It had been no part of his father's plan that Mr.Biggleswade should travel by the same train to London, and his heart sank a little.

But remembering Blazer, his spirits rose, and he turned to the little girl with a cheerful face.
She was panting, crying, and wringing her hands in a paroxysm of nervous excitement.

He sat down beside her, thumped her on the back--a way he had with tearful females--wiped away her tears with his handkerchief, and poured comforting assurances of safety into her ears.
[Illustration: He poured comforting assurances of safety into her ears.] When at last he had soothed her he began to question her, and drew from her the story of her captivity.

She had driven miles and miles with the gentleman who had fetched her from Kensington Gardens, to a little house in a long street.

There she had found the Biggleswades.