alf-way up stood two cottages sideways. Phloxes
and marigolds grew untidily about their doorways, and straggly roses,
starved a little by the chalk soil, looked in at their latticed
windows. They were, however, comparatively modern and comfortable,
with two bedrooms above and two living-rooms below, far superior to the
older and more picturesque cottages in the main street.

John went in softly, put down his straw dinner-bag, and took off his
heavy boots. Then he opened a door in the wall of the kitchen, and
gently climbed the stairs.

A girl was sitting by the bed. When she saw his whitish head and red
face emerge against the darkness of the stair-hole, she put up her
finger for silence.

John crept in and came to look at the patient. His eyes grew round and
staring, his colour changed.

"Is she a-goin'?" he said, with evident excitement.

Jim's Louisa shook her head. She was rather a stupid girl, heavy and
round-faced, but she had nursed her grandmother well.

"No; she's asleep. Muster Drew's been here, and she dropped off while
he was a-talkin' to her."

Mr. Drew was the Congregational minister.

"Did she send for him?"

"Yes; she said she felt her feet a-gettin' cold, and I must run. But I
don't believe she's no worse."

John stood looking down, ruefully. Suddenly the figure in the bed
turned.

"John," said a comparatively strong voice which made Bolderfield
start--"John, Muster Drew says you'd oughter put it in the bank.
You'll be a fool if yer don't, 'ee says."

The old woman's pinched face emerged from the sheets, looking up at
him. Bluish patches showed here and there on the drawn white skin;
there was a great change since the morning, but the eyes were still
alive.

John was silent a moment, one corner of his mouth twitching, as though
what she had said struck him in a humorous light.

"Well, I don't know as I mind much what 'ee says, 'Liza."

"Sit down."

She made a movement with her emaciated hand. John sat down on the
chair Louisa gave up to him, and bent down over the bed.

"If yer woan't do--what Muster Drew says, John--whatever _wull_ yer do
with it?"

She spoke slowly, but clearly. John scratched his head. His
complexion had evidently been very fair. It was still fresh and pink,
and the full cheek hung a little over the jaw. The mouth was shrewd,
but its expression was oddly contradicted by the eyes, which had on the
whole a childish, weak look.

"I think yer mus