by L. T. Meade
credit to you in theuniform, instead of going about the outlandish guy she is, in thatflashy apron and turban."
"The prettiest bit of a wild flower in Lunnon for all that," murmuredNat under his breath. His honest eyes glowed with admiration. Jillsmiled up at him.
She went into the other room to fetch her despised turban, which shetied under her chin, instead of coiling it as usual round her head.
"You'll wait till we come back, Susy," said her brother. She noddedacquiescence, and proceeded to give enlarged editions of her views onvarious matters to poor Poll. The boys lounged about for a little, thenwent out.
Susy helped Poll to wash up the supper things, and then she drew in herchair close to the little stove, glad, warm as the evening was, to toasther toes, and quite inclined to pour some more of her wisdom over Poll'sdevoted head.
Mrs Robinson, however, had a knack of shutting up her ears when she didnot care to listen. She sat now well forward on her seat, her big handsfolded on her knee, her large black eyes gazing through Susy atsomething else--at a picture which filled her soul with sullen pain.
Susy expatiated on the delights of the Flower Girls' Guild, on theadvantages of the neat uniform, on the money-profit which must surelyarise by keeping flowers in the room provided by the Guild all night.Susy was intent on proselytising. If she could only get Mrs Robinsonand Jill to join the Guild she felt that her evening's work would not bein vain.
Poll sat mute as if she were taking in every word. Suddenly she spoke.
"What are you staying on for, Susy Carter?"
Susy, drawn up short, replied with almost hesitation--
"Nat told me to wait for him. But I can go," she added a littlestiffly, "ef I'm in the way. I ain't one to stay loitering round in anyroom ef I'm not wanted."
"You ain't wanted here," said Poll. "It's weary waiting for folks ashas gone lovering, and besides I must go out myself at once."
Susy got up and said good-bye. Poll took her hand, looked into herbright blue eyes and spoke--
"You has given me a power of advice this night, my gel."
"Yes; oh, if you would think it all over."
"I'm obleeged to yer, but I must own that I didn't catch on to many ofyer words. I had a power of thinking to do on my own account. StillI'd like to pay yer back in yer own coin."
"What do you mean, Mrs Robinson?"
"This is what I mean. Here's a bit of advice for you. Leave that youngman yer brother and that young gel my daughter to themselves when theyare wedded. Don't make nor meddle with them, or you'll be doing amischief. Now good-night."
Susy went away, and Poll shut the door after her with a sort of viciousgood-will.
"I can't abear her," she muttered. "Ef Nat were her sort he shouldn'thave Jill."
Poll stood quiet for a moment, thinking hard. Then with a queer trembleabout her full red lips she went into the little bedroom, took down agaily-coloured shawl from its peg, wrapped it about her person, and wentout, putting the key of the little flat into her pocket.
"I can't abear it," she murmured, as she went down the stairs. "I hasstood up agen it all day long, and now, though it's the night when thechild gives herself to another, though it's the night when my Jill--thebest gel in Christendom--ought to be happy, and shall be happy, still, Imust get something to dull the bitter pain. Jest twopenn'orth of gin'ot, just twopenn'orth, and then I'll be better." Poll found herself inthe street. She began to walk quickly along the gaily lighted pavement.Her pain, bad and terrible as it was, did not interfere with her free,almost grand movement. She would soon reach the public-house, andtwopennyworth of gin, the money for which she held in her hand, wouldbring a certain deadness of sensation which was the unhappy woman's onlymeasure of relief. She walked on fast, her desire for the stimulantgrowing fiercer and fiercer, her wish to spare Jill's feelings on thisnight of all nights less and less.
A little mob of people blocked up the pavement. They were standing infront of a chemist's shop, and were looking eagerly into the shopthrough the brilliantly lighted windows.
"What is it?" said Poll, her attention arrested by the eager, excitedlooks of the crowd.
A woman came up and touched her on the arm.
