"But you said we could not get in without you," said Cecile. "Well, what a bother you ere! I'll turn up if I can. You be there at the door, and if I can I'll be there too." Then she nodded violently, and darted out of the shop. Cecile wondered why she was in such a hurry to go, and at the change in her manner, but she understood it a little better when she saw that the ragged girl had so arranged matters that Cecile had to pay for all the dinners! "I won't never trust ragged girls like that again," was her wise mental comment; and then she, Maurice, and Toby recommenced their weary walking up and down. Their dinner had once more rested and refreshed them, and Cecile hoped they might yet find the old court in Bloomsbury. But the great fatigue of the morning came back a little sooner in the short and dull winter's afternoon, and the child discovered now to her great distress that she was lagging first. The shock and trouble she had gone through the day before began to tell on her, and by the time Maurice suddenly burst into tears her own footsteps were reeling. "I think you're unkind, Cecile," said the little boy, "and I don't believe we are ever, ever going to find our old court, or the lodgings for the night." "There's a card up at this house that we're passing," said Cecile. "I'll ask for a lodging at this very house, Maurice." She rang the bell timidly, and in a moment or so a pert girl with a dirty cap on her head came and answered it. "Please," said Cecile, raising her pretty anxious little face, "have you got a lodging for the night for two little children and a dog? I see a card up. We don't mind its being a very small lodging, only it must be cheap." The girl burst out laughing, and rude as the ragged girl's laugh had been, this struck more painfully, with a keener sense of ridicule, on Cecile's ear. "Well, I never," said the servant-maid at last; "_you_ three want a lodging in this yere house? A night's lodging she says, for her and the little un and the dog she says, and she wants it cheap, she says. Go further afield, missy, this house ain't for the likes of you," and then the door was slammed in Cecile's face. "Look, look," said Maurice excitedly, "there's a crowd going in there; a great lot of people, and they're all just as ragged as me and you and Toby. Let's go in and get a bed with the ragged people, Cecile." Cecile raised her eyes, then she exclaimed joyfully: "Why, this is Dean Street, Maurice. Yes, and that's, that's number twenty. We can get our night's lodging without that unkind ragged girl after all." Then the children, holding each other's hands, and Toby keeping close behind, found themselves in the file of people, and making their way into the house, over the door of which was written: "CHEAP LODGINGS FOR THE NIGHT FOR WOMEN AND CHILDREN."