'She was, a little while ago. It is the nights is worst, of course.
Last night she talked an' talked: it's easy to see she has some trouble
on her mind. I haven't got nobody as can sit with her when we have the
shop full. But I was with her up to three o'clock this morning; then
'Lizabeth took my place till the shop was opened for the early corfee.
I don't think she's no worse, and the doctor he don't think so. He's a
clever man, I believe; at all events he has that name, as I may say,
and he lives just round here in Winter Street, a house with
green-painted railing, and 'Spensary' wrote up on the window.'

'Will he call again to-day?'

'I don't suppose as he _would_, but he's sure to be at 'ome in an hour,
and, if you'd like, mum, I'd just send 'Lizabeth round.'

'Thank you; I think I'll go and see him.'

At last the burden of the dinner-hour was over, and 'Lizabeth could be
left alone for a little. Mrs. Gandle washed her hands, in a perfunctory
way, and guided her visitor to a dark flight of stairs. They ascended.
On the top floor the woman stopped and whispered:

'That's the room. Should I just look in first, mum?'

'Please.'

Mrs. Gandle entered and came forth again.

'She seems to me to be asleep, mum. She lays very still, and her eyes
is shut.'

'I'll go in. I shall sit with her for an hour and then go to see the
doctor.'

Mrs. Ormonde passed in. It was a mean little room, not as tidy as it
might have been, and far from as clean. There on the low pillow was a
pale face, with golden hair disordered about the brow; a face so wasted
that it was not easy in the first moment to identify it with that which
had been so wonderful in its spell-bound beauty by the sea-shore. But
it was Thyrza.

Her eyes were only half closed, and it was not a natural sleep that
held her. Mrs. Ormonde examined her for several moments, then just
touched her forehead. Thyrza stirred and muttered something, but gave
no sign of consciousness.

The hour went by very slowly. The traffic in the street was incessant
and noisy; two men, who were selling coals from a cart, for a long time
vied with each other in the utterance of roars drawn out in afflicting
cadence. Mrs. Ormonde now sat by the bed, regarding Thyrza, now went to
the window and looked at the grimy houses opposite. The prescribed
interval had almost elapsed, when Thyrza suddenly raised herself and
said with distinctness:

'You promised me, Lyddy; you know you promise