"But I must mention it because I feel so very, very grateful," Mrs. Renford said, smiling. "God bless you. You have proved yourself a neighbour indeed."
Mrs. M'Cosh's colour deepened till it was the hue of a peony. Her eyes wandered from the sick woman's face to the slender, white fingers which played nervously with the coverlet, and with a gesture which was wholly womanly and kind, she covered them with her large hand as she asked—
"What have you had for breakfast?"
"A cup of tea. I could eat nothing—I have no appetite. But I do not think I am worse to-day, I feel in better spirits. Do you know, I think your goodness has cheered me up? We are so alone—Felicia and I."
"Isn't there anyone you could send for?" Mrs. M'Cosh inquired. "Have you no relations?"
"None of my own. I never knew either father or mother; I was brought up in London by a French lady, a Miss de Musset—one of the best women that ever lived! I was always very musical, and as I grew up it was discovered that I had a beautiful voice which I was so fortunate as to have well trained. I worked hard, and, in due course, I set up as a music and singing mistress. I gave up my work when I married; but when my husband died soon after Felicia was born, I took it up again and earned a good living for myself and my child till a little over two years ago. Then I had a most serious illness. I caught typhoid fever, and lay for a long while at death's door; I lost my beautiful voice and was partially paralysed for many months."
"Dear, dear!" said Mrs. M'Cosh commiseratingly; "that was the beginning of your troubles, I suppose?"
"Yes. When I was well enough to work again, I realised that my career as a music and singing mistress was at an end. I have never regained my voice, but the paralysis left me after a while and I could use my hands for sewing. By that time the little money I'd saved had all been spent; and I didn't know what to do."
"What made you come to Bristol?"
"I knew the forewoman of a factory here, and she promised me work. She kept her word, but the work was too trying for me. I could not do it, and—it's so easy to go downhill—"