upon his. He paused at length; it was before a large, lofty brick
building at the corner of a block. No better in its moral indications
than other houses around; this was merely one of mammoth proportions.
At the corner a flight of stone steps went down to a cellar floor.
Standing just at the top of these steps, Matilda could look down and
partly look in; though there seemed little light below but what came
from this same entrance way. The stone steps were swept. But at the
bottom there was nothing but a mud floor; doubtless dry in some
weathers, but at this time of encumbering snow it was stamped into mud.
Also down there, in the doubtful light, Matilda discerned an overturned
broken chair and a brown jug; and even caught a glimpse of the corner
of a small cooking stove. People lived there! or at least cooked and
eat, or perhaps sold liquor. Matilda looked up, partly in wonder,
partly in dismay, to Mr. Wharncliffe's face.

"This is the place," he said; and his face was grave enough then.
"Would you like to go in?"

"This?" said Matilda bewildered. "_This_ isn't the place? She don't
live _here?_ Does anybody live here?"

"Come down and let us see. You need not be afraid," he said. "There is
no danger."

Very unwillingly Matilda let the hand that held her draw her on to
descend the steps. If this was Sarah's home, she did not wonder at the
girl's hesitation about making it known. Sarah was quite right; it was
no place fit for Matilda to come to. How could she help letting Sarah
see by her face how dreadful she thought it?

Meanwhile she was going down the stone steps. They landed her in a
cellar room; it was nothing but a cellar; and without the clean dry
paving of brick or stone which we have in the cellars of our houses.
The little old cooking stove was nearly all the furniture; two or three
chairs or stools were around, but not one of them whole; and in two
corners were heaps, of what? Matilda could not make out anything but
rags, except a token of straw in one place. There was a forlorn table
besides with a few specimens of broken crockery upon it. A woman was
there; very poor though not _bad_-looking; two bits of ragged boys; and
lastly Sarah herself, decent and grave, as she had just come from
Sunday school, sitting on a box with her lesson book in her hand. She
got up quickly and came forward with a surprised face, in which there
shone also that wintry gleam of pleasure that Matilda had seen in it
before. T