"Doesn't seem to have any."
"The best thing he could do would be to get into a hospital."
"Yes, I suppose so. I really wish he would, for that cough quite wears on me."
"I know some one who subscribes to the Warley Hospital: I could get him an in-letter for there, I feel sure, if he would care to go."
"Do you really!"—quite eagerly. "I should be glad if he could be got there! I shouldn't like to tell him to go, it would seem cruel, but I'm sure I can't stand that cough much longer."
"Well, go up at once and ask him," suggested Bessie.
"I will, there can be no harm in that," and away Mrs. Coates went.
There was quite a different look on her face when she returned.
"No, he won't go," shaking her head, "couldn't move him!—says that when his money's all gone, he'll go into the workhouse; I needn't be frightened about being kept out of my money—as if I was thinking of that! But there, that's all I get for all my trouble! You might give your life for some folks, and they wouldn't give you even a nod in return, not they!" Mrs. Coates was evidently feeling very annoyed.
"Yes," exclaimed Bessie, "he's just one of that sort"—and then suddenly added, "at least, I should think so, from what you say."