“Quite so; and that 's just what I said to her. 'Take your holiday, Grant, and we'll worry on somehow,' but she wouldn't go. We thought it so pretty of her, for servants are generally so selfish; and she really did wonderfully, as much as three women, do you know?”
“If it wudna hurry ye, wud ye tell me her address in London?”
“Of course; I 'm coming to that, but I felt you would like to hear all about her, for we had a great idea of Grant. It was a cold it began with, and one day I heard her coughing, and told her she must positively see a doctor; but Grant was very obstinate at times, and she never went.”
“It's possible that she didna ken ane. An' what cam o' her cough?”
“It was too dreadful, and they ought not to have taken me to the room. I could not sleep all night. Grant had broken a blood-vessel, and they thought she was dying.”
“Is Lily deid?” demanded Jamie.
“Oh no; how could you fancy such a thing? But our doctor said it was a very bad case, and that she could not live above a week. We were desolated to part with her, but of course she could not remain,—I mean, we knew she would receive more attention in a hospital. So you understand——”
“A' dae,” broke in Jamie, “fine; Lily workit for you an' yir bairns in a time o' need till a' the strength she brocht wi' her wes gane, an' then, when she wes like tae dee, ye turned her oot as ye wudna hae dune wi' ane o' yir horses. Ye 've a graund hoose an' cairry a high heid, but ye 've a puir, meeserable cratur, no worthy to be compared wi' the lass ye hev dune tae deith.”
“You have no right——” but Jamie's eyes went through her and she fell away; “she can—have her wages for—two months.”
“No one penny o' yir siller wull she touch beyond her lawful due; gie me the name o' the hospital, an' a 'll tak care o' oor puir lass ma-sel.”