“_I_ got enough lef’ to last me all _my_ days on earth. It come about through our charwoman’s liddle girl--Sophy Ellis was ’er name--all eyes an’ elbers an’ hunger. I used to give ’er vittles. Otherwhiles, I took no special notice of ’er, an’ a sight less, o’ course, when me trouble about ’Arry was on me. But--you know how liddle maids first feel it sometimes--she come to be crazy-fond o’ me, pawin’ an’ cuddlin’ all whiles; an’ I ’adn’t the ’eart to beat ’er off.... One afternoon, early in spring ’twas, ’er mother ’ad sent ’er round to scutchel up what vittles she could off of us. I was settin’ by the fire, me apern over me head, half-mad with the ’eddick, when she slips in. I reckon I was middlin’ short with ’er. ‘Lor’!’ she says. ‘Is _that_ all? I’ll take it off you in two-twos!’ I told her not to lay a finger on me, for I thought she’d want to stroke my forehead; an’--I ain’t that make. ‘_I_ won’t tech ye,’ she says, an’ slips out again. She ’adn’t been gone ten minutes ’fore me old ’eddick took off quick as bein’ kicked. So I went about my work. Prasin’ly, Sophy comes back, an’ creeps into my chair quiet as a mouse. ’Er eyes was deep in ’er ’ead an’ ’er face all drawed. I asked ’er what ’ad ’appened. ‘Nothin’,’ she says. ‘On’y _I_’ve got it now.’ ‘Got what?’ I says. ‘Your ’eddick,’ she says, all hoarse an’ sticky-lipped. ‘I’ve took it on me.’ ‘Nonsense,’ I says, ‘it went of itself when you was out. Lay still an’ I’ll make ye a cup o’ tea.’ ‘’Twon’t do no good,’ she says, ‘’til your time’s up. ’Ow long do _your_ ’eddicks last?’ ‘Don’t talk silly,’ I says, ‘or I’ll send for the Doctor.’ It looked to me like she might be hatchin’ de measles. ‘Oh, Mrs. Ashcroft,’ she says, stretchin’ out ’er liddle thin arms. ‘I _do_ love ye.’ There wasn’t any holdin’ agin that. I took ’er into me lap an’ made much of ’er. ‘Is it truly gone?’ she says. ‘Yes,’ I says, ‘an’ if ’twas you took it away, I’m truly grateful.’ ‘_’Twas_ me,’ she says, layin’ ’er cheek to mine. ‘No one but me knows how.’ An’ then she said she’d changed me ’eddick for me at a Wish ’Ouse.” “Whatt?” Mrs. Fettley spoke sharply. “A Wish ’Ouse. No! _I_ ’adn’t ’eard o’ such things, either. I couldn’t get it straight at first, but, puttin’ all together, I made out that a Wish ’Ouse ’ad to be a house which ’ad stood unlet an’ empty long enough for Some One, like, to come an’ in’abit there. She said, a liddle girl that she’d played with in the livery-stables where ’Arry worked ’ad told ’er so. She said the girl ’ad belonged in a caravan that laid up, o’ winters, in Lunnon. Gipsy, I judge.” “Ooh! There’s no sayin’ what Gippos know, but _I_’ve never ’eard of a Wish ’Ouse, an’ I know--some things,” said Mrs. Fettley.