“Poor little lamb!” cried Meg, in another access of pity, clasping the baby to her bosom with one hand, holding its winsome slippered feet in the other. She remained thus, stung through with acute pity, crouching, folding herself over the mite. At last she raised her head, and said, in a voice difficult with emotion: “But you love her—don’t you?” “Yes—she’s—she’s all right. But we ’ave to mind ’er,” replied the boy in great confusion. “Surely,” said Meg, “Surely you don’t begrudge that. Poor little thing—so little, she is—surely you don’t grumble at minding her a bit——?” The boys would not answer. “Oh, poor little lamb, poor little lamb!” murmured Meg over the child, condemning with bitterness the boys and the whole world of men. I taught one of the lads how to fold and unfold the wretched chair. Meg very reluctantly seated the unfortunate baby therein, gently fastening her with the strap. “Wheer’s ’er dummy?” asked one of the boys in muffled, self-conscious tones. The infant began to cry thinly. Meg crouched over it. The ‘dummy’ was found in the gutter and wiped on the boy’s coat, then plugged into the baby’s mouth. Meg released the tiny clasping hand from over her finger, and mounted the dog cart, saying sternly to the boys: “Mind you look after her well, poor little baby with no mother. God’s watching to see what you do to her—so you be careful, mind.” They stood very shamefaced. George clicked to the mare, and as we started threw coppers to the boys. While we drove away I watched the little group diminish down the road. “It’s such a shame,” she said, and the tears were in her voice, “—A sweet little thing like that——” “Ay,” said George softly, “there’s all sorts of things in towns.” Meg paid no attention to him, but sat woman-like thinking of the forlorn baby, and condemning the hard world. He, full of tenderness and protectiveness towards her, having watched her with softening eyes, felt a little bit rebuffed that she ignored him, and sat alone in her fierce womanhood. So he busied himself with the reins, and the two sat each alone until Meg was roused by the bustle of the town. The mare sidled past the electric cars nervously, and jumped when a traction engine came upon us. Meg, rather frightened, clung to George again. She was very glad when we had passed the cemetery with its white population of tombstones, and drew up in a quiet street. But when we had dismounted, and given the horse’s head to a loafer, she became confused and bashful and timid to the last degree. He took her on his arm; he took the whole charge of her, and laughing, bore her away towards the steps of the office. She left herself entirely in his hands; she was all confusion, so he took the charge of her. When, after a short time, they came out, she began to chatter with blushful animation. He was very quiet, and seemed to be taking his breath.