Mrs Wishing still gazed without speaking; there was an unearthly flickering light in her eyes. At last she muttered indistinctly:
“You’re just like her.”
Not in the least alarmed or surprised at this condition, Lilac glanced at the teapot and said reproachfully:
“You’ve been drinking poppy tea, and you promised Mother you wouldn’t do it no more.”
Mrs Wishing struggled feebly against the drowsiness which overpowered her, and murmured apologetically:
“I didn’t go to do it, but it seemed as if I couldn’t bear the pain.”
Lilac set down her basket, and opened the door of a cupboard near the chimney corner.
“Where’s your kindlin’s?” she asked. “I’ll make you a cup of real tea, and that’ll waken you up a bit. And Uncle Joshua’s sent you a morsel of chicken.”
“Ha’n’t got no kindlin’s and no tea,” murmured Mrs Wishing. “Give me a drink o’ water from the jug yonder.”
No tea! That was an unheard-of thing. As Lilac brought the water she said indignantly: