"I wanted to meet dad," returned Betty, with a little sob. "Aunt Joa was out, and I was so lonely all by myself, and Jemima was busy and told me to run away, and I was aching dreadful because it was Christmas Eve and dad did not come; and I thought"--and Bet sobbed afresh--"it would be such fun to see him pass me, and then I should call out loud, 'Here's Bet, dad, and I have come to meet you;' but there was no dad at all." "Yes; and then you missed your way?" "It was so dark," returned Bet, plaintively, "and there were trees, and I fell down and hurt myself, and then I got frightened. Are you frightened in the dark, too?" "No; I am only frightened of doing wrong things, Betty dear. I am afraid you have been very naughty, and that poor Aunt Joa will be anxious. Can you walk faster, darling?" But Bet, tired and miserable, felt as though her poor little legs were weighted with lead. But for the umbrella Waveney would have carried her; it hurt her to hear the child sobbing to herself quietly in the darkness. It was a cruel night for any child to be out. Mr. Ingram's "savage mother" was in her fiercest mood, and seemed lashing herself up to fresh fury. There was scarcely a foot-passenger to be seen on the bridge, but a few shivering men and women were in the town making their Christmas purchases. Bet cheered up a little when the bridge had been crossed. "We shall soon be there now," she sighed. "Do you know my home, little lady?" "Yes, dear; and I know your Aunt Joa, too, and your Uncle Theo." "And dad?" "No, darling, not dad. But I daresay I shall know him some day. See how pretty all those lights look! Yes, this is the house," as Betty pulled at her hand. And the next moment they were standing on the doorstep. To Waveney's surprise, Mr. Chaytor opened the door. He regarded them with amazement. Waveney's old umbrella had not fulfilled its mission, and the velvet on her hat was soaking, and so was her hair. But she was nothing to Betty. In the lamplight she looked the most abject little child possible. She was splashed with mud from head to foot, and her plait of fair hair was so wet that Mr. Chaytor hurriedly withdrew his hand. "Why, she is wet through!" he said, in a shocked voice. Then Waveney hurriedly explained matters. "I am afraid Betty has been rather naughty," she said, quickly. "She went out by herself in the hope of meeting her father. And then she lost herself, and got frightened. She was just by Aylmer's Almshouses when she spoke to me." "Aylmer's Almshouses, across the river!" he exclaimed, quite horrified. "Why, I thought she was with my sister! What are we to do, Miss Ward?" looking at her with all a man's helplessness. "Joanna may not be back for an hour, and Jemima has gone to the General Post-Office. And the child is dripping with wet from head to foot." Waveney was quite equal to the emergency.