Mattie turned to the left at the end of Great Suffolk Street, and proceeded at a rapid pace towards the railway station; there were stragglers still in the Borough--a broad thoroughfare, that never rests, but is ever alive with sound. Life still at the great terminus; a train hissing and fuming from its long journey, a handful of passengers by the mail, a few cabmen still looking out for fares, guards full of bustle as usual, one Kent Street gamin out on business, and dodging the policeman behind a Patent Safety. Mattie went to business at once. "Has any accident happened on the line to-night, sir?" "Not any." "What is the next train from New Cross that will reach here?" "No train calls at New Cross till six in the morning." "What is the next train that will leave here and call at New Cross?" "Twenty minutes to six." "Oh! dear." A short spasmodic sigh, and then Mattie turned away and went back to Great Suffolk Street, opened the door, and stole cautiously up-stairs to the room wherein Harriet had been sleeping. Not there--still away from home! "If anything has happened, I must be the first to find it out," thought Mattie, descending the stairs, listening at the foot thereof, and then passing out into the street again, closing the shop-door very cautiously behind her. She had made up her mind to walk at once to New Cross, to seek out the Eveleighs, whose address she thought that she remembered. She went on at a rapid pace, with her veil thrown back, and her face full of interest--not a woman in the streets, hurrying like herself on special missions, or lurking at street corners, but Mattie glanced at for an instant as she sped along. She was a quick walker and lost no time; after all, New Cross was not a great distance away; she was not easily tired, and once in action, her fears for Harriet went further into the distance. She began to think, almost to hope, that Harriet would be at the Eveleighs', and all would end with a wild fancy on her part, at which Harriet and she would laugh later in the day. Down the Dover Road, past the Bricklayer's Arms, and along the Old Kent Road, till the long lines of closed shops ended in long lines of private houses, the railway station and the Royal Naval School--that model of good management, by which we recommend all directors of seedy institutions to profit. Near the railway station Mattie found a policeman, who directed her to the particular terrace wherein the Eveleighs were located. It was nearly half-past five when she read by the light of the street lamp the name of Eveleigh on the brass plate affixed to the iron gate. With her hands upon the gate, Mattie held a council of war with herself as to the best method of procedure.