TAG; OR, THE CHIEN BOULE DOG
imploringly of maids and landladies if they “knew anything about that outfit” (indicating his passengers), even inducing one or two females to go out and examine his charges at short range. But Josephine had never played on the street, and her sedate walks were pursued on more fashionable thoroughfares, so that she met with no recognition. One woman, indeed, who had turned her kitchen apron to the rear of her person on descending to the street, as if putting household cares behind her for the nonce, gave it as her opinion that Josephine was “Mis’ Blundell, the milliner’s: little girl, who run away once before.” The hansom accordingly moved to the milliner’s shop, its driver much cheered in aspect, but when Mrs. Blundell appeared she looked at the lost pair with that complacent sympathy which is purely external, and positively declined to be a
