h him; he
had sent home for it since the attempted riot.

As they walked toward Westminster she told him where she had been, and
what money she had earned. It was ten shillings, and that would buy so
many things for baby.

"To-morrow I'll get a cot for her--one of those wicker ones; iron is so
expensive. She'll want a pair o' socks too, and by-and-bye she'll 'ave to
be shortened."

John Storm was thinking of Glory. He seemed to be retreading the steps of
her life in London. The dog kept close at his heels.

"She'll 'a bin a month away now, a month to-morrow. I wonder if she's
grow'd much--I wonder! It's wrong of people letting their childring go
away from them. I'll never go out at nights again--not if I 'ave to tyke
in sewin' for the slop shops. See this?" laughing nervously and showing a
shawl that hung on her arm. "It's to bring 'er 'ome in--the nights is so
chill for a byeby."

John's heart was heavy at sight of these little preparations, but the
young mother's face was radiant.

As they went by the Abbey, under its forest of scaffolding, and, walking
toward Millbank, dipped into the slums, that lie in the shadow of the
dark prison, they passed soldiers from the neighbouring barracks going
arm-in-arm with girls, and this made Aggie talk of her "friend," and cry
a little, saying it was a week since she had seen him, and she was afraid
he must have 'listed. She knew he was rude to people sometimes, and she
asked pardon for him, but he wasn't such a bad boy, after all, and he
never knocked you about except when he was drinking.

The house they were going to was in Angel Court, and having its door only
to the front, it was partly sheltered from observation. A group of women
with their aprons over their heads stood talking in whispers at the
corner. One of them recognised Aggie and asked if she had got her child
yet, whereupon John stopped and made some inquiries. The goings-on at the
house were scandalous. The men who went to it were the lowest of the low,
and there was scarcely one of them who hadn't "done time." The man's name
was Sharkey, and his wife was as bad as he was. She insured the children
at seven pounds apiece, and "Lawd love ye, sir, at that price the poor
things is worth more dead nor alive!"

Aggie's face was becoming white, and she was touching John Storm's elbow
as if pleading with him to come away, but he asked further questions.
Yes, there were several children. A twelve-months' baby, a boy,