tion to
which Mrs. Warren had taken tickets. They got out, and walked down a
winding country lane.

"Is this real, real country?" asked Connie.

"Yus--too real for me."

"Oh ma'am, it's bootiful! But I dunna see the flowers."

"Flowers don't grow in the winter, silly."

"Don't they? I thought for sure I'd see 'em a-blowin' and a-growin'. Yer
said so--yer mind."

"Well, so yer wull, come springtime, ef ye're a good gel. Now, I want to
talk wid yer wery serious-like."

"Oh ma'am, don't!" said poor Connie.

"None o' yer 'dont's' wid me! You ha' got to be very thankful to me for
all I'm a-doin' for yer--feedin yer, and cockerin' yer up, and makin' a
fuss o' yer, and brushing out yer 'air, and giving yer blue ties, and
boots, and gloves."

"Oh ma'am, yes," said Connie; "and I'm wery much obleeged--I am,
truly--but I'd rayther a sight rayther, go 'ome to father; I would,
ma'am."

"Wot little gels 'ud like isn't wot little gels 'ull get," said Mrs.
Warren. "You come to me of yer own free will, and 'avin' come, yer'll
stay. Ef yer makes a fuss, or lets out to anybody that yer don't like
it, I've a little room in my house--a room widdout no light and no
winder, and so far away from any other room that yer might scream
yerself sick and no one 'ud 'ear. Into that room yer goes ef yer makes
trouble. And now, listen."

Mrs. Warren gripped Connie's arm so tight that the poor child had to
suppress a scream.

"I know wot ye're been saying to Agnes--a-grumblin' and a-grumblin' to
Agnes, instead o' down on yer knees and thankin' the Almighty that
yer've found Mammy Warren. I know all about it: Yer'll stop that--d'yer
'ear--d'yer 'ear?"

"Yus, ma'am," said Connie.

"Do yer, promise?"

"Yus, ma'am," said the poor child again.

"I'll see as yer keeps it--yer little good-for-nothing beggar maid as
I'm a-pamperin' of! Don't I work for yer, and toil for yer? And am I to
have naught but grumbles for my pains? Yer won't like that room--an'
it's there!"

"I won't grumble," said Connie, terrified, and not daring to do anything
but propitiate her tyrant.

Mrs. Warren's manner altered.

"Wull," she said, "I ha' brought yer down all this long way to 'ave a
plain talk, and I guess we 'ave 'ad it. You please me, and I'll do my
dooty by you; but don't please me, and there ain't a gel in the whole of
Lunnon'll be more misrubble than you. Don't think as yer'll git aw'y,
for yer won't--no, not a bit o' it. And now I've something