"My poor child, but are not you glad that your little Mummy has got some money?  Dear me, Flo, I have been ill since you saw me last.  I was almost at death's door, and Dr. Hunt was so kind, coming in two or three times a day.  But there, I have not paid his bill yet; it is fearful to think of it!  Now, I should really like to take Sir John into my confidence.  I would not ask him for the money, but I should just tell him exactly how I am placed, with so much a year--very, very little; a scrimped, tightened widow: that's the only way in which I can express my condition, scrimped and tightened, nothing else.  A generous cheque from him would set all right."