She had taken the soft little hands into her own; and evil and cruel though she was, an impulse of tenderness flowed into her heart from the angels who were present with the innocent child.

It grew lovely in her eyes.

Its helplessness stirred in her a latent instinct of protection.

"No no, it must not be," she was saying to herself, when the door opened and Mrs.Dinneford came back.
Mrs.Bray did not lift her head, but sat looking down at the baby and toying with its hands.
"Pshaw!" ejaculated Mrs.Dinneford, in angry disgust, as she noticed this manifestation of interest.

"Bundle the thing up and throw into that basket.