wly enough, but that was to be expected. I pulled up
both windows, for Margaret kept on coughing, in spite of having her
handkerchief, and Peterkin's too, for all I knew, stuffed over her mouth
and throat. They were both very quiet, but I _think_ they were rather
enjoying themselves. I suppose my taking the lead, as I had had to,
since our troubles began, and managing things, made them feel 'safe,' as
children like to do, at the bottom of their hearts, however they start
by talking big.
It _was_ a horrid fog, but the lights made it not quite so bad outside,
for the shops had got all their lamps on, and we could see them now and
then. There was a lot of shouting going on, and yet every sound was
muffled. There were not many carts or omnibuses or anything on wheels
passing, and what there were, were moving slowly like ourselves.
After a few minutes it got darker again; it must have been when we got
into Enderby Street, I suppose, for there are no shops, or scarcely any,
there. I've often and often passed along it since, but I never do
without thinking of that evening, or afternoon, for it was really not
yet four o'clock.
And then we stopped.
'Nineteen, didn't you say?' asked the driver as I jumped out.
'Yes, nineteen,' I said. 'Stop here for a moment or two, till I see if
we go in.'
For it suddenly struck me that _if_ we had the awful bad luck not to
find Mrs. Wylie, we had better keep the cab, to take us to some hotel,
otherwise it might be almost impossible to get another. And then we
should be out in the street, with Margaret and her bundle, and worse
still, her cough.
I made my way, more by feeling than seeing, up the steps, and fumbled
till I found the bell. I had not actually told the others to stay in
the cab, though I had taken care to keep the window shut when I got out,
and I never dreamt but what they'd stay where they were till I had found
out if Mrs. Wylie was there.
But just as the door opened--the servant came in double-quick time
luckily, the reason for which was explained--I heard a rustling behind
me, and lo and behold, there they both were, and the terrible red bundle
too, looking huger and queerer than ever, as the light from inside fell
on it.
We must have looked a funny lot, as the servant opened the door. She--it
was a parlour-maid--did start a little, but I didn't give her time to
speak, though I daresay she thought we were beggars, thanks to those
silly children.
'Mrs. Wyli
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