She was trying hard to be cool and brave; and, gathering all her courage together, she felt her way to the nearest doorstep; three steps she mounted, and then dimly through the fog she saw a bell. This she pulled, and waited in trepidation till some one came. The some one proved to be a manservant, and in opening the door he seemed to let out a flood of light and warmth.
But as Christina looked up at him her heart failed her. He could see her less plainly than she could see him, and his voice was irate as he exclaimed:
"One of you begging brats again! How dare you touch the bell! Is my time to be taken up by answering the door to such as you!"
Christina was dumb; the door was slammed violently in her face, and sitting down on the step she gave way to a few tears.
"What am I to do? The houses are no good, and the people aren't, for I can't see them, and I don't know where the cabs are, or where I am!"
Then she thought she might speak to a lady if one passed by, but none seemed to come in her direction. Two loud-voiced girls passed her certainly, but their tones were not those of ladies, and this Christina knew instinctively.
"I s'pose," she said sorrowfully to herself, "that God is punishing me for having come out without Blanche. My conscience was right after all! And now the very worst has happened to me, and I shall never be found, and I shall be lost for ever!"
She felt cold and miserable; the fog got down her throat and made her cough. She wondered vaguely why she did not feel more frightened, and walked along the pavement with tired lagging steps.
"I wonder if it will ever get light again!" she said to herself, and then the inspiration seized her to take her stand under one of the electric lamps that edged the street at intervals.
"Perhaps I shall be able to see the people's faces better, and if they aren't all burglars, I might ask some one to help me!"