long while she lay where she was, feeling very sick and ill, but
better than in the night. At last her mother woke.

'Liza!' she called.

'Yus, mother,' she answered feebly.

'Git us a cup of tea, will yer?'

'I can't, mother, I'm ill.'

'Garn!' said Mrs. Kemp, in surprise. Then looking at her: 'Swop me bob,
wot's up with yer? Why, yer cheeks is flushed, an' yer forehead--it is
'ot! Wot's the matter with yer, gal?'

'I dunno,' said Liza. 'I've been thet bad all night, I thought I was
goin' ter die.'

'I know wot it is,' said Mrs. Kemp, shaking her head; 'the fact is, you
ain't used ter drinkin', an' of course it's upset yer. Now me, why I'm
as fresh as a disy. Tike my word, there ain't no good in teetotalism;
it finds yer aht in the end, an' it's found you aht.'

Mrs. Kemp considered it a judgment of Providence. She got up and mixed
some whisky and water.

''Ere, drink this,' she said. 'When one's 'ad a drop too much at
night, there's nothin' like havin' a drop more in the mornin' ter put
one right. It just acts like magic.'

'Tike it awy,' said Liza, turning from it in disgust; 'the smell of it
gives me the sick. I'll never touch spirits again.'

'Ah, thet's wot we all says sometime in our lives, but we does, an'
wot's more we can't do withaht it. Why, me, the 'ard life I've 'ad--.'
It is unnecessary to repeat Mrs. Kemp's repetitions.

Liza did not get up all day. Tom came to inquire after her, and was
told she was very ill. Liza plaintively asked whether anyone else had
been, and sighed a little when her mother answered no. But she felt
too ill to think much or trouble much about anything. The fever came
again as the day wore on, and the pains in her head grew worse. Her
mother came to bed, and quickly went off to sleep, leaving Liza to
bear her agony alone. She began to have frightful pains all over her,
and she held her breath to prevent herself from crying out and waking
her mother. She clutched the sheets in her agony, and at last, about
six o'clock in the morning, she could bear it no longer, and in the
anguish of labour screamed out, and woke her mother.

Mrs. Kemp was frightened out of her wits. Going upstairs she woke the
woman who lived on the floor above her. Without hesitating, the good
lady put on a skirt and came down.

'She's 'ad a miss,' she said, after looking at Liza. 'Is there anyone
you could send to the 'orspital?'

'Na, I dunno 'oo I could get at this hour?'

'Well, I'll git m