"A sweet child, bless her," he said to himself, as he turned away.
The cabby had been desired to drive the children to Mrs. West's home,
and the address Jane had written out was in his hand. The guard, too,
had paid the fare; and Cecile was told that in about half an hour
they would all find themselves in snug quarters.

"Will they give us breakfast in 'snug quarters'?" asked Maurice, who
always took things literally. "I wonder, Cecile, if 'snug quarters'
will be nice?"

Alas! poor little children. When the cab at last drew up at the door
in C---- Street, and the cabby got down and rang the bell, and then
inquired for Mrs. West, he was met by the discouraging information
that Mrs. West had left that address quite a year ago. No, they could
not tell where she had gone, but they fancied it was to America.

"What am I to do now with you two little tots, and that 'ere dawg?"
said the cabby, coming up to the cab door. "There ain't no Mrs. West
yere. And that 'ere young party"--with a jerk of his thumb at the
slatternly little individual who stood watching and grinning on the
steps--"her says as Mrs. West have gone to 'Mericy. Ain't there no
one else as I can take you to, little uns?"

"No, thank you," answered Cecile. "We'll get out, please, Cabby.
This is a nice dry street. Me, and Maurice, and Toby can walk a good
bit. You couldn't tell us though, please, what's the nearest way from
here to France?"

"To France! Bless yer little heart, I knows no jography. But look