“I went up and let him in, and he looked at me so strange.
“‘What is it?’ he said; ‘your master?’
“‘Yes, sir,’ I says, ‘and I was to show you in as soon as you came.’
“He nodded, and went up at once, neither of us saying another word. Then he went in through the door gently, and came out again, looking horribly shocked.
“‘When did you find him?’ he says; and I told him. ‘Poor fellow!’ he says, ‘I am not surprised. Sarah Plant, you must go and tell the police;’ and I did, and there was an inquest, and at last the poor old master was to be buried, with only Mr Garstang to follow him, for he had no relations or friends.
“I sat in my bit of noo black, and Becky just opposite me, waiting while they’d gone to the cemetery, for no one asked me to go, and I sat there looking at Becky, who began crying as she heard them carrying the coffin downstairs and never stopped all that time. And I thought to myself, ‘We two will have to go out into the world, and nobody won’t take us with poor Becky like that;’ and my heart was so full, miss—ma’am, that I began to cry, too; but I’m afraid it was for myself, not for poor master. Last of all, the carriage came back, and I let Mr Garstang in, looking terribly cut up.
“‘Bring me a little tea, Sarah,’ he says, and I went and got it, and had a cup, too, wanting it as I did badly, and by-and-by he rung for me to fetch the tray.
“I got to the door with it, when he calls me back.
“‘Sarah,’ he says, ‘your poor master has no relations left, and by the papers I hold, everything comes to me.’
“‘Yes, sir; so I s’posed,’ I says to him, ‘and you want me and Becky to go at once.’