Mrs. Court for once, and I'll have such
tales to tell you when I come back."

So Netty went to find old Mrs. Court, and between them they arranged for
the baby's comfort on the following day and Mrs. Court was to have her
twopence in the evening.

But the best-made plans do not always come to pass, for Netty that
evening received a lecture from her Mother on the subject of Mrs. Court.

"What is this I hear?" cried the good woman; "that you mean to give baby
to the care of that old woman! Not a bit of it! I wouldn't allow the
baby to be seen in her rooms for all you could give me. What do you want
to get rid of the baby for? And what are you trying to hide from me,
Netty?"

"It's nothing really, Mother; it's just that Ben and I are going to walk
to Battersea Park, and we've a penny apiece to buy buns. You won't stop
us going, Mother?"

"Now aren't you an unnatural girl!" cried Mrs. Floss. "Why shouldn't you
take the poor baby with you? Wouldn't he like a sight of the park and
the green trees as well as you? If you take the baby with you, I'll give
you each another penny, and an extra one for the baby, and you can all
have a good time; now what do you say?"

"I suppose I must do it, Mother," answered Netty; "and you're very
kind," she hastened to add.

Mrs. Floss was far too busy to spend any more time talking to Netty. She
regarded the affair as absolutely settled, and went downstairs to tell
Mrs. Court that she was not to have the pleasure of looking after the
baby the following day.

The next morning broke gloriously fine. Even as early as six o'clock it
was intensely hot in the attic where Netty slept. She had laid out all
her best things the night before--her blue cotton frock, carefully
washed and mangled, her cape to match, her sailor hat, somewhat ragged
round the brim, but not very dirty; even her cotton gloves. These last
she regarded as great treasures, and imagined that they would give a
distinctly genteel air to her appearance.

As there was no possible way out of it, she must take the baby, too, and
she must just trust to luck to pulling the thing through. She knew
enough about tramways and omnibuses and railway carriages to be aware
that a baby in arms costs nothing, and she did not mind little Dan's
weight--she was accustomed to it; and she would like very much, as far
as she herself was concerned, to take him to the seaside.

Accordingly, the baby was also got early out of his wooden cot, and