Having thoroughly frightened both Blanche and Christina, Puggy began to enjoy himself. But the pleasures of that drive were over to poor Christina. Every jolt of the cab meant a wheel off to her, every block in the streets meant collision, every application of the cabman's whip, and a corresponding start of the horse, meant a tumble and certain death. Then she remembered her text and repeated it over to herself.
"God can take care of me," she thought, and her fears began to slip away.
Still, when they arrived in Kensington, and were put down at Dawn's home, Christina drew a long sigh of relief.
"I expect he'll be as cocky as a sparrow," said Puggy, as they mounted the steps and rang the bell; "but I shan't let him cheek me!"
The servant who answered the door showed them into a very small drawing-room.
"Yes, Master Dawn is at home; he is in the studio with his father. I will let him know."
"You mustn't stay here long," said Blanche; "for the cabman is waiting, and if Master Dawn can come back with us, he must do it at once."
The door flew open as she spoke, and Dawn appeared, looking more radiant than ever. He embraced Christina, thumped Puggy on the back and danced up and down with ecstasy.
"How scrumptious! I never knew you were in London. Oh what ripping fun we'll have! I have ten days' more holidays, and if those aren't enough to do everything in, I'll take French leave, and add on a few more days."
"You're to come back to lunch with us," said Puggy grandly.