The old woman took her by the wrist, and said, “I’ll show you.”

She was a very ugly old woman indeed, miserably dressed, and carried some skins over her arm.  Florence was afraid of her, and looked, hesitating, up the street.  It was a solitary place, and there was no one in it but herself and the old woman.

“You needn’t be frightened now,” said the old woman, still holding her tight “Come along with me.”

“I—­don’t know you.  What’s your name?” asked Florence.

“Mrs. Brown,” said the old woman, “Good Mrs. Brown.  Susan ain’t far off,” said Good Mrs. Brown, “and the others are close to her, and nobody’s hurt.”

The child shed tears of delight on hearing this, and accompanied the old woman willingly.  They had not gone far, when they stopped before a shabby little house in a dirty little lane.  Opening the door with a key she took out of her pocket, Mrs. Brown pushed the child into a back room, where there was a great heap of rags lying on the floor, a heap of bones, and a heap of sifted dust.  But there was no furniture at all, and the walls and ceiling were quite black.

The child became so terrified, that she was stricken speechless, and looked as though about to swoon.

“Now, don’t be a young mule,” said Good Mrs. Brown, reviving her with a shake.  “I’m not a’ going to keep you, even above an hour.  Don’t vex me.  If you don’t, I tell you, I won’t hurt you.  But if you do, I’ll kill you.  I could have you killed at any time—­even if you was in your own bed at home.  Now let’s know who you are, and what you are, and all about it.”

The old woman’s threats and promises, and Florence’s habit of being quiet, and repressing what she felt, enabled her to tell her little history.  Mrs. Brown listened attentively until she had finished.

“I want that pretty frock, Miss Dombey,” said Good Mrs. Brown, “and that little bonnet, and a petticoat or two, and those shoes, Miss Dombey, and anything else you can spare.  Come! take ’em off.”

Florence obeyed as fast as her trembling hands could allow, keeping all the while, a frightened eye on Mrs. Brown, who examined each article of apparel at leisure, and seemed tolerably well satisfied with their quality and value; she then produced a worn-out girl’s cloak, and the crushed remnants of a girl’s bonnet, as well as other tattered things.  In this dainty raiment she instructed Florence to dress herself, and as this seemed a prelude to her release, the child complied as fast as possible.  Mrs. Brown then resumed her seat on the bones, and smoked a very short, black pipe, after which she gave the child a rabbit-skin to carry, that she might appear like her ordinary companion, and led her forth into the streets; but she cautioned her, with threats of deadly vengeance in case of disobedience, to go directly to her father’s office in the city, also to wait at the street corner where she would be left, until the clock struck three, and these directions Florence promised faithfully to observe.