k I can manage about the burial with a
charitable society here. I'll take care and inform you the moment the
advertisement's answered.' I hardly know how it was, sir; but I almost
hoped they wouldn't answer it. Having suckled the baby myself, and
kissed its mother before she died, I couldn't make up my mind to the
chance of its being took away from me just then. I ought to have thought
how poor we were, and how hard it would be for us to bring the child up.
But, somehow, I never did think of that--no more did Peggy--no more did
Jemmy; not even when we put the baby to bed that night along with our
own.

"Well, sir, sure enough, two days after the advertisement come out, it
was answered in the cruelest letter I ever set eyes on. The clergyman he
come to me with it. 'It was left this evening,' says he, 'by a strange
messenger, who went away directly. I told my servant to follow him; but
it was too late--he was out of sight.' The letter was very short, and
we thought it was in a woman's handwriting--a feigned handwriting, the
clergyman said. There was no name signed, and no date at top or bottom.
Inside it there was a ten-pound bank-note; and the person as sent it
wrote that it was enclosed to bury the young woman decently. 'She was
better dead than alive'--the letter went on--'after having disgraced her
father and her relations. As for the child, it was the child of sin,
and had no claim on people who desired to preserve all that was left of
their good name, and to set a moral example to others. The parish must
support it if nobody else would. It would be useless to attempt to trace
them, or to advertise again. The baby's father had disappeared, they
didn't know where; and they could hold no communication now with such a
monster of wickedness, even if he was found. She was dead in her shame
and her sin; and her name should never be mentioned among them she
belonged to henceforth for ever.'

"This was what I remember in the letter, sir. A shocking and unchristian
letter I said; and the clergyman he said so too.

"She was buried in the poor corner of the churchyard. They marked out
the place, in case anybody should ever want to see it, by cutting the
two letters M. G., and the date of when she died, upon a board of wood
at the head of the grave. The clergyman then give me the hair bracelet
and the handkerchief, and said, 'You keep these as careful as you keep
the child; for they may be of great importance one of these days