d Anne, hopefully; 'she'll
_never_ wait till to-morrow morning to find us.'

'I don't know,' I said. 'I can't make anything out. I think it's as if
we were all dead and buried, and nobody cares.'

'Hush,' said a clear little voice; 'that's not good, Jack. _God_ cares,
always.'

'It was poor little Maudie, and again I heard the choky sob from Serena.

Just then, as if in answer to Maud, _at last_ we heard a sound, or
sounds--voices and footsteps, and then the grating of the key in the
lock.

'They've come for us, they've come for us!' we cried, and up we all
jumped. It was quite dark, but as the door opened a light came in; the
people, whoever they were, had a lantern. But it wasn't Mr. Parsley, nor
his wife, nor the red-eared boy, nor any one we knew--at least, not any
one we expected. It was--the light was full in her face, and she was
frowning just the sort of way I remembered--it was Miss Cross-at-first!

And just fancy what I did? I ran at her, I was so confused and stupid,
calling her _that_!

'Oh, Miss Cross-at-first,' I said, 'please let us out! We've been locked
in, hours, and Maud is so cold!'

It must have been awfully muddling for _her_. She frowned worse than
ever, and turned to the girl with her--a girl about fifteen, not a lady,
but very nice.

'Who are they, Linny?' she said. 'Do you know?'

But Linny shook her head.

'Some mistake,' she began, but I interrupted her.

'I'll tell you who we are,' I said. 'You know us, and we know you, but I
can't remember your proper name,' and then it flashed upon me what I
had called her, and I got scarlet.

'My name isn't "Crossley," or whatever you said,' she began (oh, how
thankful I was she hadn't heard properly! _Afterwards_ we told her the
name we'd given her, and she didn't mind a bit), 'but I seem to know
you. I'm staying at the Home here. I left my music in church, for I went
off in a hurry. But what in the world were you all doing here?'

'We came to listen to you,' I said, and then Anne went on to explain.
She did it so nicely, not exactly putting the blame on Serry, which
would not have been kind just then, but she quite made Miss Merthyr
understand.

'You poor little souls!' she exclaimed. 'Of course, I remember hearing
you were somewhere down here, but I've been away. I only came back again
a few days ago. And Maud, poor child, you _do_ look blue. I'll tell you
what, come back to the Home with me and get warm. Linny, run back and
tell th