“ CARROTS.”

«Yes, I’m sure she will,’ said Floss;
“auntie, and Sybil too, perhaps. Carrots, I

do believe we're there; the train’s stopping.”

And in another minute they found them-

selves in a nice, clean-looking station with sev-
eral people standing about on the platform,
evidently waiting for the train.

The children looked out eagerly. There were
two or three ladies, one little girl, and a few
other people — but no auntie, no Sybil!

“ P’r’aps this isn’t the place,” said Carrots.

“« Please, is this Whitefriars ?” inquired Floss
of a porter who just then threw open the door.
« Whitefriars ? yes, miss. Any luggage?”

“Oh, yes,” said Floss anxiously; “a great
deal. It’s in one of the luggage carriages, and
it’s marked with our name”

The man smiled. “Will you come with me,
missie, and show me which it is, and I’ll get it
all right for you.”

“Oh, thank you!” said Floss, gathering to-
gether their cloaks and baskets, and preparing
to descend.