spite of Eliza and his sixty years with a free bearing and a
confident glance to right and left. He knew, and the village knew, that
he was not as other men.

He passed the village green with its pond, and began to climb a lane
leading to the hill. Halfway 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 stairhole, 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 be