Katherine hastened to question Susan, and found that her mother, a
char-woman, lived near. She despatched the little girl to fetch her,
and, after some parleying, agreed to give her half a crown if she would
remain for the night, determining to pay it herself rather than mention
the subject to the ogre upstairs. Then she put her hat straight and
resumed her gloves. "I must bid you good-morning now," she said. "This
mother of Susan's looks a respectable woman, and will not ask you for
any money. Will you not let me get you some tea and sugar before I go,
and something for--"

"No!" cried the old man. "I have some tea. It is all that----robber
left behind her. I want nothing more. Mind you come back to-morrow. If
you are my brother's daughter (though it is no recommendation!) I'll do
something for you. If you are _not_, I'd--I'd like to give you a piece
of my mind." He laughed a fiendish, spiteful laugh as he said this.

"Then accept my thanks beforehand," said Katherine smiling a little
wearily.

She was very tired. It was an oppressive day, and she had been under a
mental strain of no small severity. Now she was longing to be at home to
tell her mother all her strange adventures, and she had yet to find out
by what route she should return.

Once more she said good-by. Mr. Liddell followed her to the door, with
an air of seeing her safe off the premises, rather than of courtesy, and
Katherine quickly retraced her steps to the place where she had
alighted, hoping to find that universal referee, a policeman, who would
no doubt set her on her homeward way.