was opening her
window-shutters. Susan took her by the arm, and, without speaking, went
into the house-place. There she knelt down before the astonished Mrs.
Leigh, and cried as she had never done before; but the miserable night
had overpowered her, and she who had gone through so much calmly, now
that the pressure seemed removed could not find the power to speak.

"My poor dear! What has made thy heart so sore as to come and cry a-this-
ons? Speak and tell me. Nay, cry on, poor wench, if thou canst not
speak yet. It will ease the heart, and then thou canst tell me."

"Nanny is dead!" said Susan. "I left her to go to father, and she fell
downstairs, and never breathed again. Oh, that's my sorrow! But I've
more to tell. Her mother is come--is in our house! Come and see if it's
your Lizzie."

Mrs. Leigh could not speak, but, trembling, put on her things and went
with Susan in dizzy haste back to Crown Street.

CHAPTER IV.

As they entered the house in Crown Street, they perceived that the door
would not open freely on its hinges, and Susan instinctively looked
behind to see the cause of the obstruction. She immediately recognised
the appearance of a little parcel, wrapped in a scrap of newspaper, and
evidently containing money. She stooped and picked it up. "Look!" said
she, sorrowfully, "the mother was bringing this for her child last
night."

But Mrs. Leigh did not answer. So near to the ascertaining if it were
her lost child or no, she could not be arrested, but pressed onwards with
trembling steps and a beating, fluttering heart. She entered the
bedroom, dark and still. She took no heed of the little corpse over
which Susan paused, but she went straight to the bed, and, withdrawing
the curtain, saw Lizzie; but not the former Lizzie, bright, gay, buoyant,
and undimmed. This Lizzie was old before her time; her beauty was gone;
deep lines of care, and, alas! of want (or thus the mother imagined) were
printed on the cheek, so round, and fair, and smooth, when last she
gladdened her mother's eyes. Even in her sleep she bore the look of woe
and despair which was the prevalent expression of her face by day; even
in her sleep she had forgotten how to smile. But all these marks of the
sin and sorrow she had passed through only made her mother love her the
more. She stood looking at her with greedy eyes, which seemed as though
no gazing could satisfy their longing; and at last she stooped dow