of both girls.
They found her busy pastry-making, for the business of the establishment had not been suspended during her recent troubles. She greeted them both hospitably, though not without a hint of reproach, which found expression in words when she had come to the end of a detailed account of the funeral.
"I thought you'd 'a' been round long ago," she said. "Your flowers was lovely, Miss Olga. You ought to 'a' seen 'em a-layin' on pore mother. I made sure as you'd want to. And you too, Miss Violet. I kept the coffin open till the very last minute, thinkin' as you'd come."
"That was very sweet of you, Mrs. Briggs," said Violet. "It was all Dr. Wyndham's fault that we didn't. I'm staying there, you know, and whatever he says is law. I'm sure I don't know why, but there it is."
"Well, there!" said Mrs. Briggs. "I might 'a' known. Pore mother was frit to death o' he. 'There's black magic in 'im' she says to me. It was the day as she was took, too. 'Black magic,' she says. 'I've a-begged 'im to let me die easy, but Lor' bless yer, 'e don't take no more notice than if 'e were the Spink,'" Mrs. Briggs glanced over her shoulder. "But there's one thing as you'll both be glad to know," she said, lowering her voice confidentially, "she died easy, pore soul, in spite of 'im. 'E don't know 'ow that was."
"What?" gasped both girls in a breath.
Mrs. Briggs went to the door, peered out, softly closed it. Her eyes shone craftily as she returned. She took up her rolling-pin, holding it impressively between her floury hands.
"Two days afore pore mother went," she began, with an air of gruesome mystery, "Dr. Wyndham, 'e came and examined 'er, and 'urt 'er cruel, 'e did. I thought 'e'd 'ave killed 'er afore 'e'd finished. Well, just afore 'e left, 'e come to me with a dark blue bottle, and 'e says: 'Look 'ere, Mrs. Briggs, she won't last out the week. She's quiet now,' 'e says, 'for I've given 'er a dose as'll last for some hours. But when that's exhausted,' 'e says, 'the pain'll come back. And so I'm goin' to give you this.' 'E 'olds it up to the light, and looks at it. 'It's good stuff,' 'e says. 'It's warranted to kill pain. But it ain't a thing to play with. You give 'er a teaspoon of it,' 'e says, 'but only if she's took with bad pain. But she mustn't 'ave more than one in twenty-four hours,' 'e says. 'You mind that. And if you 'ave to give it to 'er, you send at once for me. If you don't send,' 'e says, 'I won't be 'eld responsible for the consequences.' With that 'e goes, and pore mother she seemed to take a turn, and all that day and the next she seemed to drowse like and not take much notice o' things. The neighbours come in and look at 'er, but she didn't seem to know. We 'ad two quiet nights with 'er, and then all of a sudden in the middle of the afternoon she started screamin' and writhin.' Oh, lor, Miss Olga, you never see the like. It was just as if she were bein' tortured over a slow fire. Well, Briggs, 'e was fair unmanned by it. 'For 'eaven's sake,' 'e says, 'give 'er the medicine as the doctor left, and I'll go and tell 'im as you've done it.' And off 'e goes, though it was gettin' latish and no one to attend to the bar. Well, I fetched the medicine, and I took it to 'er, and I says, ''Ere you are, mother,' I says, 'you 'ave a dose o' this. It'll kill the pain.' I gave it 'er in a teaspoon like 'e said, and she took it. But there, it didn't make no more difference to 'er than if it 'ad been water.'" Mrs. Briggs heaved a sob, and picked up a corner of her apron to wipe her eyes. "I told 'er as I dursn't give 'er any more because of what the doctor 'ad said, and I said as 'ow Briggs 'ad gone for him, and 'e'd know 'ow to quiet 'er when 'e came. But the very thought of 'im seemed to drive 'er crazy. And then she said that about the black magic, and 'ow 'e'd never be persuaded to let 'er die easy. And then she says to me. 'But you didn't shake the bottle,' she says. 'I expect the stuff that kills the pain is all at the bottom.' And I thought there might be somethin' in it, so I fetched the bottle again and shook it up. And I thought I'd give 'er just 'alf a dose more in case she 'adn't 'ad enough. But just as I was a-goin' to pour it out there was such a rappin' down in the bar, that I 'ad to just give it 'er and run. I was back in under a minute, and there was pore mother a-sittin' up in bed and a-smilin' at me as if all 'er troubles was past, and says she, 'Annie,' she says, 'I've 'ad enough and I don't want no more,' she says; 'it's killed the pain.' And then she laid down in bed still smilin', and says she, 'You tell the doctor when 'e comes as I'm sorry to 'a' fetched 'im for nothin', but I couldn't wait—.' And—if you'll believe me, Miss Olga—those was the last words she spoke." Again vigorously Mrs. Briggs dried her eyes. "She just dropped off to sleep as easy as easy, and I left 'er and went back to the bar. There was a stick by the bedside, and I knew I should 'ear 'er knock if she wanted me. But she didn't knock, and she didn't knock, and I kept thinkin' to myself what a nice sleep she was 'avin', and I wouldn't disturb 'er till the doctor came. And then all of a sudden, it came into my mind to wonder about that there medicine. And I just run up to see. And there I found 'er a-laying' dead, and the stuff in the bottle were 'alf-gone!"
