The next morning the children got up early. The woman of the house,
who had taken a fancy to them, gave them a good breakfast for
fourpence apiece, and Toby, who had always hitherto had share and
share alike, was now treated to such a pan of bones, and all for
nothing, that he could not touch the coffee the children offered him.

"Now," said Mrs. Hodge, "that ere dawg has got food enough and
plenty for the whole day. When a dawg as isn't accustomed to it gets
his fill o' bones 'tis wonderful how sustaining they is."

"And may we come back again here to-night, ma'am?" asked Cecile
eagerly.

But here a disappointment awaited them. Mrs. Hodge, against her
will, was obliged to shake her head. Her house was a popular one.
The little room the children had occupied was engaged for a month from
to-night. No--she was sorry--but she had not a corner of her house to
put them in. It was the merest chance her being able to take them in
for that one night.

"It is a pity you can't have us, for I don't think you're a wicked
woman," said Maurice, raising his brown eyes to scan her face solemnly.

Mrs. Hodge laughed.

"Oh! what a queer, queer little baby boy!" she said, stooping down
to kiss him. "No, my pet; it 'ud be a hard heart as 'ud be wicked to
you."

But though Mrs. Hodge was sorry, she could not help the children,