e came home late
every night, very drunk, and shouting loud snatches of songs, which
wakened up the inmates of the lower stories, and drew upon her a storm
of oaths. But she continued always good-natured and kind to Meg, and
insisted upon having the daily charge of Robin and the baby, though Meg
left them in her care with a very troubled and anxious spirit. Things
were looking very dark to the poor little woman; but she kept up as
brave a heart as she could, waiting from day to day for that
long-deferred coming of her father, in which she believed so firmly.

It was a little later than usual one evening, for the days were
creeping out since the new year, when Meg climbed wearily upstairs to
Kitty's attic, in search of her children, but found that they were not
there. Mr Grigg told her that he had seen Kitty take them out with her
in the afternoon; and even while he was speaking, Meg saw her
staggering and rolling into the court, with the baby fast asleep in her
drunken arms. Meg took it from her without a word, and led Robin away
upstairs. Robin's face was flushed, and his hand was very hot; but the
baby lay in her arms heavily, without any movement or sign of life,
except that the breath came through her parted lips, and her eyelids
stirred a little. Meg locked the door of her attic, and laid her baby
on the bed, while she lighted the fire and got their tea ready. Robin
looked strange, but he chattered away without ceasing, while he watched
her set the things in readiness. But the baby would not awake. It lay
quite still on Meg's lap, and she poured a little warm tea into its
mouth, but it did not swallow it, only slept there with heavy eyelids,
and moving neither finger nor foot, in a strange, profound slumber. It
was smaller and thinner than when mother died, thought Meg; and she
lifted up the lifeless little hand to her lips, half hoping that its
eyes would unclose a little more, and that sweet, loving smile, with
which it always welcomed her return, would brighten its languid face.
But baby was too soundly asleep to smile.

Little Meg sat up all night, with the baby lying on her lap, moaning a
little now and then as its slumbers grew more broken, but never lifting
up its eyelids to look into her face and know it. When the morning
dawned it was still the same. Could the baby be ill? asked Meg of
herself. It did not seem to be in any pain; yet she carried it to the
door, and called softly for Kitty to c