etty; her voice
too, though she spoke a little crossly. She was rather tall, and her
hair was wavy, almost as wavy as Elf's, and the colour of her dress,
which was pinky-red, and everything about her, seemed to suit, and I
just stood--we all did--staring at her.

And as soon as she caught sight of us--I daresay we seemed quite a
little crowd at the door--she stared too!

Then she came forward quickly, her voice growing anxious, and almost
frightened.

'What is the matter?' she exclaimed. 'Has there been an accident? Who
are these--children?'

Browner moved towards her.

'Indeed, Miss,' she began, but the girl stopped her.

'Shut the door first,' she said decidedly. 'No, no, come in, please,'
this was to me; I suppose I seemed to hesitate, 'and tell me what you
want, and who you are?'

Her voice grew more hesitating as she went on, and it must have been
very difficult to make out what sort of beings we were. Margaret's
colourless face and dark eyes and hair, and the bright red of the
bundle, at the first hasty glance, might almost have made you think of a
little Italian wandering musician; but the moment I spoke I think the
girl saw we were not that class.

'We are friends of Mrs. Wylie's--Mrs. Wylie who lives at Rock Terrace,'
I said, 'and--and we've come to her because--oh! because we've got into
a lot of trouble, and the fog's made it worse, and we don't know
anybody else in London.'

Then, all of a sudden--I'm almost ashamed to tell it, even though it's a
good while ago now, and I really was scarcely more than a little boy
myself--something seemed to get into my throat, and I felt as if in
another moment it would turn into a sob.

Margaret is awfully quick in some ways. She heard the choke in my voice
and darted to me, leaving the bundle to Pete's tender mercies; so half
of it dropped on to the floor and half stuck to him, as he stood there
staring with his round blue eyes.

Margaret stretched up and flung her arms round my neck.

'Giles, Giles,' she cried, 'don't, oh don't!' Then she burst out--

'It's all my fault; at least it's all for me, and Giles and Perkins have
been so good to me. Oh dear, oh dear, what shall I do?' and she began
coughing again in a miserable way. I think it was partly that she was
trying not to cry.

Seeing her so unhappy, made me pull myself together. I was just going to
explain things a little to the girl, when she spoke first. She looked
very kind and sorry.

'I'll te