"What about Jem?"
Meg sat up drying her tears.
"I was in the cage all among Bostock's beasts," she explained gazing at her companion with sad eyes, "and I looked up and saw Jem. He was trying to tear down the bars of the cage and calling out to me, but I wouldn't listen or look at him again. I didn't want to see him, you see." Meg hid her face again and shook with sobs.
"My dear child you must remember it was only a dream," said Miss Gregson kindly. She put her hand on the bowed head and gave it a kind little pat.
"But," sobbed the girl, "if Jem came now and I heard him call to me I'm not quite sure that I'd go.''
"But I don't suppose Jem is ever likely to come, and if he did I'm not at all sure that it would not be right for you to run away from him."
Meg raised her head and looked at her companion.
"You don't know Jem," she said softly, "nor how good he was to me."
No, Miss Gregson did not know Jem, but she knew enough of the world to believe that no event could probably be worse for the girl before her than to find her old companion and chum. She did not suppose that he was unlike other tramps. But she kept her thoughts to herself.
"Well, dear child, I think you had better put your dream quite out of your head, and get something to occupy your mind at once," and with a kind smile she left the room.