Mrs. Ricketts, whose back was half turned to Flower while she shut and locked the box out of which she had taken the precious nine-and-fourpence-halfpenny, now sprang to her feet, and began to speak in a tone of great excitement. "Did I hear of her?" she exclaimed. "Did I hear of the woman--for lady she ain't--what turned my Maggie out of her good place, and near broke Miss Polly's heart? Don't mention Mrs. Cameron, please, Miss Flower, for talk of her I won't; set eyes on her I wouldn't, no, not if I was to receive a pound for it!" "You needn't get so excited," said Flower; "you have not got to see Polly's aunt; only I thought perhaps you could give me her address, for I am going to her to-morrow." "I wouldn't, Miss, if I was you." "Yes, you would if you were me. What is Mrs. Cameron's address?" "I don't know as I can rightly tell you, Miss." "Yes, you must. I see you know it quite well." "Well then, well then--you won't like her a bit, Miss Flower." "What's her address?" "Jasper Street; I think it's Jasper Street." "And the number? She doesn't live in the whole of Jasper Street." "Now, was it a one and a six or a one and a seven?" queried Mrs. Ricketts. "Oh, Miss! if I was you, I wouldn't go near her; but I think her number is a one and a seven." "Seventeen, you mean." "Yes, that's it; I was never great at counting." CHAPTER XII. RELICS AND A WELCOME. Mrs. Cameron's house in Bath was decidedly old-fashioned. It was a large, solemn, handsome mansion; its windows shone from constant cleaning; its paint was always fresh, its Venetian blinds in perfect order. When a certain wild, untidy, almost disreputable-looking girl ran up its snow-white steps, and rang its highly polished brass bell, the neat parlor maid who answered her summons stared at her, and doubted a good deal if Mrs. Cameron could see her. "You had better step into the hall for a moment," said the maidservant, "and I'll inquire if my missis is at leisure; but if it's the new housemaid's place you've come after----" Flower gasped; she drew herself up, raised her hand, and took off her small black velvet cap. "You forget yourself!" she said, with a haughtiness which did not ill become her, notwithstanding her untidy and dishevelled state. "My name is Flower Dalrymple, and I have come from Sleepy Hollow. Please let your mistress know directly." The parlor maid, who saw her mistake, was profuse in apologies. She showed Flower into a dismal-looking dining room, and went upstairs. "Who is it, Ann?" asked an anxious voice as she prepared to ascend the richly-carpeted stairs. A door was opened at the end of the passage, and a fusty, dusty-looking little man put in an appearance. "Who is it, Ann? Any one for me?" "A young lady as wants to see the missis, sir. Oh, Mr. Cameron! what a deal of dust you has brought out into the 'all!" The little man looked meekly down at his dusty garments.