"My baby first," she said faintly, drawing back.
"Not coffee for her; get some milk," he said, looking up at the coffee-house keeper, who had followed him out.
She hastened back, and soon came with some in a teacup.
Meanwhile the sick mother had with difficulty raised herself from the still-supporting knee, and had settled her babe in her lap, so that when the milk came she might be ready for it. Then she stretched out her wasted hand for the coffee, and drank it eagerly.
When the milk arrived, the young mother took the spoon and poured a little into the poor little mouth. The child stopped crying, and swallowed it; but before she could get ready the next spoonful it began again.
"When was it last fed?" asked Dr. Arundel.
"I had nothing for it," she answered, "so I spent my last halfpenny last night for a hap'orth of milk, and it had the rest of that early this morning."
"Poor little baby," he said pityingly. "Now while you give it a few more spoonfuls, I will go and get a cab, and will take you where I promised."
He went to his wife, who had been anxiously looking out of the carriage window, but could not leave little Tom.
"Starvation!" he said sadly. "Poor things. I cannot go with you, love; I must take her to Cromer Street. What a mercy our little hospital room has a bed vacant!"