“Met go too! Met go too!” screamed the young tyrant, making his feet fly with such velocity that they looked like a drove of feet. Meanwhile, Meg, with her apron to her eyes, was sobbing violently. A scene was certainly impending. “I think, sir, if I were you I would take the girl along. I think well of her. I believe her account of herself to be true. And I believe it would be a good work to take her from this haunt of sin and misery—alas! I beg your pardon, I had forgotten myself, I have no right to preach,” said the poor penitent, bowing his head. “I will take her at your word, Everage; but, good Heaven, look down at her feet!” “Well, they are not cloven!” said the poor gentleman, with a sad attempt at a pleasantry. “Give her a sovereign sir, and let her run out and fit herself with a bonnet, and shawl, and a pair of shoes and stockings. I’ll warrant she’ll do it all in twenty minutes.” “I’ll do it in less time, sir; indeed I will, if you’ll only let me go with little Lenny!” “Very well; be quick,” said Alexander, handing over a sovereign. “Oh, please, sir, give it to me in smaller change. If the shopkeeper was to see the likes of me with a whole suvring at a time, they would stop it, and send for the police,” said Meg. “That is quite likely,” thought Alick, as he replaced the offered coin in his purse, and then gave her a half sovereign in gold, and a half in silver change. Meg was as quick as her word. She hurried out, and, in fifteen minutes hurried in, equipped for her ride. It was in less time than they supposed she could have effected her purchases. Then she took Lenny in her arms, and prepared to follow the two gentlemen. The whole party went down Blood Alley towards its outlet upon Bushe Lane. Little Lenny laughed and patted Meg’s cheeks, and prattled all the way. “Going to see Doosa, Met! Met going to see Doosa too! Lenny love Met! Lenny not leave Met! Met going to see Doosa!” When they reached Bushe Lane, where the cab was waiting, the astute cabman, looking around upon the party, said to himself: “There—I knew it! They’ve caught one on ’em; and what a young sinner to be the mother of a child that big!” Everage put Meg and Lenny into the cab, and then followed with Alexander. Lenny was still full of joyous babble. “Wide in cawidge, Met! Met wide in cawidge too!” he kept saying, as he patted her cheeks and kissed her. “They should never be separated,” murmured the poor gentleman, timidly, as if speaking to himself. “They shall not be, if I can help it,” replied Alexander who had read with approval the letter of recommendation contained in Meg’s face. They drove rapidly up Bushe Lane, through Black street, and up Blackfriars’ road. But little conversation was carried on until they reached the Strand. When drawing near to Wellington street, where Everage lived, he said. “But you will not take the child to his mother this afternoon?” “Certainly,” replied Alexander. “What—now, immediately?” “Yes.”