Now and then
they stopped at one of these out-of-the-way stations, and then a very
weary-looking porter would come yawning up, and there would be a
languid attempt at bustle and movement, and then the night mail would
rush on again into the winter's night. Yes, it was mid-winter now,
and bitterly cold. The days, too, were at their very shortest, for it
was just the beginning of December, and by the time they reached
Victoria, not a blink of real light from the sky had yet come.
Maurice felt really cross when he was awakened a second time in what
seemed like the middle of the night, and even long-suffering Toby
acknowledged to himself that it was very unpleasant.
But Cecile's clear eyes looked up with all kinds of thanks into the
face of the big guard as he put them into a cab, and gave the cabby
directions where to drive them to.
"A sweet child, bless her," he said to himself, as he turned away.
The cabby had been desired to drive the children to Mrs. West's home,
and the address Jane had written out was in his hand. The guard, too,
had paid the fare; and Cecile was told that in about half an hour
they would all find themselves in snug quarters.
"Will they give us breakfast in 'snug quarters'?" asked Maurice, who
always took things literally. "I wonder, Cecile, if 'snug quarters'
will be nice?"
Alas! poor little children. When the cab at last drew up at the door
in C---- Street, and the cabby got down and rang the bell, and then
inquired for Mrs.
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