"I was afraid that he was worse."
"He'll be worse before he's any better, I'm thinking," said the girl.
"You think he will die?"
"I don't know anything about it. It's nothing to me—only I found her crying to-day on the stairs—not liking, maybe, to let him see her fret."
"His wife? And you were sorry for her?"
"She would not have cared for my pity, however much I had felt," replied Kate. "But I won't keep you, sir. You can help them a bit, perhaps."
"And you—is there nothing that I can do for you?"
"Nothing; thank you kindly," added the girl, after a pause, and moving away as she spoke.
"One moment," said Marshall, stepping inside the door, which was generally left open until late for the convenience of the numerous dwellers in that large gloomy house. "You will be wet through if you stand there."
"It won't be the first time by many if I am," answered Kate, recklessly.