“Mrs. Winburn is ill, isn’t she?” asked Tom, after looking his guide over.

“Ees, her be—terrible bad,” said the constable.

“What is the matter with her, do you know?”

“Zummat o’ fits, I hears. Her’ve had ’em this six year, on and off.”

“I suppose it’s dangerous. I mean she isn’t likely to get well?”

“’Tis in the Lord’s hands,” replied the constable, “but her’s that bad wi’ pain, at times, ’twould be a mussy if ’twoud plaase He to tak’ her out on’t.”

“Perhaps she mightn’t think so,” said Tom, superciliously; he was not in the mind to agree with any one. The constable looked at him solemnly for a moment and then said:

“Her’s been a God-fearin’ woman from her youth up, an............