re you die, and God lets you in. It's so
easy, Grizel," cried Elspeth, with shining eyes.

Grizel pondered. "I don't believe it is so easy as that," she said,
decisively.

Nevertheless she asked presently what the Testament cost, and when
Elspeth answered "Fourpence," offered her the money.

"I don't want to sell it," Elspeth remonstrated.

"If you don't give it to me, I shall take it from you," said Grizel,
determinedly.

"You can buy one."

"No, the shop people would guess."

"Guess what?"

"I won't tell you."

"I'll lend it to you."

"I won't take it that way." So Elspeth had to part with her Testament,
saying wonderingly, "Can you read?"

"Yes, and write too. Mamma taught me."

"But I thought she was daft," Elspeth blurted out.

"She is only daft now and then," Grizel replied, without her usual
spirit. "Generally she is not daft at all, but only timid."

Next morning the Painted Lady's child paid three calls, one in town, two
in the country. The adorable thing is that, once having made up her
mind, she never flinched, not even when her hand was on the knocker.

The first gentleman received her in his lobby. For a moment he did not
remember her; then suddenly the color deepened on his face, and he went
back and shut the parlor-door.

"Did anybody see you coming here?" he asked, quickly.

"I don't know."

"What does she want?"

"She did not send me, I came myself."

"Well?"

"When you come to our house--"

"I never come to your house."

"That is a lie."

"Speak lower!"

"When you come to our house you tell me to go out and play. But I don't.
I go and cry."

No doubt he was listening, but his eyes were on the parlor-door.

"I don't know why I cry, but you know, you wicked man! Why is it?"

"Why is it?" she demanded again, like a queen-child, but he could only
fidget with his gold chain and shuffle uneasily in his parnella shoes.

"You are not coming to see my mamma again."

The gentleman gave her an ugly look.

"If you do," she said at once, "I shall come straight here and open that
door you are looking at, and tell your wife."

He dared not swear. His hand--

"If you offer me money," said Grizel, "I shall tell her now."

He muttered something to himself.

"Is it true?" she asked, "that mamma is dying?"

This was a genuine shock to him, for he had not been at Double Dykes
since winter, and then the Painted Lady was quite well.

"Nonsense!" he said, and his obvious disb