And they shall tear me to pieces before I will let them carry me.

Poor baby! poor baby! I know he will be ill,' she said, moaning, but still so that he, standing beyond the railings, should hear her through the window.

'I know he will be ill; but what can I do?
They do not care for my baby.

If he should die it will be nothing to them.' During all this Mrs.Bolton kept her resolve, and sat there rigid, with her eyes fixed on vacancy, speaking no word, apparently paying no attention to the scene around her.

Her back was turned to the front door, so that she could not see John Caldigate.