he outskirts of London.

Lavinia remembered this and hoped for the best. At such a time Mrs.
Fenton with her love of pleasure would hardly stay at home.

Lavinia hurried past grim Newgate and crossed the road. The coffee house
was on the other side. Hannah was standing in the doorway in a cruciform
attitude, her arms stretched out, each hand grasping the frame on either
side. She was gossipping with a man and laughing heartily. Lavinia
decided that her mother must be out. If at home she would never allow
Hannah this liberty. Lavinia glided to the woman and touched one of the
outstretched hands. Hannah gave a little "squark" when she felt the
girl's cold fingers.

"It's only me Hannah," whispered Lavinia.

"Only me--an' who's me?... Bless us an' save us child, what do you go
about like a churchyard ghost for? Where in 'eaven's name have ye sprung
from? I never come across anybody like you, Miss Lavvy, for a worryin'
other people. I've been a-crying my eyes out over ye."

"And mother, has she been crying too?"

"Your mother? Not she," returned Hannah with a sniff of contempt. "Catch
her a-cryin' over anything 'cept when she hasn't won a prize in a
lottery. But come you in. I've ever so much to tell you. You'd best be
off Reuben. I'll see you later."

Reuben who was one of the men employed at Coupland's soap works in the
Old Bailey, looked a little disappointed, but he obeyed nevertheless.

"You've given us a pretty fright and your lady mother's been in a mighty
tantrum. I tell you it's a wonder as she didn't tear my eyes out. She
swore as it was all my fault a lettin' you go. But what have you come
back for?"

"I had to. But don't bother, it's only for a few hours. Mother's out I
know."

"Course she is. Simpson the cattle dealer's a-beauing her to Marybone
Gardens. They won't be back this side o' midnight. Now just tell me what
you been a-doin' of. You're a pretty bag o' mischief if ever there was
one. Who's the man this time? T'aint the one as you runned away with, is
it?"

"No, indeed," cried Lavinia, indignantly. "I don't want ever to see him
again."

"Well, your mother does," returned Hannah with an odd kind of laugh.

"Whatever for?"

"I'll let you have the story d'rectly, but you tell me your tale first."

By this time they were in the shop and Hannah caught sight of Lavinia's
white, drawn face and her tear-swollen eyes.

"You poor baby. What's your fresh troubles?"

"Nothing--that is, not much