‘Is the baby alive?’

’No, it died last night.  The children’s all at Mrs. Bond’s.  She come and took ’em away last night, but the master says they must be fetched soon.  He’s up-stairs now, wi’ Dr Madeley and Mr. Brand.’

At this moment Mrs. Hackit heard the sound of a heavy, slow foot, in the passage; and presently Amos Barton entered, with dry despairing eyes, haggard and unshaven.  He expected to find the sitting-room as he left it, with nothing to meet his eyes but Milly’s work-basket in the corner of the sofa, and the children’s toys overturned in the bow-window.  But when he saw Mrs. Hackit come towards him with answering sorrow in her face, the pent-up fountain of tears was opened; he threw himself on the sofa, hid his face, and sobbed aloud.

‘Bear up, Mr. Barton,’ Mrs. Hackit ventured to say at last; ’bear up, for the sake o’ them dear children.’

‘The children,’ said Amos, starting up.  ’They must be sent for.  Some one must fetch them.  Milly will want to ...’

He couldn’t finish the sentence, but Mrs. Hackit understood him, and said, ’I’ll send the man with the pony-carriage for ’em.’

She went out to give the order, and encountered Dr Madeley and Mr. Brand, who were just going.

Mr. Brand said:  ’I am very glad to see you are here, Mrs. Hackit.  No time must be lost in sending for the children.  Mrs. Barton wants to see them.’

‘Do you quite give her up then?’

’She can hardly live through the night.  She begged us to tell her how long she had to live; and then asked for the children.’

The pony-carriage was sent; and Mrs. Hackit, returning to Mr. Barton, said she would like to go up-stairs now.  He went up-stairs with her and opened the door.  The chamber fronted the west; the sun was just setting, and the red light fell full upon the bed, where Milly lay with the hand of death visibly upon her.  The feather-bed had been removed, and she lay low on a mattress, with her head slightly raised by pillows.  Her long fair neck seemed to be struggling with a painful effort; her features were pallid and pinched, and her eyes were closed.  There was no one in the room but the nurse, and the mistress of the free school, who had come to give her help from the beginning of the change.

Amos and Mrs. Hackit stood beside the bed, and Milly opened her eyes.

‘My darling, Mrs. Hackit is come to see you.’

Milly smiled and looked at her with that strange, far-off look which belongs to ebbing life.

‘Are the children coming?’ she said, painfully.

‘Yes, they will be here directly.’

She closed her eyes again.

Presently the pony-carriage was heard; and Amos, motioning to Mrs. Hackit to follow him, left the room.  On their way downstairs she suggested that the carriage should remain to take them away again afterwards, and Amos assented.

There they stood in the melancholy sitting-room—­the five sweet children, from Patty to Chubby—­all, with their mother’s eyes—­all, except Patty, looking up with a vague fear at their father as he entered.  Patty understood the great sorrow that was come upon them, and tried to check her sobs as she heard her papa’s footsteps.