It is a little town in Oxfordshire, and if you look long enough on the map you _may_ find it, though I won't promise you.
"There it is," said Milly triumphantly, showing it to her mother and Olly.
"Quite right.

Now look here," and Mrs.Norton took a pencil out of her pocket and drew a little line along the map.

"First of all we shall get into the train and go to a place called--look, Milly." "Bletchley," said Milly, following where the pencil pointed.

"What an ugly name." "It's an ugly place," said Mrs.Norton, "so perhaps it doesn't deserve a better name.

And after Bletchley--look again, Milly." "Rugby," said Milly, reading the names as her mother pointed, "and then Stafford, and then Crewe--what a funny name, mother!--and then Wigan, and then Warrington, and then Lancaster.