e boy should be disturbed. Dear
little child, I have often heard of him, and of you, miss," says the
little householder, rising. "I will get you some dinner, my dear, for
Clive's sake. And meanwhile your ladyship will have the kindness to seek
for some other apartments--for not a bit shall my fire cook for any
one else of your company." And with this the indignant little landlady
sailed out of the room.

"Gracious goodness! Who is the woman?" cries Lady Anne. "I never was so
insulted in my life."

"Oh, mamma, it was you began!" says downright Ethel. "That is--Hush,
Alfred dear!--Hush, my darling!"

"Oh, it was mamma began! I'm so hungry! I'm so hungry!" howled the
little man on the sofa--or off it rather--for he was now down on the
ground, kicking away the shawls which enveloped him.

"What is it, my boy? What is it, my blessed darling? You shall have your
dinner! Give her all, Ethel. There are the keys of my desk--there's my
watch--there are my rings. Let her take my all. The monster! the child
must live! It can't go away in such a storm as this. Give me a cloak,
a parasol, anything--I'll go forth and get a lodging. I'll beg my bread
from house to house--if this fiend refuses me. Eat the biscuits, dear!
A little of the syrup, Alfred darling; it's very nice, love! and come to
your old mother--your poor old mother."

Alfred roared out, "No--it's not n-ice: it's n-a-a-asty! I won't
have syrup. I will have dinner." The mother, whose embraces the child
repelled with infantine kicks, plunged madly at the bells, rang them
all four vehemently, and ran downstairs towards the parlour, whence Miss
Honeyman was issuing.

The good lady had not at first known the names of her lodgers, but had
taken them in willingly enough on Dr. Goodenough's recommendation. And
it was not until one of the nurses entrusted with the care of Master
Alfred's dinner informed Miss Honeyman of the name of her guest, that
she knew she was entertaining Lady Anne Newcome; and that the pretty
girl was the fair Miss Ethel; the little sick boy, the little Alfred
of whom his cousin spoke, and of whom Clive had made a hundred little
drawings in his rude way, as he drew everybody. Then bidding Sally run
off to St. James's Street for a chicken--she saw it put on the spit, and
prepared a bread sauce, and composed a batter-pudding as she only knew
how to make batter-puddings. Then she went to array herself in her best
clothes, as we have seen,--as we have hear