One little shabby advertisement drew her at last. The address it gave was a little mean street in Westminster. But the advertiser with great subtlety, and doubtless at the cost of extra pence, had added the magic words, "Near Westminster Abbey."
Those little words redeemed the whole of the wretched sordid rag for Poppy. Her soul lifted up its head once more. Westminster Abbey! The sight of that beautiful place was for all the poor creatures who wanted these homes—it was for her! His son should be born near Westminster Abbey!
The next day she sought the address—No. 10, Old Street—and found it after long wandering. It was, indeed, near Westminster Abbey, but the street was terribly poor. The minute she got into it, she cried out within herself:
"No: it cannot be here: I will not have it here—." But at last she found the number staring at her from a dingy door. At that she turned and looked for Westminster Abbey—but there was no sign of it: only tall, narrow, sad houses, with frowsily-curtained windows; bleak children playing in the gutter and a knife-grinder wailing out his chant:
"Knives to grind.
Scissors to grind.
Pots and tea-
Kittles to mend."
"I shall die if I come here," she said desperately, and turned to fly, but the door opened suddenly and a woman came out and ran an eye over her.
"Good-evening, lady. I see it is me you want," was her laconic greeting. "Step inside."
And Poppy found herself doing as she was bidden, following the woman into a tawdry sitting-room, which a seething gas-jet lighted with a blue and pallid glare. She and the woman faced each other over a plum-coloured table-cloth that had a border of yellow-floss flowers in hideous free-hand design.
"Are you Nurse Selton?" Poppy asked; and Mrs. Selton smilingly acknowledged her name. She was a little dark villain of a woman, with a hard mouth full of assorted teeth, and shrewd, black eyes. Her expression, however, was good-tempered, and the nursing costume she wore gave her an air of respectability, even refinement. She proceeded to inform Poppy that she was well known and esteemed in the neighbourhood; that the house was quiet and private "in the extreme"; and that, as a nurse, she possessed all the necessary diplomas and certificates. (Whether this last was true or not her listener never discovered.)
"You will be most comfortable," she finished. Poppy shuddered.