Growing rather tired and footsore they made their way to Piccadilly Circus, and so on to the Strand. Everywhere they found the same conditions: a few skeletons, a few deserted vehicles, young vegetation taking hold wherever a pinch of soil had found an abiding place, and over all a great silence. But food there was none that they were able to find, though it is probable that a careful investigation of cellars and underground places might have furnished some results. The more salient resources of London had been effectively pillaged so far as the West-end was concerned. They were too late. In Trafalgar Square, Millie sat down and cried. Blanche made no attempt to comfort her, but sat wide eyed and wondering. Her mind was opening to new ideas. She was beginning to understand that London was incapable of supporting even the lives of three women; she was wrestling with the problem of existence. Every one had gone. Many had died; but many more, surely, must have fled into the country. She began to understand that she and her family must also fly into the country. Millie still sobbed convulsively now and again. "Oh! Chuck it, Mill," said Blanche at last. "We'd better be getting home." Millie dabbed her eyes. "I'm starving," she blubbered. "Well, so am I," returned Blanche. "That's why I said we'd better get home. There's nothing to eat here." "Is--is every one dead?" "No, they've gone off into the country, and that's what we've got to do." The younger girl sat up, put her hat straight, and blew her nose. "Isn't it awful, B.?" she said. Blanche pinched her lips together. "What are you putting your hat straight for?" she asked. "There's no one to see you." "Well, you needn't make it any worse," retorted Millie on the verge of a fresh outburst of tears. "Oh! come on!" said Blanche, getting to her feet. "I don't believe I can walk home," complained Millie; "my feet ache so." "You'll have to wait a long time if you're going to find a bus," returned Blanche. Three empty taxicabs stood in the rank a few feet away from them, but it never occurred to either of the two young women to attempt any experiment with these mechanisms. If the thought had crossed their minds they would have deemed it absurd. "Let's go down by Victoria," suggested Blanche. "I believe it's nearer." In Parliament Square they disturbed a flock of rooks, birds which had partly changed their natural habits during the past few months and, owing to the superabundance of one kind of food, were preying on carrion. "Crows," commented Blanche. "Beastly things." "I wonder if we could get some water to drink," was Millie's reply. "Well, there's the river," suggested Blanche, and they turned up towards Westminster Bridge. In one of the tall buildings facing the river Blanche's attention was caught by an open door. "Look here, Mill," she said, "we've only been looking for shops. Let's try one of these houses. We might find something to eat in there." "I'm afraid," said Millie.