“Your master is a foreigner,” says Mr. Goodricke, when my mistress had left us.  “Does he understand about registering the death?” “I can’t rightly tell, sir,” says I, “but I should think not.”  The doctor considered a minute, and then says he, “I don’t usually do such things,” says he, “but it may save the family trouble in this case if I register the death myself.  I shall pass the district office in half an hour’s time, and I can easily look in.  Mention, if you please, that I will do so.”  “Yes, sir,” says I, “with thanks, I’m sure, for your kindness in thinking of it.”  “You don’t mind staying here till I can send you the proper person?” says he.  “No, sir,” says I; “I’ll stay with the poor lady till then.  I suppose nothing more could be done, sir, than was done?” says I.  “No,” says he, “nothing; she must have suffered sadly before ever I saw her—­the case was hopeless when I was called in.”  “Ah, dear me! we all come to it, sooner or later, don’t we, sir?” says I. He gave no answer to that—­he didn’t seem to care about talking.  He said, “Good-day,” and went out.

I stopped by the bedside from that time till the time when Mr. Goodricke sent the person in, as he had promised.  She was, by name, Jane Gould.  I considered her to be a respectable-looking woman.  She made no remark, except to say that she understood what was wanted of her, and that she had winded a many of them in her time.

How master bore the news, when he first heard it, is more than I can tell, not having been present.  When I did see him he looked awfully overcome by it, to be sure.  He sat quiet in a corner, with his fat hands hanging over his thick knees, and his head down, and his eyes looking at nothing.  He seemed not so much sorry, as scared and dazed like, by what had happened.  My mistress managed all that was to be done about the funeral.  It must have cost a sight of money—­the coffin, in particular, being most beautiful.  The dead lady’s husband was away, as we heard, in foreign parts.  But my mistress (being her aunt) settled it with her friends in the country (Cumberland, I think) that she should be buried there, in the same grave along with her mother.  Everything was done handsomely, in respect of the funeral, I say again, and master went down to attend the burying in the country himself.  He looked grand in his deep mourning, with his big solemn face, and his slow walk, and his broad hatband—­that he did!

In conclusion.  I have to say, in answer to questions put to me—­

(1) That neither I nor my fellow-servant ever saw my master give Lady Glyde any medicine himself.

(2) That he was never, to my knowledge and belief, left alone in the room with Lady Glyde.

(3) That I am not able to say what caused the sudden fright, which my mistress informed me had seized the lady on her first coming into the house.  The cause was never explained, either to me or to my fellow-servant.