"Yes," added Amy, "if you will try to do better, we will all try to help
you. I shall come to see the baby again. Oh, Leonard," she added, as she
placed the child in its cradle, "can't we leave one of the blankets from
the sleigh? See, the baby has scarcely any covering."

"But you may be cold."

"No; I am dressed warmly. Oh! see! see! the little darling is smiling up
at me! Leonard, please do. I'd rather be cold."

"Bless your good heart, miss!" said the man, more touched than ever.
"Never had any sich wisitors afore."

When Amy had tucked the child in warm he followed her and Leonard to the
sleigh and said, "Good-by, miss; I'm a-going to work like a man, and
there's my hand on it agin."

Going to work was Lumley's loftiest idea of reformation, and many others
would find it a very good beginning. As they drove away they heard the
ring of his axe, and it had a hopeful sound.

For a time Leonard was closely occupied with the intricacies of the road,
and when at last he turned and looked at Amy, she was crying.

"There, don't take it so to heart," he said, soothingly.

"Oh, Leonard, I never saw anything like it before. That poor little
baby's smile went right to my heart. And to think of its awful mother!"

They paused on an eminence and looked back on the dim outline of the