"I cannot stand sight-seeing, darling," she said gently. "Go and enjoy yourself as much as possible. I shall love to think how happy you are."
"Only it seems too bad to take Leveson from you."
"Leveson will sleep here to-night, so I shall see him all the evening. Run and dress, Josie."
"Make haste, or we shall be too late," said Leveson; and Josie flew off in overpowering excitement.
She would have flung on anything that came to hand, in her dread of being too late; but nurse had her own ideas as to propriety, and undertook the task of dressing her eager little charge. It was of no use for Josie to fume and struggle. She had to submit to being brushed and smoothed, arranged and patted, till frock, ribbons, hair, and feathers were all in proper order. Then, and not till then, Josie was released, almost in tears with repressed impatience. However, the final rush down-stairs dissipated all annoyance, and Leveson, who was engaged in a conversation with Mrs. Therlock, apparently sorrowful in its nature, rose at once.
"Come, we have no time to lose."
A hansom cab was Josie's special delight, so one was procured near at hand, and off they went at full speed—Josie's brown hair tossing to and fro in the wind, and her hand clasping Leveson's in grateful ecstasy.
"Oh, it is so delicious—so very delicious!" she said. "How good you are to take me." Then, after a minute or two,—"Do you know, Leveson, it was just there I saw that poor little starving girl—the very day you promised to take me on the river."
"Poor little girl," said Leveson.
"I wonder if she did starve?" remarked Josie. "I made nurse bring me a great many times along here, until I was tired of the walk; but I never saw her again. I am so afraid she must have starved to death."