Jane's old shawl across her feet. The Flower Charity (Heaven bless it!)
had half covered the old shawl with silver bells, and solemn green
shadows, like the shadows of church towers. And it was a comfort to know
that these were the only bells which tolled for the Lady of Shalott, and
that no other church shadow fell upon her burial.

"Gentlemen," said the Hospital doctor, "we're too late, I see. But you'd
better go on."

The gentlemen of the Board of Health went on; and the Lady of Shalott
went on.

The Lady of Shalott went out into the cart that had carried away the
monkeys from the spring-box, and the purple wing lifted to let her pass;
and fell again, as if it had brushed her away.

The Board of Health went up the precipice, and stood by the window out
of which the Lady of Shalott had never looked.

They sent orders to the scavenger, and orders to the Water Board, and
how many other orders nobody knows; and they sprinkled themselves with
camphor, and they went their ways.

And the board that had the right of way went its way, too. And Sary Jane
folded up the shawl, which she could not afford to lose, and came home,
and made nankeen vests at sixteen and three quarters cents a dozen in
the window out of which the Lady of Shalott had never looked.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *