“Now, here we are at Jersey City! Gather your traps, my dear, and be ready to get off. Don’t be afraid. The dragon’s mouth is always wide open, but you shall not fall into it!” said Mrs. Ponsonby, as the train ran into the depot.
“And there’s Saxony’s carriage, but I don’t see him,” she said, when they had crossed the ferry and passed out on Desbrosses Street.
“Where’s your master, Patrick?” she demanded, when she had dragged Lilith through the crowd to the door of the carriage.
“If you plaze, ma’am, Misther Saxony is dining out this evening, and Misthress Saxony requisted me to mate you in the carriage meself, ma’am,” said the Irish coachman, who resented the term “master” as applied to his employer.
“Very well. I am glad of it. Get in, my dear. And, Patrick, do you drive first to Number 10 —— Street, near —— Avenue. It will not be much out of your way,” said Mrs. Ponsonby, as she put Lilith into the carriage and followed her.
The short winter twilight was fading into night, and the streets were beginning to be lighted with gas.
“Suppose,” said Lilith, “suppose that your friend should not have a vacant room for me?”
“Then you must put up with a bed for this one night.”
“But if she has not an unoccupied bed?”
“Then she must find one for this night, anyway,” persisted Mrs. Ponsonby.