"
"No, I'll be glad of your company. I'll get you some tea presently."
"I could not touch anything. Oh, this is dreadful!" she exclaimed, and she
walked to and fro holding her sides, balancing herself dolefully. Often
Mrs. Jones stopped in her work about the range and said, looking at her,
"I know what it is, I have been through it many a time--we all must--it is
our earthly lot." About seven o'clock Esther was clinging to the table,
and with pain so vivid on her face that Mrs. Jones laid aside the sausages
she was cooking and approached the suffering girl.
"What! is it so bad as all that?"
"Oh," she said, "I think I'm dying, I cannot stand up; give me a chair,
give me a chair!" and she sank down upon it, leaning across the table, her
face and neck bathed in a cold sweat.
"John will have to get his supper himself; I'll leave these sausages on
the hob, and run upstairs and put on my bonnet. The things you intend to
bring with you, the baby clothes, are made up in a bundle, aren't they?"
"Yes, yes."
Little Mrs. Jones came running down; she threw a shawl over Esther, and it
was astonishing what support she lent to the suffering girl, calling on
her the whole time to lean on her and not to be afraid. "Now then, dear,
you must keep your heart up, we have only a few yards further to go.
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