Mrs. Gass paused, and began to go over those intentions, with a view, possibly, to seeing whether she was very much to blame.
"Finding Oliver and his wife couldn't get the tontine money paid to them--and a hard case it was!--I had it in my mind to say, 'I'll advance it to you. You'll both be the better for something in my will when I'm gone--the doctor being my late husband's own nephew, and the nearest relation left of him--and if two thousand pounds of it will be of real good to you now, you shall have it. But I didn't say it at once--who was to suppose there was such need for hurry--and then she died. If the man's innocent--and I believe he is--that Jelly ought to have her mouth sewn up for good. She---- Why, there you are! Talk of the dickens and he's sure to appear."
"Were you talking of me?" asked Jelly: for Mrs. Gass had raised her voice with surprise and brought it within Jelly's hearing. She carried a small basket on her arm, under her black shawl, and turned to the window.
"I was thinking of you," responded Mrs. Gass. "Be you come out marketing?"
"I'm taking a few scraps to Ketler's," replied Jelly, just showing the basket. "My mistress has given me general leave to give them any trifles not likely to be wanted at home. The cook's good-natured too. This is a jar of dripping, and some bones and bread."
"And how do you like the Beverages, Jelly?"
"Oh, very well. They are good ladies; but so serious and particular."
Mrs. Gass rose from her seat, pushed the geraniums aside, and leaning her arms upon the window-sill, brought her good-natured red face very near to Jelly's bonnet.
"I'll tell you what I was thinking of, girl: it was about these awful whispers that's flying round. Go where you will, you may hear 'em. Within dwelling-houses or at street corners, people's tongues are cackling secretly about Dr. Rane's wife, and asking what she died of. I knew it would be so, Jelly."
Jelly turned a little paler. "They'll die away again, perhaps," she said.