“Ain’t you better then?” asked the woman, with an apparent effort to speak in a sympathetic tone which did not come easily to her.
“I’m very bad,” whispered the other, drawing her breath as if in pain.
“Ay, you’ve got a bad cold, that’s what it is. I’ll make you some gruel presently, and put some rum in it. You don’t take care of yourself: I told you how it ‘ud be when you came in with those wringin’ things on, on Thursday night.”
“They’ve found out about me at the school,” gasped Lotty, with a despairing look, “and Ida’s got sent away.”
“She has? Well, never mind, you can find another, I suppose. I can’t see myself what she wants with so much schoolin’, but I suppose you know best about your own affairs.”
“Oh, I feel that bad! If I get over this, I’ll give it up—God help me, I will! I’ll get my living honest, if there’s any way. I never felt so bad as I do now.”
“Pooh!” exclaimed the woman. “Wait a bit till you get rid of your sore throat, and you’ll think different. Poorly people gets all sorts
