CHAPTER XII

To be whirled along through the crowded streets of London in a
taxi-cab for the first time in one's life must needs be a somewhat
disconcerting, even alarming experience, and Innocent was the poor
little prey of so many nervous fears during her journey to
Kensington in this fashion, that she could think of nothing and
realise nothing except that at any moment it seemed likely she
would be killed. With wide-open, terrified eyes, she watched the
huge motor-omnibuses almost bearing down upon the vehicle in which
she sat, and shivered at the narrow margin of space the driver
seemed to allow for any sort of escape from instant collision and
utter disaster. She only began to breathe naturally again when,
turning away out of the greater press of traffic, the cab began to
run at a smoother and less noisy pace, till presently, in less
time than she could have imagined possible, it drew up at a
modestly retreating little door under an arched porch in a quiet
little square, where there were some brave and pretty trees doing
their best to be green, despite London soot and smoke. Innocent
stepped out, and seeing a bell-handle pulled it timidly. The
summons was answered by a very neat maid-servant, who looked at
her in primly polite enquiry.

"Is Mrs.--or Miss 'Lavinia' at home?" she murmured. "I saw her
advertisement in the 'Morning Post.'"

The servant's face changed from primness to propitiation.