He passed the village green with its pond, and began to climb a lane leading to the hill. Half-way up stood two cottages sideways. Phloxes and marigolds grew untidily about their doorways, and straggly roses, starved a little by the chalk soil, looked in at their latticed windows. They were, however, comparatively modern and comfortable, with two bedrooms above and two living-rooms below, far superior to the older and more picturesque cottages in the main street.
John went in softly, put down his straw dinner-bag, and took off his heavy boots. Then he opened a door in the wall of the kitchen, and gently climbed the stairs.
A girl was sitting by the bed. When she saw his whitish head and red face emerge against the darkness of the stair-hole, she put up her finger for silence.
John crept in and came to look at the patient. His eyes grew round and staring, his colour changed.
"Is she a-goin'?" he said, with evident excitement.
Jim's Louisa shook her head. She was rather a stupid girl, heavy and round-faced, but she had nursed her grandmother well.
"No; she's asleep. Muster Drew's been here, and she dropped off while he was a-talkin' to her."
Mr. Drew was the Congregational minister.
"Did she send for him?"
"Yes; she said she felt her feet a-gettin' cold, and I must run. But I don't believe she's no worse."