The two women did not take long in reaching No. 30 Hester Street. Most of the lights in the house were out, but in reply to their ring a woman with a dirty dress and red face opened the door. Mrs. Ives nodded to her.
“I’m bringing a friend of mine to see the little gentleman,” she said.
The woman made no response, and Clara and Mrs. Ives went up-stairs together.
“You should not speak of me as a friend of yours, mother,” said Clara in a whisper as they were going up.
“And why not? If my own darter ain’t a friend, I don’t know who is. I were very near saying, I ha’ brought my darter to see the little boy, but out of respect for your ladyship I said friend. Now here we be.”
They paused on the third landing, and Mrs. Ives opened the door and went in. Clara followed her. The room was small and shabby.
“You ought not to have taken the boy to a place of this sort,” said Mrs. Tarbot.
“Why not? You never told me that he come of gentle folk.”
“You might have guessed that for yourself. The child must be well taken care of. He can’t stay here.”
“That’s for you to settle, Clary. In London the child wishes to be, and in London he must be.”