ch a baby before," said Tony, "only she is such a nice
little thing, and such a tiny little 'un. You'll keep her, master, won't
you? or give her up to me?"

"Ay, ay! I'll take care of her," answered Oliver, "till her mother comes
back for her. She'll come pretty soon, I know. But she wants her supper
now, doesn't she?"

He stooped down to bring his face nearer to the child's, and she raised
her hand to it, and stroked his cheek with her warm, soft fingers.

"Beppo wants his supper, too," she said, in a clear, shrill, little
voice, which penetrated easily through old Oliver's deafened hearing.

"And Beppo shall have some supper as well as the little woman," he
answered. "I'll put the shutters up now, and leave the door ajar, and the
gas lit for mother to see when she comes back; and if mother shouldn't
come back to night, the little woman will sleep in my bed, won't she?"

"Dolly's to be a good girl till mammy comes back," said the child,
plaintively, and holding harder by Beppo's ear.

"Let me put the shutters up, master," cried Tony, eagerly; "I won't
charge you nothink, and I'll just look round in the morning to see how
you're getting along. She is such a very little thing."

The shutters were put up briskly, and then Tony took a long, farewell
gaze of the old man and the little child, but he could not offer to touch
either of them. He glanced at his hands, and Oliver did the same; but
they both shook their heads.

"I'll have a wash in the morning afore I come," he said, nodding
resolutely; "good-bye, guv'ner; goodbye, little 'un."

Old Oliver went in, leaving his door ajar, and his gas lit, as he had
said. He fed the hungry child with bread and butter, and used up his
half-pennyworth of milk, which he bought for himself every evening. Then
he lifted her on to his knee, with Beppo in her arms, and sat for a long
while waiting. The little head nodded, and Dolly sat up, unsteadily
striving hard to keep awake; but at last she let Beppo drop to the floor,
while she herself fell upon the old man's breast, and lay there without
moving. It chimed eleven o'clock at last, and Oliver knew it was of no
use to watch any longer.

He managed to undress his little charge with gentle, though trembling
hands, and then he laid her down on his bed, putting his only pillow
against the wall to make a soft nest for the tender and sleepy child. She
roused herself for a minute, and stared about her, gazing steadily, with
large, te