"Yes, miss," said Martha Jones, "and you has peeled off yer mournin'. You was in black when we seed you at the funeral. And why has yer come up by the night train, and why has yer taken a third-class ticket? And why do you ask us not to betray you? Don't you tell no lies, miss, and you'll be told no stories. You're runnin' away, and there's no sayin' but that it 'ave somethin' to do with Dawson the butcher." "Dawson?" said Annie, her heart beginning to beat very hard. "Dawson's in a rare way about a cheque which 'e cashed for yer, miss. 'E can't get 'is money back. Now Mrs Dawson is own sister to my mother, and we know all about it. There, miss, Tilda and me, we don't want to be 'ard on a young lady like you, and if you 'ud confide in us, you 'ud find us your good friends. There ain't no manner o' use, miss, in your doin' anythin' else, for we can soon send a bit o' a letter to Aunt Jane Dawson, and then the fat's in the fire." "Oh, oh!" said Annie, "I--" She roused herself; she pushed back her hat; she pressed her hot hand to her hot cheek. "Do you think we might open a little bit of the window?" she said. Tilda immediately complied. "There now," she said; "that's better. Didn't I say as you was 'ot?-- and no wonder. You tell Martha and me, and we'll do wot we can for yer." "I don't know what you mean about a cheque," said Annie; "that is all nonsense--I mean--I am not going away on that account." "Oh no, miss," said Tilda, winking at Martha. "Who hever said you was?" "But you are right," continued Annie; "I am going to town for a day or two, just--just--on a little business of my own." "Ain't we smart?" said Tilda, winking again at Martha. Martha bent forward, and once more whispered in her companion's ear. "Look 'ere," said Tilda, "when all's said and done, you're a gel, same as we two are gels, and although you is 'igh up in the social scale, and we, so to speak, low down, we are made with the same feelin's, and souls and bodies, and all the rest o' it; and it ain't for Martha and me to be 'ard on yer, miss; we 'ud much more like to 'elp yer, miss. We won't get to Lunnon until close on twelve--Lor' bless yer! that ain't a nice time for a young lady to come all alone to the metropolis; 'tain't a nice time at all--but my brother Sam 'ull meet Martha and me, and take us straight off to Islington, where we lives; and there 'ull be a bit o' 'ot supper, and our beds all warm and cosy; and wot I say is this: why mightn't you come along with us too, and share our 'ot supper and the escort of my brother Sam, and 'ave a shakedown at Islington for the night? There's no safer way to 'ide, miss--if it's 'idin' yer mean; for none o' those grand folks as you belong to will look for yer out Islington way."