and turned her eyes away from those of her child. "Want to go home,"
lisped the unhappy babe--"see papa."

"Yes, dear," soothingly answered the mother.

Little Mary turned her eyes to the door with an expectant look, as
if she believed her father, whom she loved, was about to enter, and
listened for some moments.

"Papa! papa!" she called in anxious tones, and listened again; but
there was no response. Her little lip began to quiver, then it
curled grievingly; and, falling over, she hid her face against her
mother and began sobbing.

Tenderly did the mother take her weeping child to her bosom, and
hold it there in a long embrace. After it had grown calm she arose,
and adjusting her rumpled garments, and those of Mary, sat down by
the windows to await the events that were to follow. In about half
an hour a bell was rung in the passage below, and soon after a girl
came to her room to say that breakfast was ready.

"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