"Not with that child yer won't--it ain't possible.... You girls is all alike, yer thinks of nothing but yer babies for the first few weeks, then yer tires of them, the drag on yer is that 'eavy--I knows yer--and then yer begins to wish they 'ad never been born, or yer wishes they had died afore they knew they was alive. I don't say I'm not often sorry for them, poor little dears, but they takes less notice than you'd think for, and they is better out of the way; they really is, it saves a lot of trouble hereafter. I often do think that to neglect them, to let them go off quiet, that I be their best friend; not wilful neglect, yer know, but what is a woman to do with ten or a dozen, and I often 'as as many? I am sure they'd thank me for it." Esther did not answer, but judging by her face that she had lost all hope, Mrs. Spires was tempted to continue. "There's that other baby in the far corner, that was brought 'ere since you was 'ere by a servant-girl like yerself. She's out a'nursing of a lady's child, getting a pound a week, just as you was; well, now I asks 'ow she can 'ope to bring up that 'ere child--a weakly little thing that wants the doctor and all sorts of looking after. If that child was to live it would be the ruin of that girl's life. Don't yer 'ear what I'm saying?" "Yes, I hear," said Esther, speaking like one in a dream; "don't she care for her baby, then?" "She used to care for them, but if they had all lived I should like to know where she'd be. There 'as been five of them--that's the fifth--so, instead of them a-costing 'er money, they brings 'er money. She 'as never failed yet to suit 'erself in a situation as wet-nurse." "And they all died?" "Yes, they all died; and this little one don't look as if it was long for the world, do it?" said Mrs. Spires, who had taken the infant from the cradle to show Esther. Esther looked at the poor wizened features, twitched with pain, and the far-off cry of doom, a tiny tinkle from the verge, shivered in the ear with a strange pathos. "It goes to my 'eart," said Mrs. Spires, "it do indeed, but, Lord, it is the best that could 'appen to 'em; who's to care for 'em? and there is 'undreds and 'undreds of them--ay, thousands and thousands every year--and they all dies like the early shoots. It is 'ard, very 'ard, poor little dears, but they is best out of the way--they is only an expense and a disgrace." Mrs. Spires talked on in a rapid, soothing, soporific voice. She had just finished pouring some milk in the baby's bottle and had taken down a jug of water from the dresser. "But that's cold water," said Esther, waking from the stupor of her despair; "it will give the baby gripes for certain." "I've no 'ot water ready; I'll let the bottle stand afore the fire, that'll do as well." Watching Esther all the while, Mrs. Spires held the bottle a few moments before the fire, and then gave it to the child to suck. Very soon after a cry of pain came from the cradle.