Hetty slept fairly well. I sat broad awake by her bedside. I was too
young, too fresh, too strong to be exhausted by this evening's
excitement and hurry. I was not tired enough to drop asleep in the hard
chair by my sister's bedside. My pulses were beating high. I sat all
through the long night, excited, anxious, full of a thousand forebodings
and troubles. I gave my patient Brand's jelly and grapes when she woke
in the night, and early in the morning I boiled an egg, made some crisp
toast, and a teapot of fragrant tea, and gave Hetty her breakfast.
Afterwards I washed and dressed her; I combed out her hair, and tied it
into a soft mass. I straightened the bed, and made it look as tidy as
such a miserable bed could be, and then putting some grapes within
reach, and the flowers on a little table, where she could look at them,
I ran down-stairs to interview the landlady.
"I am glad to tell you," I said, "that my sister seems much better this
morning."
"Oh, ay, miss, I'm sure I'm pleased to hear it." The landlady was all
beams and curtsies. "I always said, pore dear, that it was care she
wanted--and all I could I give her, as Mr Gray can testify; but when a
woman has got to 'arn her living 'ard, she has no power to spend much
time a-cookin', and a-cleanin', and a-nursin', and a-messin'. It's
always a-nursin' and a-messin' with the sick, and I han't got the time,
so I'm glad you has come in, miss."
"Yes, but I must go away for some hours," I said, "and I want my sister
to be taken all possible care of in my absence. Will you do that for
me, Mrs Ashton? I will come back as early in the afternoon as I can."
"To be sure I will, my dear."
"Here is a piece of paper on which I have written what she is to eat,
and how often she is to be fed."
"Well, dear, I'll do my 'umble best. I'm not good at readin' and
writin', but Mary Ann in the kitchen can spell out what you has writ
down, miss, I make no doubt."