un away that night, and come here, and told
'em you was my brother, and they believed me, and I've been here ever
since.'

'This poor little Marchioness has been wearing herself to death!' cried
Dick.

'No I haven't,' she returned, 'not a bit of it. Don't you mind about
me. I like sitting up, and I've often had a sleep, bless you, in one
of them chairs. But if you could have seen how you tried to jump out
o' winder, and if you could have heard how you used to keep on singing
and making speeches, you wouldn't have believed it--I'm so glad you're
better, Mr Liverer.'

'Liverer indeed!' said Dick thoughtfully. 'It's well I am a liverer.
I strongly suspect I should have died, Marchioness, but for you.'

At this point, Mr Swiveller took the small servant's hand in his again,
and being, as we have seen, but poorly, might in struggling to express
his thanks have made his eyes as red as hers, but that she quickly
changed the theme by making him lie down, and urging him to keep very
quiet.

'The doctor,' she told him, 'said you was to be kept quite still, and
there was to be no noise nor nothing. Now, take a rest, and then we'll
talk again. I'll sit by you, you know. If you shut your eyes, perhaps
you'll go to sleep. You'll be all the better for it, if you do.'

The Marchioness, in saying these words, brought a little table to the
bedside, took her seat at it, and began to work away at the concoction
of some cooling drink, with the address of a score of chemists.
Richard Swiveller being indeed fatigued, fell into a slumber, and
waking in about half an hour, inquired what time it was.

'Just gone half after six,' replied his small friend, helping him to
sit up again.

'Marchioness,' said Richard, passing his hand over his forehead and
turning suddenly round, as though the subject but that moment flashed
upon him, 'what has become of Kit?'

He had been sentenced to transportation for a great many years, she
said.

'Has he gone?' asked Dick--'his mother--how is she,--what has become of
her?'

His nurse shook her head, and answered that she knew nothing about
them. 'But, if I thought,' said she, very slowly, 'that you'd keep
quiet, and not put yourself into another fever, I could tell you--but
I won't now.'

'Yes, do,' said Dick. 'It will amuse me.'

'Oh! would it though!' rejoined the small servant, with a horrified
look. 'I know better than that. Wait till you're better and then I'll
tell you.'