Mrs. Briggs's information was imparted in a whisper and punctuated by sniffs. Her two listeners exchanged awe-stricken glances.
"How did you know she was dead?" asked Violet. "What did she look like?"
"My dear," said Mrs. Briggs, with solemn pride, "anyone as 'as seen death as often as I 'ave don't need to look twice."
Mrs. Briggs occupied the exalted position of layer-out in chief in Brethaven village, and right proud was she of her calling. It had been handed down from mother to daughter in her family for the past four generations. She literally swelled with importance as she resumed her narrative and her pastry-rolling at the same moment.
"Well, there she lay, pore dear, and I saw as the Lord 'ad took 'er right enough, and 'er troubles was well over. But there was this 'ere medicine-bottle, and I 'ad to think pretty quick about that; for just as I picked it up I 'eard the doctor's motor come round the corner. It came to me all in a minute, it did, and I upped with the water-jug and filled it to all but a spoonful of the top. For I knew what 'is first thought would be," said Mrs. Briggs grimly. "And I wasn't minded to let myself in for any questions. Yer see, my dear, 'e'd told me 'isself as the pore creature couldn't last the week. Well, I stuck the bottle on the shelf, and went to meet 'im. 'She's gone, sir,' I says. He come right past me without a word and stoops over the bed. And then, sure enough, quite sharp and sudden says 'e, 'You give 'er the pain-killer?' 'Just as you told me, sir,' I says, and with that I showed 'im the bottle. 'E took it into 'is 'and, and 'e give me a very straight look, and says 'e, frowning, 'Well, she'll never want any more of that.' And 'e just took it straight downstairs and emptied the bottle into the sink."
"He knew!" exclaimed Olga involuntarily.
"Lor' bless yer, no!" Mrs. Briggs's tone held unquestioning conviction. "'E was frownin' to 'isself all the time, and I could see as 'e was pretty mad that 'e'd come too late. I weren't sorry myself," she asserted boldly. "For I'd 'oped against 'ope after 'is last visit that 'e'd never see pore mother again alive. I couldn't 'a' stood it! There, I just couldn't."
Quite unexpectedly Mrs. Briggs suddenly broke down and dropped into a chair. Violet sprang to comfort, while Olga took possession of the rolling-pin and continued the pastry-making with deft hands.
After an interval poor Mrs. Briggs managed to recover somewhat of the hard demeanour that usually characterized her. "I've no call to fret," she said. "And don't you go rubbin' my dirty face with your clean 'andkerchief, Miss Violet. I ain't fit for you to touch, my dear."
"I'm only trying to get off the flour," explained Violet. "But I'm afraid you'll have to wash it after all. It's all gone into paste."
"And there's Miss Olga a-makin' my tarts for me like a ministerin' angel," said Mrs. Briggs, with a watery smile. "It's a pity you couldn't 'a' seen 'er in 'er coffin; for it was a beautiful coffin. Briggs said it was as fine a one as 'e'd seen. Well, well! She's gone, pore soul. And now you young ladies must try some of my rhubarb wine."
She rose briskly, and went to a cupboard. "We drank some of it at the funeral," she said. "And everyone liked
