he retort, "or he would not be the way he is."

"Mother!" said Margaret imploringly.

"'Tis hard," replied Catherine, relenting. "But bethink thee; would it
not be harder to look down and see his lovely wee face a-looking up at
you out of a little coffin?"

"Oh, Jesu!"

"And how could you face your other troubles with your heart aye full,
and your lap empty?"

"Oh, mother, I consent to anything. Only save my boy."

"That is a good lass, Trust to me! I do stand by, and see clearer than
thou."

Unfortunately there was another consent to be gained--the babe's; and he
was more refractory than his mother.

"There," said Margaret, trying to affect regret at his misbehaviour; "he
loves me too well."

But Catherine was a match for them both. As she came along she had
observed a healthy young woman, sitting outside her own door, with an
infant, hard by. She went and told her the case; and would she nurse the
pining child for the nonce, till she had matters ready to wean him?

The young woman consented with a smile, and popped her child into the
cradle, and came into Margaret's house. She dropped a curtsey, and
Catherine put the child into her hands. She examined, and pitied it, and
purred over it, and proceeded to nurse it, just as if it had been her
own.

Margaret, who had been paralyzed at her assurance, cast a rueful look at
Catherine, and burst out crying.

The visitor looked up. "What is to do? Wife, ye told me not the mother
was unwilling."

"She is not: she is only a fool. Never heed her; and you, Margaret, I am
ashamed of you."

"You are a cruel, hard-hearted woman," sobbed Margaret.

"Them as take in hand to guide the weak need be hardish. And you will
excuse me; but you are not my flesh and blood; and your boy is."

After giving this blunt speech time to sink, she added, "Come now, she
is robbing her own to save yours, and you can think of nothing better
than bursting out a-blubbering in the woman's face. Out fie, for shame!"

"Nay, wife," said the nurse. "Thank Heaven, I have enough for my own
and for hers to boot. And prithee wyte not on her! Maybe the troubles o'
life ha' soured her own milk."

"And her heart into the bargain," said the remorseless Catherine.

Margaret looked her full in the face; and down went her eyes.

"I know I ought to be very grateful to you," sobbed Margaret to the
nurse: then turned her head and leaned away over the chair, not to
witness the intolerable sight of ano