from your poor aunt. I must have dropped asleep, miss, in my chair, and I
woke up with a start like, and the kitchen clock was near on one. Thinks
I, perhaps Miss Carlotta's been knocking and ringing all this time and me
not heard, and I rushes to the front door. But of course you weren't
there. The porch was nothing but a pool o' water. I says to myself she's
stopping somewhere, I says. And I felt it was my duty to go and tell your
aunt, whether she was asleep or whether she wasn't asleep.... Well, and
there she was, miss, with her eyes closed, and as soft as a child. I
spoke to her, loud, more than once. "Miss Carlotta a'n't come," I says.
"Miss Carlotta a'n't come, ma'am," I says. She never stirred. Thinks I,
this is queer this is. And I goes up to her and touches her. Chilly! Then
I takes the liberty of pushing back your poor aunt's eyelids, and I could
but see the whites of her eyes; the eyeballs was gone up, and a bit
outwards. Yes; and her poor dear chin was dropped. Thinks I, here's
trouble, and Miss Carlotta at the concert. I runs to our bedroom, and I
tells Lucy to put a cloak on and fetch Dr. Roycroft. "Who for?" she says.
"Never you mind who for!" I says, says I. "You up and quick. But you can
tell the doctor it's missis as is took." And in ten minutes he was here,
miss. But it's only across the garden, like. "Yes," he said, "she's been
dead an hour or more. Failure of the heart's action," he said. "She died
in her sleep," he said. "Thank God she died in her sleep if she was to
die, the pure angel!" I says. I told the doctor as you were away for the
night, miss. And I laid her out, miss, and your poor auntie wasn't my
first, either. I've seen trouble--I've--'

And Rebecca's tears overcame her voice.

'I'll go upstairs with you, miss,' she struggled out.

One thought that flew across my mind was that Doctor Roycroft was very