a boy. It'll be sooner forgotten about if he is."

"I'm afraid," said Anne, growing expansive beneath the good sense which
attacked every practical side of the matter, and dissolved difficulties
as soon as they arose, "that she'll get little work to do when she comes
out. People talk unkindly, and say that you must make a difference
between her and other girls."

"Oh! there'll always be some clever folk like that," said Mrs Hankworth,
drily. "The difference that anyone can see if they use their eyes is,
that _she'll_ have a child to keep and _they_ won't. She's no idea where
she'll go, I suppose?"

"She doesn't seem to know where she is now," replied Anne. "It's
terrible to see anybody drinking such bitter waters as that poor girl.
She thinks we're all against her, and I'm a religious old maid. So she
shuts herself up, and doesn't say a word."

"Don't you worry, Miss Hilton," said Mrs Hankworth; "she'll look for
friends when the baby comes. She'll stir herself for his sake, if she
won't for her own. We're going to have Mr Charter to stop to-morrow
night. You'll be going to the Home Missions, won't you?" she said, as if
all had been said that could be.

"It'll be a great treat to hear Mr Charter," said Anne. "He's such a
kind way of talking about everybody. It's a season of grace and sweet
delight when he comes."

"He's got such a way with children and young people," said Mrs
Hankworth, steering away from "experiences." "There's my big lad