nce from the breast of Mrs. and Mr. Hobbs, when they saw
the girl stop where a turn of the road brought the gate before her eyes;
and for the first time, they perceived, what the worn cloak had hitherto
concealed, that the poor young thing bore an infant in her arms. She
halted, she gazed fondly back. Even at that instant the despair of her
eyes was visible; and then, as she pressed her lips to the infant's
brow, they heard a convulsive sob--they saw her turn away, and she was
gone!

"Well, I declare!" said Mrs. Hobbs.

"News for the parish," said Mr. Hobbs; "and she so young too!--what a
shame!"

"The girls about here are very bad nowadays, Jenny," said the mother to
the bride.

"I see now why she wanted Mr. Butler," quoth Hobbs, with a knowing
wink--"the slut has come to swear!"

And it was for this that Alice had supported her strength--her
courage-during the sharp pangs of childbirth; during a severe and
crushing illness, which for months after her confinement had stretched
her upon a peasant's bed (the object of the rude but kindly charity
of an Irish shealing)--for this, day after day, she had whispered to
herself, "I shall get well, and I will beg my way to the cottage, and
find him there still, and put my little one into his arms, and all will
be bright again;"--for this, as soon as she could walk without aid, had
she set out on foot from the distant land; for this, almost with a dog's
instinct (for she knew not what way to turn--what county the cottage was
placed in; she only knew the name of the neighbouring town; and that,
populous as it was, sounded strange to the ears of those she asked; and
she had often and often been directed wrong),--for this, I say, almost
with a dog's faithful instinct, had she, in cold and heat, in hunger and
in thirst, tracked to her old master's home her desolate and lonely way!
And thrice had she over-fatigued herself--and thrice again been indebted
to humble pity for a bed whereon to lay a feverish and broken frame. And
once, too, her baby--her darling, her life of life, had been ill--had
been near unto death, and she could not stir till the infant (it was
a girl) was well again, and could smile in her face and crow. And
thus many, many months had elapsed, since the day she set out on her
pilgrimage, to that on which she found its goal. But never, save when
the child was ill, had she desponded or abated heart and hope. She
should see him again, and he would kiss her child.