his window was exhibited a card which stated that a certain medical man could be consulted here daily. The said medical man had, in fact, so much more business than he could attend to—his name appearing in many shops—that the druggist was deputed to act as his assistant, and was considerately supplied with death- certificates, already signed, and only needing to be filled in with details. Summoned by Mrs. Peckover, whose old acquaintance he was, the druggist left the shop in care of his son, aged fifteen, and sped to Clerkenwell Close. He made light of Jane's ailment. "A little fever, that was all—soon pull her round. Any wounds, by the bye? No? Oh, soon pull her round. Send for medicines."
"We'll have her down in the back-kitchen as soon as the corffin's away," said Mrs. Peckover to Mrs. Hewett. "Don't you upset yerself about it, my dear; you've got quite enough to think about, Yer. 'usband got anythink yet? Dear, dear! Don't you put yerself out. I'm sure it was a great kind-
