Mavis wiped them gently away and softly kissed the
puckered brow.

"There's somethin' I'd like to tell you," said Miss Nippett, some
minutes later.

"Try and get some sleep," urged Mavis.

"But I want to tell someone. It isn't as if you was a larruping girl
who'd laugh, but you're a wife, an' ever so big at that, with what
you're expectin' next week."

"What is it?" asked Mavis.

"Bend over: you never know oo's listening."

Mavis did as she was asked.

"It's Mr Poulter--can't you guess?" faltered Miss Nippett.

"Tell me, dear."

"I b'lieve I love him: reely I do. Don't laugh."

"Why should I?"

"There was nothing in it--don't run away thinking there was--but how
could there be, 'im so great and noble and famous, and me--"

Increasing weakness would not suffer Miss Nippett to finish the
sentence.

Mavis forced her to take some nourishment, after which, Miss Nippett
lay back on her pillow, with her eyes fixed on the clock. Mavis sat in
the chair by the bedside. Now and again, her eyes would seek the
timepiece. Whenever she heard a sound downstairs (for some time the
people of the house could be heard moving about), Miss Nippett would
listen intently and then look wistfully at Mavis.

The girl divined how heartfully the dying woman hungered for Mr
Poulter's coming.

Thrice Mavis offered to seek him out, but on each occasion Miss
Nippett's terrified pleadings not to be left alone constrained her to
stay.

It wanted a few minutes to eight when Miss Nippett fell into a peaceful
doze. Mavis took this opportunity of making herself a much-needed cup
of tea. Whilst she was gratefully sipping it, Miss Nippett suddenly
awoke to say:

"There! There's something I always meant to do."

"Never mind now," said Mavis soothingly.

"But I do. It is something to mind about--I never stood 'Turpsichor' a
noo coat of paint."

"Don't worry about it."

"I always promised I would, but kep' putting it off an' off, an' now
she'll never get it from me. Poor old 'Turpsichor'!"

Miss Nippett soon forgot her neglect of "Turpsichor" and fell into a
further doze.

When she next awoke, she asked:

"Would you mind drawing them curtains?"

"Like that?"

"You are good to me: reely you are."

"Nonsense!"

"But then you ought to be: you've got a good man to love you an' give
you babies."

"What is it you want?" asked Mavis sadly.

"Can you see the 'Scrubbs'?"

"The prison?"

"Yes, the 'Scrubbs.' Can you see 'em?