Grace went up to the woman, and touched her on the shoulder. The woman looked up. Her face was wild and sad, the hair strayed over the cheeks and forehead, matted with tears, and the expression was awful in its utter despair. Grace said:
"You are very unhappy; I am come to comfort you, if you will let me."
"Who are you?" said the woman vacantly.
"A friend to all who are in trouble," answered Grace, with a sob in her voice; "and I thought, if I came to you, it might relieve you."
The woman seemed to try and gather her faculties together. "I do not remember you. The visiting ladies is not like you."
"But you will let me visit you? Perhaps I can do you more good than they can."
"No, no; you are very kind, lady, but 'tan't no use."
"I know what your trouble is, but there is comfort even for that sorrow. He may repent; have you any influence over him?"
She shook her head. Grace pointed to the cradle.
"And has that no influence upon him? To-day, when he is sober, it may have. Take the baby, and go and see him. If you do him good, it will make you happier; if not, you will have done your duty."