"And don't you know your way about London at all ?" said she.
"Not a bit, Ma'am," answered Susan. "I never was in it till about two hours ago, when I got off the coach that brought me from the country; and since that," she added, giving way to her tears, "a man that offered to carry my luggage has run away with my boxes, which contained all I had in the world; and here I am, without money, or a lodging for the night, and but one friend in the whole place, and I can't find my way to where she lives."
"It's impossible you should without some one to guide you, and it's not my road," answered the lady. She hesitated a moment, and then drawing nearer to Susan, she looked hard in her face under her bonnet, as if to see whether she were speaking the truth. The result of the investigation appeared to be satisfactory; for she added as if moved by a sudden impulse of compassion—"Come with me! I'll give you shelter for a few hours; and in the morning you can find your friend. There was a night in my life when if some charitable soul had done as much for me, I mightn't be the miserable wretch I am now. Come along!" And with that she turned and walked rapidly up the street, Susan keeping close by her side.
