“I wish my breakfast brought to me here,” said Mrs. Lane.

The girl stared a moment and then retired.  Soon after, the Irish landlady made her appearance.

“What is it ye wants, mum?” said that personage, drawing herself up and assuming an air of vulgar dignity and importance.

“Nothing,” replied Mrs. Lane, “except a little bread and milk for my child.”

“Isn’t yees coming down to breakfast?”

Mrs. Lane shook her head.

“Ye’d better.  It’s all ready.”

“I don’t wish any thing.  But if you’ll send me up something for my child, I will be obliged to you.”

The landlady stood for some moments, as if undecided what she should do, and then retired.  About half an hour afterwards, a dirty looking Irish girl appeared with a waiter, on which were the articles for which she had asked.

“Don’t ye want any thing for yerself, mum?” asked the girl, with some kindness in her voice.

“No, I thank you,” was replied.

“You’d better eat a little.”

“I’ve no appetite,” said Mrs. Lane, turning her face away to conceal the emotion that was rising to the surface.

The girl retired, and the food brought for the child was placed before her; but she felt as little inclined to eat as her mother, and could not be induced to take a mouthful.  Turning from the offered food, she raised her tearful eyes to her mother’s face, and in a choking voice said—­“Go home, mamma—­see papa.”

The words smote, like heavy strokes, upon the mother’s heart.  How great a wrong had she done her child!  But could she retrace her steps now?  Could she go back and humble herself under the imperious will of her husband?  Her heart shrunk from the thought.  Any thing but that! it would crush the life out of her.  An hour she sat, with these and kindred thoughts passing through her mind, when the girl who had brought up Mary’s breakfast came in and said—­“Won’t yees walk down into the parlour, mum, while I clean up your room?”

“Is any one down there?” asked Mrs. Lane.

“No, mum,” was answered by the girl.

With some reluctance Mrs. Lane descended to the small, dingy parlour, which she found adjoining a bar-room, whence there came the loud voices of men.  From a window she looked forth upon the street, which was narrow, and crowded with carts, drays, and other vehicles.  Opposite were old houses, in which business of various kinds was carried on.  One was occupied by a cooper; another used as a storehouse for fish; another for a grog-shop.  Every thing was dirty and crowded, and all appeared bustle and confusion.  It was plain to her that she had fallen in an evil place, and that her first business must be escape.  As she sat meditating upon the next step, there came suddenly, from the bar-room, the sound of angry voices, mingled with fierce threats and shocking blasphemy.  Springing to her feet in terror, Mrs. Lane caught up her child, and was about starting from the door without any covering upon her head, when the landlady intercepted her.