“Oh dear, oh dear!” said Mrs. Myers.  “Cant you keep her quiet?”

“Arra, how can I kape her quiet, an she cryin an roarin, dyin an desarted?”

“Ask Mrs. Forster to go in and coax her to stop.”

“Mrs. Forsther’s at dhuddher ind o the town.  Whisht!  There she is, callin me.  Youll have to gup to her, maam.  Faith I wont go next or near her.”

“There’s no use in my going up, Eliza.  What can I do?”

Eliza had nothing to suggest.  “I’m sure, maam,” she pleaded, “if she wont mind you, she wont mind me—­bad manners to her!”

Mrs. Myers hesitated.  The lodger became noisier.

“I spose Ive got to go,” said Mrs. Myers, plaintively.  She went upstairs and found Susanna lying on the sofa, groaning, with a dressing-gown and a pair of thick boots on.

“What is the matter with you, Miss Susan?  Youre goin on fit to raise the street.”

“For God’s sake go and get something for me.  Make the doctor do something.  I’m famishing.  I must be poisoned.”

“Lord forbid!”

“Look at me.  I cant eat anything.  Oh!  I cant even drink.  I tell you I am dying of thirst.”

“Well, Miss Susan, thers plenty for you to eat and drink.”

“What is the good of that, when I can neither eat nor drink?  Nothing will stay inside me.  If I could only swallow brandy, I shouldnt care.  I thought I could die drunk.  Oh!  Send Eliza out for some laudanum.  I cant stand this:  I’ll kill myself.”

“Be quiet, Miss Susan:  youll be better presently.  Whats the use of talking-about the doctor?  He says youll not be able to drink for days, and that you will get your health back in consequence.  You are doing yourself no good by screeching like that, and you are ruining me and my house.”

“Your house is all you care about.  Curse you!  I hope you may die deserted yourself.  Dont go away. Dear Aunt Sally, you wont leave me here alone, will you?  If you do, I’ll scream like a hundred devils.”

“I dont know what to do with you,” said Mrs. Myers, crying.  “Youll drive me as mad as yourself.  Why did I ever let you into this house?”

“Oh, bother!  Are you beginning to howl now?  Have you any sardines, or anything spicy?  I think I could eat some salted duck.  No, I couldnt, though.  Go for the doctor.  There must be something that will do me good.  What use is he if he can’t set me right?  All I want is something that will make me able to drink a tumbler of brandy.”

“The Lord help you!  Praise goodness! here’s Mrs. Forster coming up.  Whatll she think of you if you keep moaning like that?  Mrs. Forster:  will you step in here and try to quiet her a bit?  She’s clean mad.”

“Come here,” cried Susanna, as Marian entered.  “Come and sit beside me.  You may get out, you old cat:  I dont want you any longer.”

“Hush, pray,” said Marian, putting her bonnet aside and sitting down by the sofa.  “What is the matter?”