"Kid!" I echoed, scarcely understanding, for, knowing how little the
poor love their children, I had asked William no questions about the
baby.

"Didn't you know his missis had a kid?"

"Yes; but that is no excuse for William's staying away from his sick
wife," I answered, sharply. A baby in such a home as William's, I
reflected, must be trying; but still--Besides, his class can sleep
through any din.

"The kid ain't in our court," the girl explained. "He's in W., he is,
and I've never been out of W.C.; leastwise, not as I knows on."

"This is W. I suppose you mean that the child is at West Kensington?
Well, no doubt it was better for William's wife to get rid of the
child--"

"Better!" interposed the girl. "'Tain't better for her not to have the
kid. Ain't her not having him what she's always thinking on when she
looks like a dead one?"

"How could you know that?"

"Cause," answered the girl, illustrating her words with a gesture, "I
watches her, and I sees her arms going this way, just like as she wanted
to hug her kid."

"Possibly you are right," I said, frowning; "but William had put the