Ah, Heaven! the change that came over her, the passion of mother love
that came into her face; she was transformed.

"Let me hold the little one for you," she said, "while you rest for a
few minutes;" and the poor, young mother gratefully accepted the offer.

What a picture she made in the gloomy room of the little cottage, her
beautiful face and shining hair, her dress sweeping the ground, and the
tiny child lying in her arms.

"Does it suffer much?" she asked, in her sweet, compassionate voice.

"It did, ma'am," replied the mother, "but I have given it something to
keep it quiet."

"Do you mean to say that you have drugged it?" asked Mrs. Fleming.

"Only a little cordial, ma'am, nothing more; it keeps it sleeping; and
when it sleeps it does not suffer."

She shook her beautiful head.

"It is a bad practice," she said; "more babes are killed by drugs than
die a natural death."

I was determined she should look at me; I stepped forward and touched
the child's face.

"Do you not think it is merciful at times to give a child like this
drugs when it has to die; to lessen the pain of death--to keep it from