“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.

“What could be the matter with the pretty young lady?” thought the man.

Ruth spoke in her gentle tones.

“We want to go to see a lady at the Hotel Metropole,” she said.  “Which is the Hotel Metropole?”

“Oh, miss, it is quite close.  You have only to go out of the station, take the second turning to your left, walk down Northumberland Avenue, and you’ll be there.”

“But where is Northumberland Avenue?  We don’t know anything about London,” interrupted Kathleen.

“If you will allow me to put you two ladies into a cab, the cabman will take you to the Hotel Metropole.  It’s only a step away, but you’d better drive if you don’t know your London.”

“We have never been in our London before,” said Kathleen in a voice of intense pleasure.

They now tripped confidently along by the side of the porter.  He took them into the yard outside the station, and called a four-wheeler.

“No, no; one of those two-wheeled things,” said the little girl.

A hansom was summoned, and the children were put in.  The driver was directed to take them to the Metropole, and they started off.

“Ah!” said Kathleen, looking with great appreciation around her—­“ah! the lights—­aren’t they just lovely?  And see—­see that water.  That must be the Thames.  Oh, Ruth, mayn’t we stand up in the hansom?  We could see ever so much better standing.”

“No; sit down,” implored Ruth.

“Why?  Surely you are not frightened.  There never was any sort of conveyance that would frighten me.  I wish I might drive that horse instead of the stupid old Jehu on the box.  Isn’t London a perfect place?  Oh, this is lovely, isn’t it, Ruth?”

“Thank goodness I’m not always bothered by that dreadful speaking voice inside me that you seem to have got,” said Kathleen.

Here the cab drew up with a jerk at the Metropole.

“How much are we to pay you?” asked Kathleen.

The man was honest, and asked the customary shilling.  A porter was standing on the steps of the hotel.  He flung the doors wide, and the two entered.  Presently a man came up and asked Kathleen what she wanted.  The hour was just before dinner, and the wide hall of the hotel was full.  Both men and women turned and stared at the children.  Both were extremely pretty, Kathleen almost startlingly so.  But what about the gloveless little hands and the untidy neck and throat?

“Please,” said Kathleen, “we have come to see my aunt, Miss O’Flynn.  She is here, isn’t she?”

The man said he would inquire, and went to the bureau.

“Yes,” he said after a minute’s pause.  “Will you come to the drawing-room, young ladies?”