you do with your children? Where will you hide them? What will you do with this one?"
Georgina rested her eyes on her lap for a minute; then, raising them, she met those of Mrs. Portico. "Somewhere in Europe," she said, in her sweet tone.
"Georgina Gressie, you're a monster!" the elder lady cried.
"I know what I am about, and you will help me," the girl went on.
"I will go and tell your father and mother the whole story,—that's what I will do!"
"I am not in the least afraid of that, not in the least. You will help me,—I assure you that you will."
"Do you mean I will support the child?"
Georgina broke into a laugh. "I do believe you would, if I were to ask you! But I won't go so far as that; I have something of my own. All I want you to do is to be with me."
"At Genoa,—yes, you have got it all fixed! You say Mr. Benyon is so fond of the place. That's all very well; but how will he like his infant being deposited there?"
"He won't like it at all. You see I tell you the whole truth," said Georgina, gently.
"Much obliged; it's a pity you keep it all for me! It is in his power, then, to make you behave properly. He can publish your marriage if you won't; and if he does you will have to acknowledge your child."
