t here?
You might have been sure of a welcome!"

She laid her hand on the head which was bowed down upon the wall, and
which shook with the poor girl's sobs. Her bonnet had fallen off, and
hung on her back; and Lettice noticed that the long hair of which the
girl used to be so proud was gone.

"I did not come to the village till it was dark," Milly said, as soon as
she could speak. "Then I should have knocked, but I saw you looking out
at the window--and I was ashamed!"

"Ashamed?" said Lettice, in a low voice. There was one thing she
thought, of which Milly could be ashamed. She looked from the weeping
mother to the baby's face, and back again to Milly. "My poor girl," she
said, with a sudden rush of tender feeling for the woman who had perhaps
been tempted beyond her strength--so Lettice thought--"my poor child,
you don't think _I_ should be unkind to you!"

"No, no! you were always so kind to me, miss. And I--I--was so
wicked--so ungrateful--so deceitful----"

And with that she broke down utterly. Lettice's arms were round her
neck, and the young mother, feeling herself in the presence of a
comforter at last, let loose her pent-up misery and sobbed aloud.

"Where is--he? your husband?" said Lettice, remembering that she had
heard of Milly's marriage from Mrs. Bundlecombe some time ago, and
conjecturing that something had gone wrong, but not yet guessing the
whole truth.

Milly sobbed on for a minute or two without replying. Then she said,
somewhat indistinctly,

"He's gone away. Left me."

"Left you? But--for a time, you mean? To look for work, perhaps?"

"No, no; he has left me altogether. I shall never see him again--never!"
said the girl, with sudden passion. "Oh, don't ask me any more, Miss
Lettice, I can't bear it!"

"No, no," said Lettice, pitifully, "I will ask you no questions, Milly.
You shall tell me all about it or nothing, just as you like. We must not
keep the baby out in the night air any longer. Come round to the door,
and Mrs. Chigwin will let you in. I will tell her that you want a
night's lodging, and then we will arrange what you are to do to-morrow."

Milly did not move, however, from her position by the wall. She had
ceased to sob, and was twisting her handkerchief nervously between her
fingers.

"Do you think Mrs. Chigwin would let me in," she said at last, in a very
low voice, "if she _knew_?"

Lettice waited; she saw there was more to come.

"Oh, Miss Lettice," said the gir