed lamps a-glow, on a hot, light, summer night.