can get me out of here and back home, I shall think there is a God
again. I was beginning to doubt that and everything else."

A voice came up the stairs, raised rather loudly.

"You must pardon me, Madam, but I am quite sure both my nieces are
here," said my Uncle Charles's welcome tones.

I rushed to the door again.

"This way, Uncle Charles!" I cried. "Hatty, where is your bonnet?"

"I don't know. They took all my outdoor things away."

"Tie my scarf over your head, and get into the chair. As my Uncle
Charles is here, I can walk very well."

He had come up now, and stood looking at Hatty's white, miserable face.
If he had seen it a few minutes earlier, he would have thought the
misery far greater.

"Well, this is a pretty to-do!" cried my Uncle. "Hatty, child, these
wretches have used you ill. Why on earth did you stay with them?"

"At first I did not want to get away, Uncle," she said, "and afterwards
I could not."

We went down-stairs. Mrs Crossland was standing in the door of the
drawing-room, with thin, shut-up lips, and a red, angry spot on either
cheek. Inside the room I caught a glimpse of Annabella, looking
woefully white and frightened. Mr Crossland I could nowhere see.

"Madam," said my Uncle Charles, sarcastically, "I will thank you to give
up those other young ladies, my nieces' cousins. If they wish to remain
in London, they can do so, but it will not be in Charles Street. Did
you not tell me, Cary, that their father wished them to come home?"

"My Aunt Kezia said that he intended to write to them to say so," I
answered, feeling as though it were about a year since I had received my
Aunt Kezia's letter.

"Really, Sir!" Mrs Crossland began, "the father of these gentlewomen
consigned them to my care--"

"And I take them out of your care," returned my Uncle Charles. "I will
take the responsibility to Mr Bracewell."

"I'll take all the responsi-what's-its-name," said Charlotte, suddenly
appearing among us. "Thank you, Mr Desborough; I'd rather not stop
here when Hatty is gone. Emily!" she shouted.

Amelia came down-stairs with her bonnet on, and Charlotte's in her hand.
"You can't go without a bonnet, my dear child."

"Oh, pother!" cried Charlotte, seizing her bonnet by the strings, and
sticking it on the top of her head anyhow it liked.

"One word before we leave, Mr Desborough, if you please," said Amelia,
with more dignity than I had thought she possessed. "I have str