the houses were more
numerous, and then that the fields were gone, and then that she was in
London--hot, smoky, noisy London once more.

"It is very annoying for you," said Mr. Webster to his wife in a low
tone, which yet was distinct enough to Juliet's young ears--"very
annoying for you to be obliged to go to the other side of the city,
when your mother expects you at eleven o'clock. But there is no help
for it. I have to go down to Westminster. I don't suppose I shall see
you till we meet at Paddington to come back by the 7:45 train. I will
put you and the child into an omnibus in Praed Street, and when you
get out Juliet Mitchell must guide you to her home."

Even the West-end was hot and steamy on that broiling August day.
Never before had Juliet thought London so unpleasant; the reason being
that this was the first time she could contrast the town with the
country. It seemed to her that the further she went through the
streets the thicker the air became, the dimmer the light, the dingier
the houses. And so indeed it was. And when she brought Mrs. Webster
into the street which contained No. 103, she wondered how that lady
would like to exchange Littlebourne vicarage for an East-end vicarage.

An almost similar thought was passing through Mrs. Webster's mind, or
rather, the same thought reversed.

"Juliet," she said, "I wonder how your father and mother would like to
leave London and come and live at Littlebourne?"

"I don't know, ma'am," answered Juliet.

"I have heard a good deal about them from Mrs. Rowles. Your father
would have better health if he lived in the country."

By this time they had reached No. 103. Juliet's heart was beating at
the sight of the well-known door-step of her home. She forgot all
about Mrs. Webster, and ran on. There were lots of boys and girls
playing in the street; some called out to her, some stared at Mrs.
Webster. But Juliet took no notice; only ran on, climbed up the dear
old dirty, steep stairs without bannisters, and got to the door of the
back attic, followed closely by her companion.

The girl did not knock, but rushed in, and then stood aghast. A
strange woman was there but no one else.

"Where is mother?" cried Juliet.

"Whose mother?" responded the strange woman.

"My mother."

"Ain't she got e'er a name?"

"Yes; she's Mrs. Mitchell."

"Oh, the Mitchell lot has gone into the front room, if you please.
Going up again in the world, I can tell you."

Juliet