The child was, fortunately, too young to understand
more than that the lady was very cross.
What had she done that the lady was so angry
with her? Lily was too frightened to weep;
but she trembled more than ever.

"Ah! the night air. You will gain a chill,"
cried the strange lady, with capricious tenderness.
"There, don't be frightened. Be still,
and nobody shall hurt you." And she dragged
the shawl off her own shoulders, and, hastily
kissing the child, wrapped her in it. Her kiss
seemed to burn Lily's cheek.

They went down the winding path again, and
out of the Park, and into the town. And there
—though the railway was open—the lady
engaged a flyman to take them into London. The
man named ten shillings as his fare, and the
lady was too haughty to bargain with him, but
she took it out in tormenting the unhappy wretch
all the way to the Elephant and Castle, and all
the way from the Elephant to Golden-square,
Regent street. She abused him for driving too
slowly, and then for driving too fast; she
declared that the horse was lame, and that one of
the wheels was coming off. She accused him of
being intoxicated (he was as sober a fellow as
need be); she vowed that, she would prosecute
him for not having lamps; and she called all the
turnpike-men robbers and extortioners.

"I suppose you want to cheat me out of some
money to drink now," she observed, when this
long-suffering Jehu had landed her at her destination.

"I don't want nothing to drink," cried the
man, desperately. " I don't want nothing from
yer. I only wants to be quit of yer."

"Don't be insolent,!" the lady replied.

"Hinsolent!" exclaimed the flyman, throwing
up his arms. " 'Ear 'er. Am I a man or am I
a convic? Am I a man or am I a slave?"

"You're an impertinent drunken fellow. Go
home to bed."

"Ask the p'lice. Ask my master, which I
have jobbed for in the same yard going on for
nineteen year," continued the man.

"Now, what's the matter here?" the gruff
voice of a passing policeman interposed.

"Nothin's the matter," returned the flyman,
gathering up his reins, and settling himself on
his box. "I've got my fare, and I'm satisfied.
driven to Old Scratch, I 'ope she'll 'ail another
fly." With which he drove off.

The lady certainly did not possess, or else she
did not care to cultivate, the art of conciliating
the lower orders. The number of enemies she
had made that day might have been calculated
by the number of inferiors with whom she had
come in contact.

They slept that night in a house in Golden-square,
where this benignant person had taken
lodgings. And the first thing Lily heard in the
morning—for to her great joy she was not put
to sleep with the strange lady, but was bestowed
in a small adjoining bedroom—was an alarming
commotion with the servant-of-all-work respecting
breakfast: in the midst of which a stout
landlady arrived, breathless, to give the lodger
warning.

"Flesh and blood can't stand it no longer,"
said the indignant dame. "I'd rather have the
parlours empty for six months than be scarified
in this obstreperous manner. A true-born
Englishwoman ain't to be treated like a black
lnjin."

"And like the dirt under your feet," added
the servant-of-all-work, who was in tears.

"And you'd better suit yourself elsewhere,
mum," the landlady continued.

"Canaille!" the countess replied. " I would
not remain another twenty-four hours in your
wretched hovel for twenty pounds. Give me
your swindling bill, and I will pay it. I leave
this evening."

The day was a strange one, and the lady
scarcely exchanged half a dozen words with
Lily. She was in too great a rage after the
commotion, to breakfast in Golden-square, so
took the child to a French coffee-house under
the colonnade of the Italian Opera. Then
they had a hackney-coach, and went a long long
way through low and darkling Temple Bar into
the City, until they reached a large shop in a
crowded street. They entered this warehouse,
and the lady said to the assistant, " This little
girl is going to school, supply her with all she
wants, and put it in a trunk."

The assistant, who was a joyous middle-aged
man in spectacles, and whose stiff shirt collars
made indentations in his plump cheeks, submitted
that it would take a good hour and a half to
furnish the young lady's outfit; and asked where
he might have the honour of sending the
esteemed order?

"I will take it away with me," she answered.
"We will return in a couple of hours. Stay;
can you take charge of the child for that time?"
The assistant replied that they would only be
too happy to take care of the young lady for
that period.

"Then stay here," said the lady to Lily, "and
don't get into mischief. At four o'clock (it was
now close upon two) I shall be here."  And she
went away.

"Is that your mamma, my dear?" the stout
assistant with the spectacles asked, when the
lady had taken her departure.

"Y—y—es," answered Lilly, hesitating somewhat.

"Ah! Dear me. A handsome lady, quite the
lady, in fact," he continued. " A proud one,
too," he said to himself. " Looks as if she had
a devil of a temper. A Tartar, I'll be sworn.
Now, Miss Eldred, my good young lady, will
you be good enough to come here, and we'll get
this little matter in hand."

Miss Eldred was a tall lady, but the prefix
"young" could be applied to her only in courtesy.
She was bony, but benignant. She was clad in
brown merino, which fitted her so straight, that
her dress looked like the section of a pair of
trousers. She smiled affably on Lily, and asked
her whether she had ever been at school before?
Upon which Lily told her all she knew about the