came towards her, creaking the boards beneath him.
"But I'm not able!" she cried, apprehensively clutching the quilt. "Nobody has said nothing against me resting a bit longer, have they?"
"Am I nobody? Have I said nothing?" Suddenly his voice swelled out, bursting from his barrel-like chest and filling the room. "I say now as you've lain long enough. Do you want us to be sacked along o' your laziness? Mrs. Jessop's given me a nasty look already this morning. . . . Come, now," he turned the bed-clothes back off her, "up you gets, and no nonsense."
Queenie tried to cover her mother up again.
"Don'h hurh her, Dahy!" she pleaded.
Charley swept her aside as though she had been one of her own paper dolls. He put his hands under his wife's arms and set her up, another doll, as white as paper. But something in his masterful touch brought the answer of her heart. She raised her eyes to him and smiled.
"Hold me a bit," she said, "I'm dizzy."
He supported her, and, mollified by her submission, said more kindly:
"You don't have to do nothing but sit still. I'll dress you and carry you down. Where's your clothes?"
The underthings were lying handy on the top of the trunk. He bent over her and breathing hard drew the black cotton stockings over the long thin legs. Between them they got her nightdress off; he, breathing still harder, clasped her corsets about her. . . . Encased in her poor armour of the day, Mrs. Bye felt more able to cope with the affairs of life.
She had Charley get a clean print dress for her from the bottom drawer. While he laced her shoes Queenie passed the stubby hair-brush over her hair, peeking round in her face to ask:
