ver your own
coffin afore it comes from the undertaker. What, Doll, hast really got
here? I scarce looked to see thee afore morning. Good-night, maids."

And Mrs Wade bustled away.

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Note 1. At this time they used the word _meat_ in the sense of food of
any kind--not butchers meat only.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN.

A DARK NIGHT'S ERRAND.

"Must you be gone, Bessy?" said Dorothy Denny, sitting down on the side
of her bed with a weary air. "Eh, I'm proper tired! Thought this day
'd never come to an end, I did. Couldn't you tarry a bit longer?"

"I don't think I ought, Dorothy. Your mistress looked to see Rose abed
by now, 'twas plain; and mine gave me leave but till eight o' the clock.
I'd better be on my way."

"Oh, you're one of that sort that's always thinking what they _ought_,
are you? That's all very well in the main; but, dear heart! one wants a
bit of what one would like by nows and thens."

"One gets that best by thinking what one ought," said Elizabeth.

"Ay, but it's all to come sometime a long way off; and how do I know
it'll come to me? Great folks doesn't take so much note of poor ones,
and them above 'll very like do so too."

"There's only One above that has any right to bid aught," answered
Elizabeth, "and He takes more note of poor than rich, Doll, as you'll
find by the Bible. Good-night, Rose; good-night, Dorothy."

And Elizabeth ran lightly down the stairs, and out so into the street.
She had a few minutes left before the hour at which Mrs Clere had
enjoined her to be back, so she did not need to hurry, and she went
quietly on towards Balcon Lane, carrying her lantern--for there were no
street lamps, and nobody could have any light on a winter evening except
what he carried with him. Just before she turned the corner of the lane
she met two women, both rather heavily laden. Elizabeth was passing on,
when her steps were arrested by hearing one of them say,--

"I do believe that's Bess Foulkes; and if it be--"

Elizabeth came to a standstill.

"Yes, I'm Bess Foulkes," she said. "What of that?"

"Why, then, you'll give me a lift, be sure, as far as the North Hill.
I've got more than I can carry, and I was casting about for a face I
knew."

"I've not much time to spare," said Elizabeth; "but I'll give you a lift
as far as Saint Peter's--I can't go further. Margaret Thurston, isn't
it? I must be in by ei