But now she gazed at Robin with a strange look; at first it was agony; her face began to work, her black eyes to flash. She bit her lips and clutched convulsively at the sheet, then tears started to her eyes, she buried her head under the clothes, and her sobs shook the bed. She was trying to smother her sobs when she felt the bed clothes jerked vigorously. Robin had awakened, tumbled, no one knew how, off his couch, and toddled to her side. He could not speak, but the universal tyrant and pet could imperiously demand attention. Little did the beautiful baby know what this innocent action would lead to. The storm-shaken woman dragged him into her bed, covered him with caresses, and then let him go. No one had observed this little scene, but the deed was done which was to alter all Robin's life. CHAPTER III. _HELEN PUT ROBIN INTO THE DEAD CHILD'S PLACE._ Helen's history was this--a clever, bright girl, wanting in principle, wanting in every religious thought, she grew up without even proper moral training. She was an only child. Her father kept a small tobacconist's shop; he was hard-working and honest; her mother, a very ignorant woman, was also honest. They were fairly well-to-do and they both idolised Helen. She made their lives miserable by her idle, wild, and disobedient ways. She would learn no trade, she would settle to no employment, she was self-willed, bad-tempered, she was even lightly spoken of. All this rendered the old couple unhappy, but her marriage at nineteen broke their hearts. She was not good herself, by no means even morally good, but her husband was one of the worst of men. He treated her cruelly, brutally; at the end of a year he deserted her. By this time her parents had died; she had no money, she had no one to help her, and she had a child. But this, though it appeared so dark, was the brightest and best part of her life. She had never loved her father and mother, she had never loved her husband, but she passionately loved her child. For the first time something good awoke in her heart; with the baby's eyes and the baby's touch came the first desire of her whole life after right. She was glad the child's father was gone; his father was all evil, but the child himself was all purity and sweetness. She was naturally the most idle of women, but for the child's sake she would be industrious. She was by no means honest: she had, since her birth, committed a thousand small thefts, but the child must have honest bread, for nothing evil should touch him. She learned button-holing, a very poor trade, and by it she managed to subsist and to support the child. She slaved from morning to night. She shared a miserable attic with another girl. Into this attic the sun poured in summer, and the rain dropped in winter, but Helen minded no hardships; she had her child, and this was the happiest and best period of her life.