t
half-humorous face to Peter's, 'let's take baby to the lady what cried.'

'The lady who cried?' repeated Peter. 'I don't know nothing about her,
Floss.'

'O Peter, you do know; it was that day our Uncle David took us a long
walk, and we went to the cemetery with him, you know, the place with the
flowers and the trees, and where they put the pretty little children when
they die--there was a little baby being put there, and there was a lady
crying very, very bitter. I never saw no one cry so dreadful bitter as
that lady, and they said she was putting her baby in the ground. I'm
sure she must want another baby, and I think perhaps it would be right
for us to give her Dickory.'

Peter's face became very sad. 'I don't know,' he said; 'I don't want to
give Dickory away. I'm quite dreadfully fond of her; it seems to me she
makes a lot of difference in the house, and you know, Floss, it used to
be very dull before she came.'

'Yes,' said Flossy, 'I love her more than anything; she's a dear baby,
and I never find the days long when I'm playing with her and talking to
her: but you see, Peter, she's not to be kept at home; she's to go to the
workhouse to-morrow morning, unless we can find a nice hiding-place for
her. We can't find a hiding-place, Peter, for though you are a rich boy
and have got a lot of pennies, yet you haven't enough for us to get a
room for ourselves and Dickory, and the night air don't agree with
her--oh, there, she's sneezing again--bless her, the pet! Peter, I hope
you always say "bless her!" when Dickory sneezes. Martha says it isn't
lucky if you don't. O Peter, I do think if we must part with the baby it
would be better to give her to the lady who cried than to send her to the
workhouse.'

'But we don't know where the lady lives,' said Peter. 'We might do it if
we knew where the lady lived; but we can't, however much we wish to, if
we don't.'

'But I do know,' answered Flossy, 'I know quite well, 'cause last week I
saw the lady. I was out with mother, and mother went to the
greengrocer's, and while she was there the lady comed in. She was all in
black, and I am sure she had been crying a lot, for she looked so sad;
and I knew it was her. Afterwards mother and I walked behind her as she
went home, and she turned into a great big house in the square near us.
You know the square, Peter, the square that begins with a big B; Bev---
something, I can't say it all.'

'Bevington Square,' sai