"We must think what to do. It is a little awkward, isn't it,—just at the moment when we are turned out of house and home? Awkward, I mean, because we had hoped to make you so comfortable, and now—But nobody is hurt, and that is such a comfort. The chimneys fell on the back top room and smashed through floor after floor, carrying everything with them. Anybody on that side of the house must have been killed. But my father was in the dining room, and mother and Nan and I were in the drawing room, and both servants were in front. Nan would have gone to the back in another minute. Think—if she had been underneath! All the rest is nothing in comparison." "No, indeed!" murmured Lettice. "This is the house where we are lodging. Come and find my mother. It will do her good to see you. She is wonderfully composed—wonderfully little upset by it all." Lettice thought Prue no less marvellous. She was ushered into a shabby little lodging-house parlour, there to be affectionately received by Mrs. Valentine. "This is a most unpleasant welcome for you, my dear," the old lady said kindly, with her placid look. She and Prue were actually less pale and shaken, though they had been on the spot at the moment of the catastrophe, than was Lettice, coming in afterwards to hear of it. "I am only so sorry! If I had not fixed on to-day!" "No one can tell this sort of thing beforehand. It is all quite right," Mrs. Valentine said calmly. She looked at Prue, and added, "The cabman?" "Yes; I told him to wait for a minute." The words startled Lettice. "The cabman—I forgot," she said hurriedly. "But what ought I to do? I might—could I not go back to-night? If there is a train early enough—" "No, dear. That is quite out of the question," Prue said at once. "It would be wrong, for the sake of Felix. And we could not let you go after dark, alone. You are not used to manage for yourself. You poor child! How tired you are! Take off your hat." "But the cabman—" "Only an idea, that we might use him for something! On second thoughts, I will make him bring in the boxes, and send him off,—" with an expressive glance at Mrs. Valentine. "Take off your hat, and lean back." Lettice was glad to obey, merely delaying to hold out her purse. "But I don't know what I ought to do. If I knew—" she said, when Prue returned. "Tea first," Prue answered cheerfully. She sat down by Lettice's side, and kissed her brow. "You dear child! How exactly the same you are! It is nice to see you again." "But I can't stay. If I don't go back to-night, I must go to-morrow." What Theodosia would say Lettice dared not think. "I must," she repeated. "I could not stay to be a burden to you all; and you can't have much room in these lodgings." "No, not much. That is the difficulty." "I don't see how you can, even one night." "I wish I could get some tea—that poor little head of yours is so bad. All the world is distracted just now, and the water won't boil."