'Then I'll away to the doctor this blessed minit, and Miss Miller will be for sendin' that parish nurse she's a startin' of, and who's a kickin' up her heels with naught to keep her out o' mischief. She'll be flyin' down here wi' the greatest joy, and will handle your pots and pans as poor me isn't able, and I'll be back to my dressmakin', not being of no manner o' use in tendin' a sick sister, who's that partickler, and full o' fuss——'
Deb stopped here, catching sight of Gwen, and her face brightened as she turned to her.
'Come in, my dear; we're just two quarrelsome old women, as you know, and Patty, poor thing! is a new hand at illness. 'Tis a bad attack o' cold in the innards—flannelation o' the lung, a neighbour thinks; but she be a contrary patient, and she won't have no doctor.'
Gwen stepped up to the invalid, and looked down with pity upon the thin gaunt frame stretched on the tiny bed. Patty's face was flushed, her lips dry and parched, and her eyes feverishly bright. She seemed very talkative.
'Come in, miss, and welcome. Better in here, where I can see things is what they should be, than out in the kitchen, which to my certain knowledge hasn't been cleaned out proper since I took to bed, and that was week ago yesterday. If I could get better, please God, I never would put off the scrubbin' out o' the cupboards agen. Twas Toosday, the day for to do 'em, and I says to myself, "I seem strangely tired, I'll leave it till tomorrow;" and Wednesday found me in my bed, too bad to move, and the cupboards hasn't had their right chance yet, and Deb she be but a poor cleaner. Ay, dearie me, it'll go hard wi' me if I'm not so much as able to wash myself, and—but there, the good Lord will take me home when it comes to that, for when my cleanin' days be over my livin' days will be over too.'
'Now look here,' said Gwen authoritatively, 'you are talking yourself into a fever. Lie still, take your gruel, and hear me do the talking. Now, Deb, give me the stuff. It looks delicious. I'll turn nurse.'
There was no resisting Gwen. Patty took it from her hands as meekly as a child, and Deb heaved a deep sigh of relief when she saw the last drop swallowed.
''Tis a great gift to be determined in your will,' she said to Gwen. 'Patty never has had any who could master her. We be both so masterful; that is where all the trouble cometh between us.'
'Determination, or, rather, self will, has been my curse,' said Gwen, with a smile and a sigh.
'Now has it now?' said Deb, leaning her bare elbows on the bed rail, and looking at her with interest. 'Folk do say in the village that you met with a deal o' trouble out in them foreign parts, and some haythen rascal robbed you of all you stood up in. When you come to see us after your return, we kept quiet, not likin' to ask; but Patty says to me when you'd a gone, "She's been through a deal o' trouble, for there be hard lines on her face, and a sad ring in her laugh," and we felt mortal sorry for you, my dear.'