“I only ’eard of it half an hour ago,” she said, reproachfully.  “I saw the doctor’s boy, and I left my work and came over at once.  Why didn’t you let me know?”

Mr. Wilks muttered that he didn’t know, and lay crossly regarding his attentive neighbour as she knelt down and daintily lit the fire.  This task finished, she proceeded to make the room tidy, and then set about making beef-tea in a little saucepan.

“You lay still and get well,” she remarked, with tender playfulness.  “That’s all you’ve got to do.  Me and Teddy’ll look after you.”

“I couldn’t think of troubling you,” said the steward, earnestly.

“It’s no trouble,” was the reply.  “You don’t think I’d leave you here alone helpless, do you?”

“I was going to send for old Mrs. Jackson if I didn’t get well to-day,” said Mr. Wilks.

Mrs. Silk shook her head at him, and, after punching up his pillow, took an easy chair by the fire and sat there musing.  Mr. Edward Silk came in to tea, and, after remarking that Mr. Wilks was very flushed and had got a nasty look about the eyes and a cough which he didn’t like, fell to discoursing on death-beds.

“Good nursing is the principal thing,” said his mother.  “I nursed my pore dear ’usband all through his last illness.  He couldn’t bear me to be out of the room.  I nursed my mother right up to the last, and your pore Aunt Jane went off in my arms.”

Mr. Wilks raised himself on his elbow and his eyes shone feverishly in the lamplight.  “I think I’ll get a ’ospital nurse to-morrow,” he said, decidedly.

“Nonsense,” said Mrs. Silk.  “It’s no trouble to me at all.  I like nursing; always did.”

Mr. Wilks lay back again and, closing his eyes, determined to ask the doctor to provide a duly qualified nurse on the morrow.  To his disappointment, however, the doctor failed to come, and although he felt much better Mrs. Silk sternly negatived a desire on his part to get up.

“Not till the doctor’s been,” she said, firmly.  “I couldn’t think of it.”

“I don’t believe there’s anything the matter with me now,” he declared.

“’Ow odd—­’ow very odd that you should say that!” said Mrs. Silk, clasping her hands.

“Odd!” repeated the steward, somewhat crustily.  “How do you mean—­odd?”

“They was the very last words my Uncle Benjamin ever uttered in this life,” said Mrs. Silk, with dramatic impressiveness.

The steward was silent, then, with the ominous precedent of Uncle Benjamin before him, he began to talk until scores of words stood between himself and a similar ending.

“Teddy asked to be remembered to you as ’e went off this morning,” said Mrs. Silk, pausing in her labours at the grate.

“I’m much obliged,” muttered the invalid.

“He didn’t ’ave time to come in,” pursued the widow.  “You can ’ardly believe what a lot ’e thinks of you, Mr. Wilks.  The last words he said to me was, ‘Let me know at once if there’s any change.’”