"I feel—oh, someone’s playin’ tunes in my head, Nell! I—won’t I ever be sleepy again? My legs hurt, Nell. Is it all those steps?" "What steps, dear?" "The monnyment. Are you _very_ s’prised? I went up the monnyment—to—Nell, do you think I’ve got a cold comin’? My nose feels funny." "I’m afraid you have. Go on, pet." "The boy told me—I asked him—he had blue eyes and red cheeks and—and I thought he might be nice like an Irish boy, and—and—I—I felt," with sudden passion, "I would just _die_ if I didn’t see it—just one tiny bit! And he said I could—from the top of the monnyment—he said, ’Oh, yes, you can see Ireland right enough from there, you can see all the world,’ but—I—couldn’t—" Nell’s arms tightened about her. "He was a wicked boy! He told a lie. I mustn’t say ’lie,’ but I will. I could only see—dirty—smoke—and houses—" "How did you find your way there?" "I don’t know. It was very differcult, and I kept goin’ wrong, but I asked people. And one woman gave me an apple off her barrow. It was very kind of her. But there was only smoke and houses—" A sudden convulsive sob shook her from head to foot. "I—I _ran_ up a lot of the steps—" her fingers dug into Nell’s arm—"and it was three pennies—and the man told me there are three hundred and forty-five steps—it was a long way—and," a little terrified shudder shook her, "there’s a nasty cage—he said it’s because people used to throw theirselves over to—because they wanted to kill theirselves, Nell! I—I didn’t know people ever wanted to kill theirselves, did you?" The shrinking terror in her eyes hurt Nell horribly. "Don’t, Atom—don’t! Dear, it’s only poor people who—who are mad—who don’t know what they are doing. If they knew, they wouldn’t do it." The terror lightened a little. She lay quiet a little while in Nell’s arms. Nell hoped she was falling asleep, but presently the whole small form was shaken by another desperate sob. "It was only smoke—-and houses—" came a desolate little murmur of utter weariness. "Try to go to sleep, darling—do try." "I’m not cryin’, Nell! Only—I—you see shiverin’ and a cold is rather like cryin’, isn’t it?" "Very much, but you’ll be better to-morrow. You must get better quickly, because suppose our first letters from Australia were to come with you sick! And they may come any day now, sweet. And there mustn’t be anyone sick here! Because how can we celebrate the occasion properly then? If the letters say that mother is quite, _quite_ strong again—and they will, darling, I know they will!—well, what shall we do then?" She talked on softly, gently, and after a while the Atom slept. Nell sat for some time with her on her lap, frightened to move lest she wake her, but at last she laid her gently in her bed, and the Atom still slept on.