"'Oh, hush!' I whispered, 'don't let the little ones hear you say so.'
"'I don't care,' she answered, 'they've seen it often enough, and nothing matters now; here's my baby, my only boy, dying of hunger!'
"I had sat hitherto spell-bound by her words, but now I started to my feet. 'Dying!' I said, 'What can I get quickest?'
"'Nought'll save him now,' she said, without a shade of hope in her voice; 'but if you can get him a drop of milk, it would ease me to think he hadn't died hungry.'
"There was a sob now in her tearless voice; but not stopping to say a word, I hastily found the door, and descended the steps.
"You may be sure it was not long before I had got a little milk in a can from a neighbouring shop, and a bit of candle which the woman lent me at my earnest request, and I ran back with them as fast as my feet could carry me.
"Happily a match was forthcoming, and the milk was soon put to the baby's lips. He was about eight months old, but was shrunken up to skin and bone. He took with great difficulty a little of the milk, and then nestled again against his mother.
"'Why didn't you tell us?' I asked, forced to say the words.
"'I couldn't; there, I couldn't, miss. I've never begged yet, and I can't begin. I can die, and they can die, but I can't beg.'
"'Oh dear, Martha!' I said, my voice choked with tears, 'if we'd only known!'