It will do me as much good to see you take it as if I might drink it myself.' Nothing but this assurance could have prevailed upon the small nurse to indulge in such a luxury.

Having eaten and drunk to Mr Swiveller's extreme contentment, given him his drink, and put everything in neat order, she wrapped herself in an old coverlet and lay down upon the rug before the fire.
Mr Swiveller was by that time murmuring in his sleep, 'Strew then, oh strew, a bed of rushes.

Here will we stay, till morning blushes.

Good night, Marchioness!'.