CHAPTER VII
1
The Sorrells marched out of Staunton with drums beating and colours flying, and the little old portmanteau newly bestrapped trundling to the station in a handbarrow.
The Angel had cast them out, for Sorrell had walked into the lion's cage, and given notice.
"I have obtained another situation, madam."
She had stared at him fixedly.
"O, have you! Very well."
"I shall be able to carry on for you until—"
"There is a gap, is there? No,—I don't do things that way. Out you go,—to-night."
She had called him a fool, and he had left her without asking for his money, a piece of fastidiousness which he did not regret. He had packed his belongings and gone out by the back way, and so to Fletcher's Lane where Mrs. Barter had given him some supper, and he had slept in Kit's bed. In
