“Who are they? And why can’t they come?” asked Augusta.
“Because of the sickness, miss.”
“Sickness!” said Augusta, at once on the alert. “Is any one ill?”
“Three cases of smallpox in the village, miss. But the sick people is took to the hospital—two in Gaffer Jones’s house, and one in Tilbury’s—three in all. It do seem sad about that poor, handsome young lady.”
“Miss Aspray, do you mean?” said Augusta, whose face had now turned deadly white.
“Yes, miss—of course.”
“She is not dead?”
“No, no, miss. How bad you look! But she is likely to be afore long. There! I won’t talk to you no more, miss, if I can’t do nothing for you; but if you would like a cup of tea”——
“No; leave me, please, Jane. All I want is to be quiet.”
Jane withdrew, and Augusta flung herself once more on her bed and covered her head.