Netty could stand it no longer.
"I must take him to someone; but I haven't a penny in the world. Oh! what shall I do? I know: I'll go to Mrs. Holmes, that kind lady; she'll tell me what to do for Dan. She may punish me, she may do what she likes, for I'll tell her the whole gospel truth, if only she'll save Dan."
Netty staggered to her feet; there was resolution on her little face.
Mrs. Holmes had taken a fancy to the child who loved the baby so well, and on parting the night before she had said to her:
"I have just moved into a new house, Susy Minchin, and as perhaps you do not know of the change, will you tell your Mother this is my new address," and then she repeated it slowly twice to the child: "5, George-street, Bloomsbury. Now, you will remember that, little girl, won't you? and when I want your Mother to come to do a day's charing I will let her know."
Netty had scarcely listened at the time. What did it matter to her? for she was not Susy Minchin: she was Netty Floss.
But now like a ray of sunshine the memory of this address crossed her mind.
George-street, Bloomsbury, was a long way off, but Netty was a brave walker. It took two hours, carrying that heavy baby, to get there, and as she walked the baby's face frightened her more and more, but with the aid of several friendly policemen she did get at last to George-street. She walked up the steps of the tall house and sounded the knocker, and waited with great anxiety until the door was opened. It was opened, not by a servant, who in all probability would have sent Netty away, but by no less a person than Mrs. Holmes herself.
"Why, Susy!" cried the lady, starting back; "who would suppose that I should see you here, and the dear baby too? What is the matter?"