She grows daily more care-worn and sad, fixing upon her child alarmed eyes, whereof the little boy cannot interpret the expression. She starts up of a night and peeps into his room stealthily, to see that he is sleeping and not stolen away. She sleeps but little now. A constant thought and terror is haunting her. How she weeps and prays in the long silent nights--how she tries to hide from herself the thought which will return to her, that she ought to part with the boy, that she is the only barrier between him and prosperity. She can't, she can't. Not now, at least. Some other day. Oh! it is too hard to think of and to bear.

She grows daily more care-worn and sad, fixing upon her child alarmed eyes. She starts up at night and peeps into his room stealthily, to see that he is sleeping and not stolen away. She sleeps little now. A constant terror is haunting her. How she weeps and prays in the long silent nights - how she tries to hide from herself the thought which will return to her, that she ought to part with the boy, that she is the only barrier between him and prosperity. She can't, she can't. Not now. Some other day. Oh! it is too hard to think of.
