ucy sometimes, and she would help her
to be good and do well, she thought. Mrs. Ford also thought this
circumstance a favourable one, as Lucy could see for herself whether
Nelly was comfortably situated, and if not, could help her to find a
better place. So, after much consideration and some misgivings, it was
reluctantly settled that she should go. Mrs. Thompson's brother was
going to the city soon, and Nelly could accompany him.

She did not need a great deal of time for preparation, though Mrs.
Ford kindly provided her with all that was necessary for her
respectable appearance in her new place, so that she went back to the
city which had been her former abode a very different-looking girl
from the barefooted, gipsy-like child, who had wandered, uncared for,
about its streets. "I know the place well, ma'am," she said to Mrs.
Ford; "it isn't as if I had never been there. I won't feel a bit
strange." And though the spring was approaching, and she was for many
reasons very sorry to leave Ashleigh, she did not dread the thought of
going to the great city, alone and friendless, as much as a thoroughly
country-bred girl would have done.

When her travelling companion bade her good-bye at the railway
station, Nelly, not in the least frightened by the hurrying crowds and
the noisy streets, so familiar to her of old, took up her little
bundle, containing all the worldly goods she possessed, and set off
briskly to look for the address inscribed on the card she held in her
hand. She did not need to ask her way more than once, though it was a
half-hour's walk before she reached the street, and then she walked
slowly along, studying the numbers of the doors till she arrived at
the right one, bearing on a brass plate the words, "Mrs. Williams'
Boarding House." It was one of the most bare and uninviting of a dull
row, and not even the bright sunshine of the early spring could
enliven it much. Other houses had flowers or birds in the windows, or
at least pleasant glimpses of white curtains, but this one, with its
half-closed blinds, had almost a funereal aspect. Nelly had a keen
susceptibility of externals, and her heart sank a little; but she rang
the bell, determined to make the best of it. The door was opened by an
elderly woman in rusty black, with a hard, careworn face, which did
not relax into the slightest perceptible smile, as she regarded Nelly
scrutinizingly, saying at last, "Oh, you're the girl Mrs. Thompson was
to send,