"You wouldn't disobey Miss Ravenscroft if you were to be our real queen."
"Then I'll not be your queen, darling, for I shall disobey Miss Ravenscroft when it comes to a case of obliging her or dear, darling, precious aunty."
Ruth said no more. In her heart of hearts she was very much distressed. She was sorry for her own sake that she had met Kathleen, and that she was going with her to London; but on the other hand she was glad that she was with the girl, who by herself might have got into a serious scrape.
Finally the two found themselves standing, very forlorn and slightly frightened, on one of the big platforms at Charing Cross.
"Now what are we to do?" said Kathleen.
"We must ask the way, of course," was Ruth's answer. "Here is a porter who looks kind."
She went up to the man.
"Have you any luggage in the van, miss?" was the immediate inquiry.
"No," she answered.
Ruth was quietly although shabbily dressed; but she had on gloves, a neat hat, and a neat necktie. Kathleen had on a very shabby coat, a most unsuitable cap of bright-blue velvet on her clustering masses of curls, and no necktie and no gloves.