The Unclassed

She was unusually late, and her mother would be anxious. Still, whe

d gladly have hidden herself away somewhere in the dark from every eye; her overwhelming concern was for the pain she knew she was going to cause

t her mother was waiting for her, with tea ready on the table as usual. Mrs. Starr was seldom at home during the child's dinner-hour, and Ida had not seen her at all to-day. For it was only occasionally that she shared her mother's bedroom; it was the rule for her to sleep with Mrs. Ledward, th

ch the knocker, and gave her usual two distinct raps. Mrs. Ledward opened the door to her in person; a large woman, with pressed lips and eyes that s

eyes, as far as one could guess, fixed upon the houses opposite, her hand

t?" exclaimed Ida, forgetting her troubl

rned Mrs. Ledw

, which, with its bright fire, tasteful little lamp, white coverlets and general air of fresh orderliness, made a comfortable appearance. The air was scented, too, with some pleasant odour of a not too pungent kind. But the t

usly, her voice husky and feeble, as if

traight to the bed and offered the acc

a," she went on, her face growing to a calmer expression as she gazed at the child "Ain't I a naughty mother? But i

d at the granted leave

ch it, and we shall both be laid up at once. Oh, Ida, I do feel that poorly, I do!

ad to tell; her own eyes overflowed in sympathy. She put her ar

l I get you a cup of tea, dear? Wo

yet. You'll have to be a mother to me to-night, Ida. I al

t only for a moment, th

g about! Of course

deed I don'

Let me see you get your tea, and then perhaps it'll make me feel I could drink a cup. There, you've put your h

yet the face on the pillow was the more childish at present. In the mother's eyes was a helpless look, a gaze of unintelligent misery, such as one could not conceive on Ida's countenance; her lips, too, were weakly parted, and seemed trembling to a sob, whilst sorrow only made the child close hers the firmer. In the one case a pallor not merely of present illness, but that wasting whiteness which is only seen

n them; at times she gave herself up to the luxury of feeling like an infant dependent on another's care; and cried just for the pleasure of being petted and consoled. Ida had made up her mind to leave her disclosure till the next morning; impossible to grieve her mother with such shocking news when she was so poorly. Yet the little girl with difficulty kept a cheerful countenance; as often as a moment's silence left her to her

, when a timid question had at length elicited ass

you could. But you are a comfort to me, for all that; I don't know what I s

wouldn't disturb you; indeed, indeed I wouldn't! You don't know how quiet I lie. If I'm wakeful ever I seem to have such a lot t

and exerted every effort to console this strange grief. The outburst only endured a minute or two, however; t

ut me out, bothering me, Ida. Tell me, what do you think about when you lay awake? Don't you think you'd

nimal book, and the geography-book; and-and then I begin my wishing-tho

ughts about?" inquired the mo

Then I should know so much more, and I should be able to understand all the thing

" said Lotty, with a quiet sadness u

h nicer to be a boy. They're stronger than girls, and

y. "Boys aren't such a trouble, and the

to you," exclaimed Ida. "When

the misfortune which had come upon her. But her mother did not obse

ou?" Lotty sobbed out presently. "I

the

y, I'd like to know? And some day you'll hate me; oh yes, you will! Some day you'll wish to forget all about me, and you'll ne

as these before. The poor child could say nothing in reply; the terrible thought that she herself was brin

had a troubled night, and, when the daylight came again, Lotty was no better. Ida rose in anguish of spirit, torturing herself to find a way of telling what must be told. Yet she had ano

a doze, when the landlady brought the letter upstairs. The child took it in, answered an inquiry about her mother

r mother's face, conscious of nothing but an agonised expectation of seeing

her," said Ida, her own voice s

which was all she could command "I suppose she

suffered as she never did

better leave the explanation to herself; she is truthful, and will tell you what has compel

THERF

as though she had been reading in cla

n bed and st

-what ever have you done? I

, and covered her all over with bl

eyes; stood with head hung down,

o it?" asked Lot

mother; she-she said

hands, gazed horror-struck. But in a moment Ida had her arms around the distraught woman, pressing the dazed head against her breast. Lotty began to utter incoherent self-reproaches, unintelligible to her little comforter; her voice had become the merest whisper; she seemed to have quite exhausted herself. Just now there came a

ith an apparent effort to speak in a sympat

ed the other, drawing h

ntly, and put some rum in it. You don't take care of yourself: I told you how

chool," gasped Lotty, with a despair

se. I can't see myself what she wants with so much school

t up-God help me, I will! I'll get my living honest,

ore throat, and you'll think different. Poorly people gets all sort

o? I've only got

You don't suppose I'll turn you out in the streets? W

mfort she could in her hard, half-indifferent way. Another night passed, and in the morning Lotty seemed a little better. Her throat was not so painful, but she breathed wi

"get me some note-paper and an envelope out of the box

arrange herself so as to be able to write. She covered four pages with a

id, listening. "It's half-past e

obeyed,

e's a shilling. Now, say this after me: Mr. Ab

ated the

you ask your way to Number-, St. John Street Road; it isn't far off. Knock at the door, and ask if Mr. Abra'm Woodstock is in. If he is, say you want

dropped back again on the pillow, and turned her face

ou gone?" aske

me, mo

passionate embrace, and

k some distance down St. John Street Road, in the direction of the City, before discovering the house she desired to find. When she reached it, it proved to be a very dingy tenement, the ground-f

. Yes, Mr. Woodstock was at home. Ida

ld be heard from the other side of it. One of these voices very shortly r

now one thing, and that is, I won't have you hanging about any longer. I'll meet you there myself, and if it's a third-floor window you get pitched out of, well, it won't be my fault. Now I don't want any more talk with you. This is most folks' praying-time; I wonder you're not at it. It's my time for writing letters, an

left the house. Behind him came the last speaker. At the sight of the waiting child he st

looking closely at Ida,

for Mr. Abra'm

it here. Who

Starr,

arr? Come in h

from her face. Ida, on her side, did not dare to look up at him. He was a massively built, grey-headed man of something more than sixty. Everything about him expressed strength and determination, power alike of body and mind. His features were large and heavy, but the forehead would have become a man of strong

of the writing he, not exactly started, but moved his head

. He himself took a seat deliberately at a desk, whence he could watch Ida, and began to rea

inning, at the same time, to tear the letter into very

ir,-Ida

it seems your mother wants to put you in the way of earning your living." The child looked up in fear and astonishment. "You can carry a message? You'll

the child's lips involuntarily, her hor

thing like a sneer, tapping the desk with the fingers of his right

an," stam

d tell your mother it's all

, watching her. Ida made what haste she cou