come
to the worst.

CHAPTER X

BERYL

YES, the fog _was_ a fog, and no mistake. I don't think I have ever seen
so bad a one since we came to live in London, or else it seemed to me
terribly bad that day because I was not used to it, and because I was so
anxious.

I felt half provoked and yet in a way glad that Margaret and Peterkin
were not at all frightened, but rather pleased. They followed me along
the platform after we got out of the carriage, lugging the bundle
between them. It was not really heavy, and I had to go first, as the
station was pretty full in that part, in spite of the fog. The lamps
were all lighted, but till you got within a few yards of one you
scarcely saw it.

I went on, staring about me for some one to ask advice from. At last,
close to a book-stall, where several lights together made it a little
clearer, I saw a railway man of some kind, standing, as if he was not in
a hurry.

'Can you tell me where Enderby Street is, if you please?' I asked as
civilly as I knew how.

'Enderby Street,' he repeated, in surprise. 'Of course; it's no distance
off.'

Wasn't I thankful?

'How far?' I said.

'Well--it depends upon which part of it you want. It's a long street.
But if you're a stranger you'll never find your way in this fog. Better
take a hansom.'

'Thank you,' I said. 'It's only a shilling, I suppose?'

He glanced at me again; he had been turning away. By this time the two
children were close beside me. He saw that we belonged to each other.

'A shilling for two--one-and-six for three,' he replied. 'Hansom or
four-wheeler,' and then he moved off.

Just then Margaret began to cough, and a new fear struck me. She looked
very delicate, and she had had a bad cold. Supposing the fog made her
very ill? I was glad the man had spoken of a four-wheeler.

'Stuff your handkerchief or something into your mouth,' I said, 'so as
not to get the fog down your throat. I'm going to call a four-wheeler.'

In some ways that dreadful day was not as bad as it might have been.
There were scarcely any cabs about, but just then one stopped close to
the end of the platform.

'Jump in,' I said, and before the driver had time to make any objection,
for I know they do sometimes make a great favour of taking you anywhere
in a fog, we were all inside.

I heard him growling a little, but when I put my head out of the window
again, and said '19 Enderby Street,' he smoothed down.

We drove off, slo