"It's me, Poll," said Betsy Peters. "I has sold all the poppies. I hada power of luck with 'em. Yere's your shilling back agen, and may thegood Lord above reward you."
"I don't want the shilling. Keep it, neighbour," said Poll. "Ef youhad luck, it's more nor I had; but you keep your luck, I don't want itoff yer."
"There it is again," said Betsy Peters. "Worn't I prayin' for money tobuy some of the medicine for little Jeanie? And there, you has gone andgive it to me."
"Wot medicine?" asked Poll.
"Stuff they sells in yere. There's a sort of a doctor keeps this shop,and he has made pints of some powerful stuff, and he sells it off inbottles. It's warranted to cure colds and brownchitis and pains in the'ead, and bad legs, and pains of all sorts whatever. Little Jeanie hasturned that pettish after the brownchitis that I thought I'd get abottle to brisk her up a bit. It's powerful 'ot, strong stuff, and theysay, folks as tried it, that it seems to go straight to the vitals, andlifts you up so as you don't know yourself."
"And stops pain? Do they say that?" asked Poll.
"Sartin sure. It's a kind of an ease-all, that's the right name forit."
Poll looked into the palm of her hand, which contained the solitarytwopence.
"How much do the stuff cost?" she asked.
"You get a big bottle for sixpence. It's dirt cheap, dirt cheap."
"You're sure as it ain't pizen?"
"Rayther. Didn't Mary Ann Jones in the court take it, and Peter Samson,and a score more? It's fine stuff, strengthening and good. What is it,neighbour? You look white. Ain't you well?"
"I has a bit of a pain, Betsy. A bit of a grip just under my leftbreast. Oh, it ain't nothing; but I has a mind to try the medicine asdulls pain. It don't seem to take you off yer 'ead, like sperits, forinstance?"
"No, no. You get a bit drowsy, and that's about all."
"Well, I have a mind to try it. I'm sorry, neighbour, but I must askyou to give me fourpence back out of that shilling; I'll pay yer backto-morrow in the market."
"Oh, neighbour, it's all yourn," said poor Betsy.
"No, it ain't, not a bit on it. Come into the shop with me, and we'llget a bottle each of the stuff."
The two women pushed their way to the front, and soon entered the shopthrough the swinging glass doors. It was very hot inside, for the placewas brilliantly lit with gas, and there was no proper ventilation. Amass of people were standing four deep round the counter, all waitingtheir turn to be supplied with the wonderful medicine.
The chemist, a pale man, with bright, wonderful keen eyes, was handingbottle after bottle of the comforting stuff across the counter. Manysixpences were passed across to him in return; he dropped them into theopen till by his side.
The sudden heat and closeness of the shop, after the outside air, provedtoo much for Poll. She was weak after her day of suffering, and itsuddenly seemed to her that the shop reeled, that the gas came down andblinded her, that the floor rose up to smite her in the face. Her blackeyes looked vaguely across the world of confusion in which she foundherself, then all consciousness left her.
CHAPTER SIX.
It seemed but a moment later that Poll opened her eyes, to find herselflying on a hard horse-hair sofa close to an open window. The chemistwas bending over her, holding her wrist between his finger and thumb,and looking into her face with professional interest.
"Ah, that's nice," he said, "you are better now; you'll do fine, ifyou'll just lie still for a minute or two. Take a sip of this water.It was the close air of the shop. You are much too ill to be goingabout in this fashion, you know."
Poll put her hand to her forehead, gave the chemist a dazed glance, sawMrs Peters winding in the background, and struggled to her feet.
"Stay still, you ar
e not fit to move yet," repeated the chemist. "Thiswoman--she is your friend, I suppose?--will look after you, while I goback to attend to my customers. I'm going to shut up shop in a moment,and then I shall return to you. I want to speak to you before you go."
He left the little room, and Betsy Peters, who had been crying, came upto Poll. "My poor dear," she said.
"I'm weak yet," said Poll. "I suppose I fainted. I never did that sortof thing before." Then she glanced down at the front of her
