'I only ran in to tell you poor Jane's down
again with rheumatic fever.'
Mrs. Mutimer was holding the frying-pan over the fire, turning the
contents over and over with a knife.
'You don't mean that!' she exclaimed, looking over her shoulder.
'Why, it's the fifth time, ain't it?'
'It is indeed, and worse to get through every time. We didn't expect
she'd ever be able to walk again last autumn.'
'Dear, dear! what a thing them rheumatics is, to be sure! And you've
heard about Dick, haven't you?'
'Heard what?'
'Oh, I thought maybe it had got to you. He's lost his work, that's
all.'
'Lost his work?' the girl repeated, with dismay. 'Why?'
'Why? What else had he to expect? 'Tain't likely they'll keep a man
as goes about making all his mates discontented and calling his
employers names at every street corner. I've been looking for it
every week. Yesterday one of the guvnors calls him up and tells
him--just in a few civil words--as perhaps it 'ud be better for all
parties if he'd find a place where he was more satisfied. "Well an'
good," says Dick--you know his way--and there he is.'
The girl had seated herself, and listened to this story with
downcast eyes. Courage seemed to fail her; she drew a long, quiet
sigh. Her face was of the kind that expresses much sweetness in
irregular features.
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