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“I suppose I must do it, Mother,” answered Netty; “and you’re very kind,” she hastened to add.

Mrs. Floss was far too busy to spend any more time talking to Netty. She regarded the affair as absolutely settled, and went downstairs to tell Mrs. Court that she was not to have the pleasure of looking after the baby the following day.

The next morning broke gloriously fine. Even as early as six o’clock it was intensely hot in the attic where Netty slept. She had laid out all her best things the night before–her blue cotton frock, carefully washed and mangled, her cape to match, her sailor hat, somewhat ragged round the brim, but not very dirty; even her cotton gloves. These last she regarded as great treasures, and imagined that they would give a distinctly genteel air to her appearance.

As there was no possible way out of it, she must take the baby, too, and she must just trust to luck to pulling the thing through. She knew enough about tramways and omnibuses and railway carriages to be aware that a baby in arms costs nothing, and she did not mind little Dan’s weight–she was accustomed to it; and she would like very much, as far as she herself was concerned, to take him to the seaside.

Accordingly, the baby was also got early out of his wooden cot, and dressed in his very best clothes. The baby’s best frock was made of Turkey-red cotton, very faded, and he had a small worn-out fifth-hand sun-bonnet tied under his chin, and his little legs were bare, but that did not matter–it was, indeed, rather an advantage this hot weather.

Ben frowned very much when he saw the baby.

“Now, what do you mean by this?” he cried; “how can you be Susy Minchin dragging that big baby about with you? You give it to Mrs. Court.”

“No, no,” pleaded poor Netty; “Mother said I wasn’t to leave baby with Mrs. Court; we must bring Dan with us. There, Ben, you won’t say no.”

Ben looked decidedly cross, but Netty had a very coaxing way with her.

“Come along then,” he said roughly; but there was a tenderness in that rough tone, and Netty knew that her cause was won. It never occurred to Ben to offer to carry the baby for Netty, but he made up his mind that he must smuggle it through somehow.

The pair reached the great station in good time, and were joined by a lot of other children, and several teachers and Sunday-school superintendents of all sorts, and also several clergymen.

Ben and Netty soon mingled with the crowd and were marched in orderly array past a gentleman who looked at each ticket and took down each name as they went by. When it came to Ben’s turn he called out manfully: “Tom Minchin,” nudging Netty at the same time.

“Susy Minchin,” she said. But here the little party were called to halt.

“Susy Minchin, what are you doing with that baby?” said Mr. Stokes, the curate.

Poor little Netty, alias Susy, found herself turning red and then pale.

“Please, sir,” she said, dropping a curtsey that she was accustomed to make to her Board-school teacher, “please, I couldn’t come without Dan.”

“But I didn’t know that Mrs. Minchin had a young baby,” said the curate, who was very young and fair-haired himself, and looked much puzzled what to do.

“It would kill me to go back now, sir,” said Netty, and there was such a passion of entreaty in her soft eyes and such a tremble round her pale lips that the young curate looked at a pretty girl who was standing near, and the pretty girl said:

“Oh! poor little dear, she shan’t be disappointed. I would rather take the baby myself.”

“But it’s against the rules,” said the curate, “and others may take advantage of it.”

“You shan’t be prevented from going, little Susy Minchin,” said the girl, now coming forward. “Give me the baby until you are all well started; then you shall have it back again.”