Lavinia had a sudden heartening, and lest the feeling should slacken she seized the heavy bell-pull and gave it a violent tug. The door was opened almost immediately by a fat hall porter who scowled when he saw a girl instead of the footman of a fine lady in her chair. "What d'ye want? A-ringing the bell like that one would think you was my Lord Mayor." "I'm neither the Lord Mayor nor the Lady Mayoress, as your own eyes ought to tell you. I wish to see Mr. Gay." "Well, you can't," said the porter gruffly. "He's not here. He's staying with Mr. Pope at Twitnam." "Twitnam? Where is Twitnam?" "Up the river." "How far? Can I walk there?" "May be, but you hadn't better go on foot. It's a goodish step--ten or a dozen miles. You might go by waggon, there isn't no other way save toe and heel. An' let me give you warning, young 'oman, the roads aren't safe after dark. D'rectly you get to Knightsbridge footpads is ten a penny, let alone 'ighwaymen. Not that you're _their_ game--leastways by the looks o' you." "Thank you. I'm not afraid, but you mean your advice kindly and I'll not forget it. Mr. Gay's at Mr. Pope's house you say?" "Mr. Pope's villa--he calls it. Mr. Pope's the great writer." "I've heard of him. Which is the way after I've left Knightsbridge?" "Why, straight along. Don't 'ee turn nayther to the right or the left, Kensington--'Ammersmith--Turn'am Green--Brentford--you goes through 'em all, if you don't get a knock on the 'ead on the way or a bullet through ye. One's as likely to 'appen as the other. I wouldn't answer fer your getting safe and sound to Twitnam unless you goes by daylight." "That's what I must do then," said Lavinia resignedly. "Thank you kindly." "You're welcome, I hope as how that pretty face o' yours won't get ye into trouble. It's mighty temptin'. I'd like a kiss myself." "Would you? Then you won't have one. As for my face, I haven't any other so I must put up with it." Dropping a curtsey of mock politeness Lavinia hastened away and did not slacken her pace till she reached Piccadilly and was facing the large open space now known as the Green Park. It was a lovely evening and the western sun though beginning to descend, still shone brightly. The long grass invited repose and Lavinia sat down on a gentle hillock to think what her next step must be. She was greatly disappointed at not finding Mr. Gay. She was sure he would have forgiven her escapade; he would have helped her over the two difficulties facing her--very little money and no shelter for the night. Of the two the latter was most to be dreaded. "A year ago," she thought, "it wouldn't have mattered very much. The Covent Garden women and men from the country are kind-hearted. I'd have had a corner in a waggon and some hay to lie upon without any bother, and breakfast the next morning into the bargain. But now--in these clothes--what would they take me for?"