sensible of a certain
comfort in the soft lustre shed around her. She seemed still young; her
face, rendered haggard by long and bitter privation, showed traces of
past beauty, and her eyes, full of feverish trouble, were large, dark,
and still lustrous. Her mouth alone--that sensitive betrayer of the
life's good and bad actions--revealed that all had not been well with
her; its lines were hard and vicious, and the resentful curve of the
upper lip spoke of foolish pride, not unmixed with reckless sensuality.
She sat for a moment or two motionless; then, with exceeding care and
tenderness, she began to unfold her thin, torn shawl by gentle degrees,
looking down with anxious solicitude at the object concealed within.
Only a baby--and withal a baby so tiny and white and frail that it
seemed as though it must melt like a snowflake beneath the lightest
touch. As its wrappings were loosened it opened a pair of large,
solemn blue eyes, and gazed at the woman's face with a strange, pitiful
wistfulness. It lay quiet, without moan, a pinched, pale miniature of
suffering humanity--an infant with sorrow's mark painfully impressed
upon its drawn, small features. Presently it stretched forth a puny hand
and feebly caressed its protectress, and this, too, with the faintest
glimmer of a smile. The woman responded to its affection with a sort of
rapture; she caught it fondly to her breast and covered it with kisses,
rocking it to and fro with broken words of endearment. "My little
darling!" she whispered, softly. "My little pet! Yes, yes, I know! So
tired, so cold and hungry! Never mind, baby, never mind! We will rest
here a little; then we will sing a song presently, and get some money
to take us home. Sleep awhile longer, deary! There! now we are warm and
cosey again."

So saying, she rearranged her shawl in closer and tighter folds, so
as to protect the child more thoroughly. While she was engaged in this
operation a lady in deep mourning passed close by her, and, advancing
to the very steps of the altar, knelt down, hiding her face with her
clasped hands. The tired wayfarer's attention was attracted by this; she
gazed with a sort of dull wonder at the kneeling figure robed in rich
rustling silk and crape, and gradually her eyes wandered upward, upward,
till they rested on the gravely sweet and serenely smiling
marble image of the Virgin and Child. She looked and looked
again--surprised--incredulous; then suddenly rose to her feet an