The worst consequence of my West End journeys was that my nightly visits
to Ilford were fewer than before, and that the constant narrowing of the
margin between my income and my expenses made it impossible for me to go
there during the day.
As a result my baby received less and less attention, and I could not be
blind to the fact that she was growing paler and thinner.
At length she developed a cough which troubled me a great deal. Mrs.
Oliver made light of it, saying a few pennyworths of paregoric would
drive it away, so I hurried off to a chemist, who recommended a soothing
syrup of his own, saying it was safer and more effectual for a child.
The syrup seemed to stop the cough but to disturb the digestion, for I
saw the stain of curdled milk on baby's bib and was conscious of her
increasing weakness.
This alarmed me very much, and little as I knew of children's ailments,
I became convinced that she stood in need of more fresh air, so I
entreated Mrs. Oliver to take her for a walk every day.