"Then I shall call you Miss Angel," she said, "or rather Angel without the Miss. You can't possibly think I am taking a liberty in calling you Angel. No one could. Indeed you ought to be flattered," she added, as her companion made a sound of remonstrance. "Besides you are an angel. You've been one to me anyhow."
"My dear, don't talk nonsense. I greatly prefer my surname."
"But I don't. It tires me to say Miss Gregson every time I want to call your attention. You are Angel from henceforth, and you mustn't mind, for it is really a great compliment."
Miss Gregson knew it was no use to expostulate, so resigned herself to her fate, fervently hoping that her erratic little friend would forget it. But in this she was disappointed.
[CHAPTER IV]
A DREAM OF LIONS
MEG was getting weary with her long tramp to London. Her first day had been her best. She had not met with such kindness or good fortune again, and as she made her way through towns and villages, only gathering just enough pennies by her singing, to provide her with a night's lodging and food, she began to wonder if she would ever reach London and stroke the paws of lions.
She had to walk for miles along country roads which, as far as earning money was concerned, was mere waste of time. And when she arrived at a town or village, so anxious was she to get to the end of her journey, that she stayed as short a time as possible and only waited to earn enough for the day.
She had now been on the tramp for a fortnight, and her boots were none the better for her hard walking. Every now and then, too, as she crept into some outhouse and lay down to sleep, the Autumn air struck chill, and she wondered, if Bostock refused to employ her, how she could manage to keep herself through the cold winter.
But the girl was naturally courageous, and she would not indulge often in these depressing thoughts. She tried to imagine herself sitting in the cage of lions, whip in hand, quelling the beasts with her eyes, surrounded by a crowd of admirers, among whom was Jem, and then leaving her work on a Saturday night with seven pounds in her pocket; for that was the sum promised to the successful candidate for training. She would then buy Jem a respectable warm coat and a hat with a proper crown, to say nothing of bright blue and red kerchiefs for his neck; and little Steve should be provided with plenty of luxuries and a comfortable lodging away from his Aunt and Uncle.