Goodricke, when my mistress had left us. “Does he understand about registering the death?” “I can’t rightly tell, sir,” says I, “but I should think not.” The doctor considered a minute, and then says he, “I don’t usually do such things,” says he, “but it may save the family trouble in this case if I register the death myself. I shall pass the district office in half an hour’s time, and I can easily look in. Mention, if you please, that I will do so.” “Yes, sir,” says I, “with thanks, I’m sure, for your kindness in thinking of it.” “You don’t mind staying here till I can send you the proper person?” says he. “No, sir,” says I; “I’ll stay with the poor lady till then. I suppose nothing more could be done, sir, than was done?” says I. “No,” says he, “nothing; she must have suffered sadly before ever I saw her⁠—the case was hopeless when I was called in.” “Ah, dear me!