“What do they all live upon?”
“Goodness knows. Upon things that he pledges, and the vegetables in the garden. I was in there last night, and I can tell you it was a picture, Mr. Johnny Ludlow.”
“A picture of what?”
“Misery: distress: hopelessness. It is several weeks now since Lee earned anything, and they have been all that time upon short commons. Some days on no commons at all, I expect.”
“But what took you there?”
“I heard such an account of the girl—Mamie—yesterday afternoon, of her cough and her weakness, that I thought I’d see if any of my drugs would do her good. But it’s food they all want.”
“Is Mamie very ill?”
“Very ill indeed. I’m not sure but she’s dying.”
“It is a dreadful thing.”
“One can’t ask too many professional questions—people are down upon you for that before you have passed,” resumed Ben, alluding to his not being qualified. “But I sent her in a cordial or two, and I spoke to Darbyshire; so perhaps he will look in upon her to-day.”