The girl gave a loud rude laugh.

"'Tis in Dean Street," she said. "Dean Street's just round the
corner--'tis number twenty. I'll turn up if I ha' money."

"But you said we could not get in without you," said Cecile.

"Well, what a bother you ere! I'll turn up if I can. You be there at
the door, and if I can I'll be there too." Then she nodded violently,
and darted out of the shop.

Cecile wondered why she was in such a hurry to go, and at the change
in her manner, but she understood it a little better when she saw
that the ragged girl had so arranged matters that Cecile had to pay
for all the dinners!

"I won't never trust ragged girls like that again," was her wise
mental comment; and then she, Maurice, and Toby recommenced their
weary walking up and down. Their dinner had once more rested and
refreshed them, and Cecile hoped they might yet find the old court in
Bloomsbury. But the great fatigue of the morning came back a little
sooner in the short and dull winter's afternoon, and the child
discovered now to her great distress that she was lagging first. The
shock and trouble she had gone through the day before began to tell
on her, and by the time Maurice suddenly burst into tears her own
footsteps were reeling.

"I think you're unkind, Cecile," said the little boy, "and I don't
believe we are ever, ever going to find our old court, or the