CHAPTER V.

A HOUSE WITHOUT A DOOR.


The children in their wanderings the day before, and again this
morning, had quite unknown to themselves traveled quite away from
Bloomsbury, and when they entered the church, and sat down in that
pew, and hid Toby underneath, they were in the far-famed East-End
quarter of the great town. They knew nothing of this themselves,
though Cecile did think the houses very poor and the people very
dirty. They were, therefore, doubly fortunate in coming across Mrs.
Moseley.

Mrs. Moseley was sextoness to the very new and beautiful church in
Mile End. Her husband was a policeman at present on night duty, which
accounted for his being at leisure to blow the organ in the church.
This worthy couple had a little grave to love and tend, a little
grave which kept their two hearts very green, but they had no living
child. Mrs. Moseley had, however, the largest of mother's hearts--a
heart so big that were it not for its capacity of acting mother to
every desolate child in Mr. Danvers' parish, it must have starved.
Now, she put Cecile and Maurice along with twenty more into that big
heart of hers, and they were a truly fortunate little pair when she
took them home.

Such a funny home was hers, but so clean when you got into it.