y believe it; but she could not bear to
stay in that mute, gentle, uncomplaining presence; and she lifted up
Robin to carry him into her own room. Oh that God had but called her
away when she was an innocent baby like that!

Robin's feverishness was almost gone; and now, wrapped in Kitty's gown
and rocked to sleep on her lap, he lay contented and restful, while she
sat thinking in the dark, for the candle soon burned itself out, until
the solemn grey light of the morning dawned slowly in the east. She
had made up her mind now what she would do. There was only one more
sin lying before her. She had grown up bad, and broken her mother's
heart, and now she had brought this great overwhelming sorrow upon poor
little Meg. There was but one end to a sinful life like hers, and the
sooner it came the better. She would wait till Meg came home and give
up Robin to her, for she would not hurry on to that last crime before
Meg was there to take care of him. Then she saw herself stealing along
the streets, down to an old pier she knew of, where boats had ceased to
ply, and where no policeman would be near to hinder her, or any one
about to rescue her; and then she would fling herself, worthless and
wretched as she was, into the rapid river, which had borne so many
worthless wretches like her upon its strong current into the land of
darkness and death, of which she did not dare to think. That was what
she would do, saying nothing to any one; and if she could ask anything
of God, it would be that her mother might never find out what had
become of her.

So Kitty sat with her dark thoughts long after Angel Court had awakened
to its ordinary life, its groans, and curses, and sobs; until the sun
looked in cheerily upon her and Robin, as it did upon Meg in Mrs
Christie's nursery. She did not care to put him down, for he looked
very pretty, and happy, and peaceful in his soft sleep, and whenever
she moved he stirred a little, and pouted his lips as if to reproach
her. Besides, it was the last time she would hold a child in her arms;
and though they ached somewhat, they folded round him fondly. At last
she heard a man's step upon the ladder mounting to the attics, and
Meg's voice speaking faintly. Could it be that her father was come
home at last? Oh! what would their eyes see when they opened that
door? Kitty held her breath to listen for the first sound of anguish
and amazement; but it was poor little Meg's voice which reach