Chapter 19 - Lizzie Leigh

You must listen to me a bit, and not think too much about what I'm going to tell you. Nanny is not my niece, nor any kin to me that I know of. I used to go out working by the day. One day as I came home, I thought some woman was following me. I turned to look. The woman, before I could see her face. But she turned it to one side, offered me something. I held out my arms by instinct. She dropped a bundle into them with a bursting sob that went straight to my heart. It was a baby. I looked round again, but the woman was gone. She had run away as quick as lightning. There was a little packet of clothes, very few. And as if they were made out of its mother's gowns. For they were large patterns to buy for a baby. I was always fond of babies, and I had not my wits about me, father says. For it was very cold, and when I'd seen as well as I could. For it was past ten, that there was no one in the street. I brought it in, and warmed it. Father was very angry when he came, and said he'd take it to the workhouse the next morning. And flighted me sadly about it. But when morning came, I could not bear to part with it. It had slept in my arms all night, and I've heard what workhouse bringing up is. So I told father I'd give up going out working and stay at home, and keep school if I might only keep the baby. And after a while he said, if I earned enough for him to have his comforts, he'd let me. But he's never taken to her. Now, don't tremble so. I've but a little more to tell, and maybe I'm wrong in telling it. But I used to work next door to Mrs. Lomax's in Brabazon Street, and the servants were all thick together, and I heard about Bessie, they called her, being sent away. I don't know that I ever saw her, but the time would be about fitting to this child's age, and I sometimes fancied it was hers. And now, will you look at the little clothes that came with her. Bless her.