It was Mrs. Maclahan, who had come upon them unexpectedly. She knew it was not very often that Christina was roused, and she turned to her for an explanation.
"England has been insulting Scotland, and I'll avenge her!" cried Dawn, fun, not anger, sparkling in his eyes. He sprang on Puggy, and in a moment both boys were rolling on the ground together.
Mrs. Maclahan left them, but took Christina upstairs, and soon heard from her all about Susy.
"This child seems to haunt your steps," she said. "I hoped we had seen the last of her. But we are going back to-morrow, so you must forget her!"
"I never can!" sobbed Christina. "I love her; and Miss Bertha told me the rich were made to help the poor. She'll starve in London if no one looks after her."
"My dear Tina, those kind of children always find friends. Don't waste your tears on her. I hope to goodness she won't turn up here!"
But that was exactly what she did. At half-past eight the next morning, Christina was told by a chambermaid that a little girl named Susy wanted to see her, and Mrs. Maclahan, with a shrug of her shoulders, told her she could speak to her in the hall for ten minutes only.
"Tell her we are leaving London to-day. And you must make her understand that we cannot help her in any way."
Christina ran downstairs with all the speed she could muster, and embraced Susy fervently; who was looking as clean and neat as she usually did, but very woe-begone.
"Oh, Miss Tina, my dad's going to die; what shall I do?"