Mrs. Macbean's face wore an important look, as she said with a sort of melancholy satisfaction, "Yes, she's ill, Mrs. Thomson, and likely to be ill for a long time. And you wouldn't believe how simply it began. She was in at Pettigrew & Stephens', or it might have been Copland & Lye's; anyway, it was one of the Sauchiehall Street shops, and she was coming down the stairs quite quietly--Maggie was with her--when one of the young gentlemen shop-walkers came up the stairs in a kinda hurry, and whether he pushed against Phemie, I don't know, and Maggie can't be sure; anyway, she slipped. She didn't fall, you know, or anything like that, but in saving herself she must have given herself a twist--for I'll tell you what happened." There was something strangely appetising in Mrs. Macbean as a talker: she somehow managed to make her listeners hungry for more. "Well, she didn't say much about it at the time. Just when she came in she said, joky-like, 'I nearly fell down the stairs in a shop to-day, Mother, and I gave myself quite a twist.' That was all she said, and Maggie passed some remark about the gentleman in the shop being in a hurry, and I thought no more about it. But about a week later Phemie says to me, 'D'ye know,' she says, 'I've got a sort of pain, nothing much, but it keeps there.' You may be sure I got the doctor quick, for I'm niver one that would lichtly a pain, as ye might say, but he couldn't find anything wrong. But the girl was niver well, and he said perhaps it would be as well to see a specialist. And I said, 'Certainly, doctor, you find out the best man and Mr. Macbean won't grudge the money, for he thinks the world of his girls.' So Dr. Rankine made arrangements, and we went to see Sir Angus Johnston, a real swell, but such a nice homely man. I could have said _anything_ to him--ye know what I mean. And he said to me undoubtedly the trouble arose from the twist she had given herself that day." "And whit was like the matter?" asked Miss Hendry, who had listened breathless to the recital. "Well," said Mrs. Macbean, "it was like this. When she slipped she had put something out of its place and it had put something else out of its place. I really can't tell you right what, but anyway Sir Angus Johnston said to me, 'Mrs. Macbean,' he said, 'your daughter's liver'--well, I wouldn't just be sure that it was her liver--but anyway he said it was as big as a tea-kettle." "Mercy!" ejaculated the awed Miss Hendry, who had no idea what was the proper size of any internal organ. "Keep us!" said Mrs. Thomson, who was in a similar state of ignorance. "A tea-kettle, Mrs. Macbean!" "A tea-kettle," said Mrs. Macbean firmly. "Oh, I say!" said Jessie. "That's awful!" Mrs. Macbean nodded her head several times, well pleased at the sensation she had made.