s his wife on the floor as if dead, and a
little way from her the child, dead indeed, and cold with death. He
lifted Letty and carried her to the bed, amazed to find how light she
was: it was long since he had had her thus in his arms. Then he laid
her dead baby by her side, and ran to rouse the doctor. He came, and
pronounced the child quite dead--from lack of nutrition, he said. To
see Tom, no one could have helped contrasting his dress and appearance
with the look and surroundings of his wife; but no one would have been
ready to lay blame on him; and, as for himself, he was not in the least
awake to the fact of his guilt.

The doctor gave the landlady, who had responded at once to Tom's call,
full directions for the care of the bereaved mother; Tom handed her the
little money he had in his pocket, and she promised to do her best. And
she did it; for she was one of those, not a few, who, knowing nothing
of religion toward God, are yet full of religion toward their fellows,
and with the Son of Man that goes a long way. As soon as it was light,
Tom went to see about the burying of his baby.

He betook himself first to the editor of "The Firefly," but had to wait
a long time for his arrival at the office. He told him his baby was
dead, and he wanted money. It was forthcoming at once; for literary
men, like all other artists, are in general as ready to help each other
as the very poor themselves. There is less generosity, I think, among
business-men than in any other class. The more honor to the exceptions!

"But," said the editor, who had noted the dry, burning palm, and saw
the glazed, fiery eye of Tom, "my dear fellow, you ought to be in bed
yourself. It's no use taking on about the poor little kid: _you_
couldn't help it. Go home to your wife, and tell her she's got you to
nurse; and, if she's in any fix, tell her to come to me."

Tom went home, but did not give his wife the message. She lay all but
insensible, never asked for anything, or refused anything that was
offered her, never said a word about her baby, or about Tom, or seemed
to be more than when she lay in her mother's lap. Her baby was buried,
and she knew nothing of it. Not until nine days were over did she begin
to revive.

For the first few days, Tom, moved with undefined remorse, tried to
take a part in nursing her. She took things from him, as she did from
the landlady, without heed or recognition. Just once, opening suddenly
her eyes wide upon hi