The illness which was
now upon her she felt to be more serious than any she had yet
suffered. Suppose she were to die, and Ida to be left alone in the
world Even before she heard of the child's dismissal from school she
had all but made up her mind to write to her father, and the shock
of that event gave her the last impulse. She wrote a letter of
pitiful entreaty. Would he help her to some means of earning a
living for herself and her child? She could not part from Ida.
Perhaps she had not long to live, and to ask her to give up her
child would be too cruel. She would do anything, would go into
service, perform the hardest and coarsest toil. She told him how Ida
had been brought up, and implored his pity for the child, who at all
events was innocent.
When Ida reached home from her visit to the City, she saw her mother
risen and sitting by the fire. Lotty had found the suspense
insupportable as she lay still, and, though the pains in her chest
grew worse and the feeling of lassitude was gaining upon her, she
had half-dressed, and even tried to move about. Just before the
child's appearance, she seemed to have sunk into something of a doze
on her chair, for, as the door opened, she started and looked about
her in doubt.
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