e must
belong in some way to Mrs. O'Meath, for Mrs. O'Meath looked after her
and kept others away. It was not much "looking after," at best. Mrs.
O'Meath used to bring her her food, such as it was--it was not very
much--and attend to her wants, and bring her things to sew, and make
her sew them. Molly suffered sometimes, for she could not walk; she
had never walked--at least, unless that vague recollection was true.
She had once or twice asked Mrs. O'Meath about her mother, but she had
soon stopped it. It always made Mrs. O'Meath angry, and she generally
got drunk after it and was cross with her.

Sometimes when Mrs. O'Meath got drunk she did not come up-stairs at all
during the day. She was always kinder to her next day, however, and
explained, with much regret, that she had been sick--too sick to get a
mouthful for herself even; but other people who lived in the house told
Molly that she was "just drunk," and Molly soon got to know the signs.
Mrs. O'Meath would be cross and ugly and made her sew hard. Sometimes
she used to threaten her with the Poorhouse. Molly did not know what
that was; she just knew it was something dreadful (like a prison, she
thought). She could not complain, however, for she knew very well that
what Mrs. O'Meath did was out of charity for her and because she had
promised some one to look after her. The little sewing Molly was able
to do for her was not anything, she knew. Mrs. O'Meath often told her
so. And it made her back ache so to sit up.

The rest of the people in the house were so busy they did not have time
to trouble themselves about the child, and Mrs. O'Meath was cross with
them if they came "poking about," as she called it.

Molly's companions were two books, or parts of books--one a torn copy
of the "Pilgrim's Progress," the other a copy of the "Arabian Night's
Entertainment." Neither of them was complete, but what remained she
knew by heart. She used to question the women in the house, when they
would stop at the door, about things outside; but they knew only about
their neighbors and their quarrels and misfortunes--who got drunk; who
had a new sofa or frock; who had been arrested or threatened by the
police, and who had been refused a drink at the bar. Molly's questions
about the fairies and great ladies simply set her down with them as a
half crazy thing. So Molly was left to her own thoughts. Her little
bed was fortunately right by the window, and she could look