entered the lodge.

"You are right, for once," he said. "Here is a child, and a pretty
heavy one, too. It has been deserted by someone; and a heartless
creature she must have been, for in another half hour it would have
been frozen to death, if you had not heard it."

The woman was out of bed now.

"It is a boy," she said, opening the shawl, "about two years old, I
should say.

"Don't cry, my boy--don't cry.

"It's half frozen, Sam. The best thing will be to put it into our
bed, that has just got warm. I will warm it up a little milk. It's
no use taking it into the ward, tonight."

Ten minutes later the child was sound asleep; the porter--who was a
good-natured man--having gone over to sleep in an empty bed in the
house, leaving the child to share his wife's bed.

In the morning the foundling opened its eyes and looked round.
Seeing everything strange, it began to cry.

"Don't cry, dear," the woman said. "I will get you some nice
breakfast, directly."

The kindness of tone at once pacified the child. It looked round.

"Where's mother?" he asked.

"I don't know, dear. We shall find her soon enough, no doubt; don't
you fret."

The child did not seem inclined to fret. On the contrary, he
brightened up visibly.

"Will she beat Billy, when she comes back?"

"No, my dear, she sha'n't beat you. Does she often beat you?"

The child nodded its head several times, emphatically.

"Then she's a bad lot," the woman said, indignantly.

The child ate its breakfast contentedly, and was then carried by
the porter's wife to the master, who had already heard the
circumstance of its entry.

"It's of no use asking such a baby whether it has any name," he
said; "of course, it would not know. It had better go into the
infants' ward. The guardians will settle what its name shall be. We
will set the police at work, and try and find out something about
its mother. It is a fine-looking little chap; and she must be
either a thoroughly bad one, or terribly pressed, to desert it like
this. Most likely it is a tramp and, in that case, it's odds we
shall never hear further about it.

"Any distinguishing mark on its clothes?"

"None at all, sir. It is poorly dressed, and seems to have been
very bad treated. Its skin is dirty, and its little back is black
and blue with bruises; but it has a blood mark on the neck, which
will enable its mother to swear to it, if it's fifty years
hence--but I don't suppose we shall ever hear of