to-morrow---- Oh, my God! what's that?
Oh, my God, help me!"

The needle fell through her powerless fingers; the finger and thumb
were drawn apart, as though they had not the power to get together
again. Grannie gazed at her right hand in a sort of panic.

"There; it has happened once or twice afore," she said to
herself--"that dreadful prick and stab, and then all the power goin'
sudden-like--of course it's rheumatis--there, I've no cause to be
frightened; it's passing off; only it do make me sick and faint. I'll
have a cup of tea and then another rub of the liniment."

The great agony frightened her very much; it took some of her high
spirits away. She rose slowly, and made her tea, drank it off scalding
hot, and then rubbed some more liniment on the hand. It was not quite
so comforting nor quite so warming this time as it was on the former
occasion. She washed her hands again, and set to work.

"Oh, good Lord, give me strength!" she murmured, as she seized her
needle and thread. "Think of all the children, Lord, and the little
ones so fat and well fed; remember me, good Lord, and take the
rheumatis away, _ef_ it's your good will."

She took up her needle with renewed courage, and once more began to
perform those curious movements of wrist and hand which were necessary
to produce the feather-stitching. In ten minutes the pain returned,
the powerless finger and thumb refused to grasp the needle. Large
drops of sweat stood out now on Grannie's forehead.

"Wot do it mean?" she said to herself. "I never heerd tell of
rheumatis like this, and for certain it aint writers' cramp, for I
never write. Oh, what an awful sort of thing writing is, when a letter
once in six months knocks you over in this way. Dear, dear, I'm
a-shaking, but I 'a' done a nice little bit, and it's past three
o'clock. I'll go to bed. The doctor spoke a deal about rest; I didn't
mind him much. He was all wrong about the pain, but perhaps he were
right about the rest, so I'll go straight to bed."

Grannie carefully slacked down the fire, put out the lamp, and stole
into the little bedroom which she shared with the two younger children.
Harry and David were already asleep in the lean-to at the other side of
the kitchen, the opposite room to Alison's. The well-fed children in
Grannie's bed breathed softly in their happy slumbers; the little old
woman got in between them and lay down icy cold, and trembling a good
deal. The children