These men, after examining Flo, fetched a cab, and placing her in it, conveyed her to the London Hospital, and one, at parting, gave Scamp a kick.
“Dead! poor brute!” he said, and so they left him.
They left him, and the pure snow, falling thickly now, formed a fit covering for him, and so heavily did it lie over him in the drift into which he had fallen, that the next day he was shovelled away, a frozen mass, in its midst, and no mortal eye again saw him, nor rough mortal hand again touched him.
Thus God Himself made a shroud for His poor faithful creature, and the world, did it but know it, was the poorer by the loss of Scamp.
Chapter Nineteen.
Queen Victoria and Flo.
Flo was carried into the Buxton Ward for children.
They laid her in one of the pretty white cots, close to a little girl of three, who was not very ill, and who suspended her play with her toys to watch her.