"Your baby will be well looked after 'ere; a nice warm kitchen, and I've no other babies for the moment; them children don't give no trouble, they plays in the area. You had better let me have the child; you won't do better than 'ere." Esther promised to think it over and let her know to-morrow. It took her many omnibuses to get home, and it was quite dark when she pushed the door to. The first thing that caught her ear was her child crying. "What is the matter?" she cried, hurrying down the passage. "Oh, is that you? You have been away a time. The poor child is that hungry he has been crying this hour or more. If I'd 'ad a bottle I'd 'ave given him a little milk." "Hungry, is he? Then he shall have plenty soon. It is nearly the last time I shall nurse the poor darling." Then she told Mrs. Jones about Mrs. Spires, and both women tried to arrive at a decision. "Since you have to put the child out to nurse, you might as well put him there as elsewhere; the woman will look after him as well as she can--she'll do that, if it is for the sake of the six shillings a week." "Yes, yes, I know; but I've always heard that children die that are put out to nurse. If mine died I never should forgive myself." She could not sleep; she lay with her arms about her baby, distracted at the thought of parting from him. What had she done that her baby should be separated from her? What had the poor little darling done? He at least was innocent; why should he be deprived of his mother? At midnight she got up and lighted a candle, looked at him, took him in her arms, squeezed him to her bosom till he cried, and the thought came that it would be sweeter to kill him with her own hands than to be parted from him. The thought of murder went with the night, and she enjoyed the journey to Wandsworth. Her baby laughed and cooed, and was much admired in the omnibus, and the little street where Mrs. Spires lived seemed different. A cart of hay was being unloaded, and this gave the place a pleasant rural air. Mrs. Spires, too, was cleaner, tidier; Esther no longer disliked her; she had a nice little cot ready for the baby, and he seemed so comfortable in it that Esther did not feel the pangs at parting which she had expected to feel. She would see him in a few weeks, and in those weeks she would be richer. It seemed quite wonderful to earn so much money in so short a time. She had had a great deal of bad luck, but her luck seemed to have turned at last. So engrossed was she in the consideration of her good fortune that she nearly forgot to get out of her 'bus at Charing Cross, and had it not been for the attention of the conductor might have gone on, she did not know where--perhaps to Clerkenwell, or may be to Islington. When the second 'bus turned into Oxford Street she got out, not wishing to spend more money than was necessary. Mrs. Jones approved of all she had done, helped her to pack up her box, and sent her away with many kind wishes to Curzon Street in a cab.