at least till
father's at home. I promised mother not to let anybody at all come
here. You'll not be angry, will you?'

'No, I'm not angry,' said Kitty gently, 'and you must always do what
your mother told you, little Meg. She spoke kind to me once, she did.
So I'll go away now, dear, and never come in again: but you wouldn't
mind me listening at the door when Robbie's saying his prayers
sometimes?'

'No,' answered Meg; 'and you may listen when I read up loud, if you
like. I always read something afore I go to bed, and I'll speak up
loud enough for you to hear.'

'I'll listen,' said Kitty, standing up to go to her own dark, cold
attic, and looking round sadly at Meg's tidy room, all ready as it was
for her father's arrival. 'I suppose you'd not mind me kissing the
children afore I go?'

'Oh no,' said Meg, going with her to the bedside, and looking down
fondly upon the children's sleeping faces. The baby's pale small face
wore a smile upon it, as did Robin's also, for he was dreaming of the
gardens he had visited on his birthday. The girl bent over them, but
she drew back without kissing them, and with a sharp painful tone in
her voice she said, 'I wish I was dead, I do.'

CHAPTER VII

Little Meg's Disappointment

If Meg had been up early on Robin's birthday, she was out of bed and
about her preparations still earlier the next morning. She had time to
go over again most of her brushing and rubbing of the scanty furniture
before the children awoke. She reached out all their best clothes, and
her own as well, for she did not intend to go down to the docks to meet
her father, but thought it would be best to wait at home for his
arrival. Her hands were full, and her thoughts also, for some time;
and it was not till the nearest clock struck eleven that she could
consider all her preparations completed.

When all her work was done, Meg helped Robin up to the window-sill, and
climbed after him herself to the perilous seat, with the baby held fast
upon her lap. It was the first time the baby had been allowed to
occupy this dangerous place, and for the first few minutes Meg was not
without her fears; but it was weary and languid this morning, and sat
quite still upon her lap, with its little head resting upon her
shoulder, and its grave eyes looking out inquiringly upon the strange
world in which it found itself. Meg and Robin watched every man who
entered the court; and every now and then Robin would