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it； from head to foot。
'Is it a girl？'
'Yes。' He put his hand before its little face。
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'See how weak I'm grown； Margaret； when I want the courage to look
at it！ Let her be； a moment。 I won't hurt her。 It's long ago； but …
What's her name？'
'Margaret；' she answered； quickly。
'I'm glad of that；' he said。 'I'm glad of that！' He seemed to breathe
more freely； and after pausing for an instant； took away his hand； and
looked upon the infant's face。 But covered it again； immediately。
'Margaret！' he said； and gave her back the child。 'It's Lilian's。'
'Lilian's！'
'I held the same face in my arms when Lilian's mother died and left
her。'
'When Lilian's mother died and left her！' she repeated； wildly。
'How shrill you speak！ Why do you fix your eyes upon me so？
Margaret！'
She sunk down in a chair； and pressed the infant to her breast； and
wept over it。 Sometimes； she released it from her embrace； to look
anxiously in its face： then strained it to her bosom again。 At those
times； when she gazed upon it； then it was that something fierce and
terrible began to mingle with her love。 Then it was that her old father
quailed。
'Follow her！' was sounded through the house。 'Learn it； from the
creature dearest to your heart！'
'Margaret；' said Fern； bending over her； and kissing her upon the brow：
'I thank you for the last time。 Good night。 Good bye！ Put your hand
in mine； and tell me you'll forget me from this hour； and try to think the
end of me was here。'
'What have you done？' she asked again。
'There'll be a Fire to…night；' he said； removing from her。 'There'll be
Fires this winter…time； to light the dark nights； East； West； North； and
South。 When you see the distant sky red； they'll be blazing。 When you
see the distant sky red； think of me no more； or； if you do； remember what
a Hell was lighted up inside of me； and think you see its flames reflected
in the clouds。 Good night。 Good bye！' She called to him； but he was
gone。 She sat down stupefied； until her infant roused her to a sense of
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hunger； cold； and darkness。 She paced the room with it the livelong night；
hushing it and soothing it。 She said at intervals； 'Like Lilian； when her
mother died and left her！' Why was her step so quick； her eye so wild；
her love so fierce and terrible； whenever she repeated those words？
'But； it is Love；' said Trotty。 'It is Love。 She'll never cease to love it。
My poor Meg！'
She dressed the child next morning with unusual care … ah； vain
expenditure of care upon such squalid robes！ … and once more tried to find
some means of life。 It was the last day of the Old Year。 She tried till
night； and never broke her fast。 She tried in vain。
She mingled with an abject crowd； who tarried in the snow； until it
pleased some officer appointed to dispense the public charity （the lawful
charity； not that once preached upon a Mount）； to call them in； and
question them； and say to this one； 'Go to such a place；' to that one； 'Come
next week；' to make a football of another wretch； and pass him here and
there； from hand to hand； from house to house； until he wearied and lay
down to die； or started up and robbed； and so became a higher sort of
criminal； whose claims allowed of no delay。 Here； too； she failed。
She loved her child； and wished to have it lying on her breast。 And that
was quite enough。
It was night： a bleak； dark； cutting night： when； pressing the child
close to her for warmth； she arrived outside the house she called her home。
She was so faint and giddy； that she saw no one standing in the doorway
until she was close upon it； and about to enter。 Then； she recognised the
master of the house； who had so disposed himself … with his person it was
not difficult … as to fill up the whole entry。
'O！' he said softly。 'You have come back？'
She looked at the child； and shook her head。
'Don't you think you have lived here long enough without paying any
rent？ Don't you think that； without any money； you've been a pretty
constant customer at this shop； now？' said Mr。 Tugby。
She repeated the same mute appeal。
'Suppose you try and deal somewhere else；' he said。 'And suppose
you provide yourself with another lodging。 Come！ Don't you think you
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could manage it？'
She said in a low voice； that it was very late。 To…morrow。
'Now I see what you want；' said Tugby； 'and what you mean。 You
know there are two parties in this house about you； and you delight in
setting 'em by the ears。 I don't want any quarrels； I'm speaking softly to
avoid a quarrel； but if you don't go away； I'll speak out loud； and you shall
cause words high enough to please you。 But you shan't come in。 That I
am determined。'
She put her hair back with her hand； and looked in a sudden manner at
the sky； and the dark lowering distance。
'This is the last night of an Old Year； and I won't carry ill…blood and
quarrellings and disturbances into a New One； to please you nor anybody
else；' said Tugby； who was quite a retail Friend and Father。 'I wonder you
an't ashamed of yourself； to carry such practices into a New Year。 If you
haven't any business in the world； but to be always giving way； and always
making disturbances between man and wife； you'd be better out of it。 Go
along with you。'
'Follow her！ To desperation！'
Again the old man heard the voices。 Looking up； he saw the figures
hovering in the air； and pointing where she went； down the dark street。
'She loves it！' he exclaimed； in agonised entreaty for her。 'Chimes！ she
loves it still！'
'Follow her！' The shadow swept upon the track she had taken； like a