y in other respects, who, though no older,
could already crawl about the dirty pavement and down into the gutter,
and who could even toddle unsteadily, upon their little bare feet, over
the stone flags. Meg felt it as a sort of reproach upon her, as a
nurse, to have her baby so backward. But the utmost she could prevail
upon it to do was to hold hard and fast by a chair, or by Robin's fist,
and gaze across the great gulf which separated her from Meg and the
piece of bread and treacle stretched out temptingly towards her. It
was a wan, sickly baby with an old face, closely resembling Meg's own,
and meagre limbs, which looked as though they would never gain strength
enough to bear the weight of the puny body; but from time to time a
smile kindled suddenly upon the thin face, and shone out of the serious
eyes--a smile so sweet, and unexpected, and fleeting, that Meg could
only rush at her, and catch her in her arms, thinking there was not
such another baby in the world. This was the general conclusion to
Meg's efforts to teach her to walk, but none the less she put her
through the same course of training a dozen times a day.

Sometimes, when her two children were asleep, little Meg climbed up to
the window-sill and sat there alone, watching the stars come out in
that sky where her mother was gone to live. There were nights when the
fog was too thick for her to see either them or the many glittering
specks made by the lamps in the maze of streets around her; and then
she seemed to herself to be dwelling quite alone with Robin and baby,
in some place cut off both from the sky above and the earth beneath.
But by-and-by, as she taught Robin out of the Testament, and read in it
herself two or three times a day, new thoughts of God and His life came
to her mind, upon which she pondered, after her childish fashion, as
she sat in the dark, looking out over the great vast city with its
myriads of fellow-beings all about her, none of whom had any knowledge
of her loneliness, or any sympathy with her difficulties.

After a week was past, Meg and her children made a daily expedition
down to the docks, lingering about in any out-of-the-way corner till
they could catch sight of some good-natured face, which threatened no
unkind rebuff, and then Meg asked when her father's ship would come in.
Very often she could get no satisfactory answer, but whenever she came
across any one who knew the Ocean King, she heard that it would most
l