I have thought much of her since the weather turned colder.
I found her looking frail and slightly trembling, but not as ill as I had feared. I had
Mrs Jelf shut me in with her and we talked together for half an hour; and when I took
her hand at last I said that I was pleased to feel her grip so strong, and to see her
so healthy.
I said it, and she grew crafty. She answered, ''Well, you are not to say a word,
miss, to Miss Haxby or Miss Ridley— indeed, you must pardon me for asking, for
I know you would not. But the truth is, it is all thanks to my matron, Mrs Jelf. She
brings me meat from her own plate, and she has given me a length of red flannel to
wear about my throat at night. And when the air is extra chill, she has a bit of
rubbing stuff she puts upon me here''—she touched her chest and shoulders—
''with her own hand; and that makes all the difference. She is as good to me as my
own girl—in truth, she calls me "Mother". "We must have you quite ready,
Mother," she says, "for your ticket-of-leave" . . .''
Her eyes gleamed as she spoke the words, and then she took her coarse blue
kerchief and pressed it for a moment to her face. I said that I was glad that Mrs Jelf,
at least, was kind to her.
''She is kind to us all,'' she said. ''She is the kindest matron in the gaol.'' She
shook her head. ''Poor lady! She ain''t been here long enough to learn proper