f her property,
Persis cast a swiftly appraising glance at the chair her caller had
vacated. "Front rung sprung just as I expected," was her unspoken
comment. "It's a wonder that Etta West don't use more discretion about
furniture."

Mrs. West dabbed her moist forehead with her handkerchief, flopped the
palm-leaf indeterminately and cast an alarmed glance heavenward.
"Gracious, Persis, first thing you know, he'll be coming through."

"'Twon't hurt him to wait," Persis said again, as if long testing had
proved the reliability of the formula. "He called me up-stairs fifteen
minutes ago," she added, "to have me get down the 'cyclopedia and find
out when Confucius was born."

"I want to know," murmured Mrs. West, visibly impressed. "He's
certainly got an active mind."

"He has," Persis agreed dryly. "And it's the sort of mind that makes
lots of activity for other folks' hands and feet. Does that noise
worry you, Mis' West? For if it does, I'll run up and quiet him before
we get down to business."

Mrs. West approved the suggestion. "I brought my black serge," she
explained, "to have you see if it'll pay for a regular making-over--new
lining and all--or whether I'd better freshen it up and get all the
wear I can out of it, just as 'tis. But I declare! With all that
noise over my head, I wouldn't know a Dutch neck from a placket-hole.
I don't see how you stand it, Persis, day in and day out."

"There's lots in getting used to things," Persis explained, and left
the room with the buoyant step of a girl. She looked every one of her
six and thirty years, but her movements still retained the ardent
lightness of youth. Beaten people drag through life. Only the
unconquered move as Persis moved, as though shod with wings.

The anvil chorus ceased abruptly when Persis opened the door of her
brother's room. She entered with caution for the darkness seemed
impenetrable, after the sunny brightness of the spring afternoon. Joel
Dale's latest contribution to hygienic science was the discovery that
sunshine was poison to his constitution. Not only were the shutters
closed, and the shades drawn, but a patch-work bed-quilt had been
tacked over the window that no obtrusive ray of light should work havoc
with his health. Joel's voice was hoarsely tragic as he called to his
sister to shut the door.

"I'm going to as soon as I can find my way to the knob. It's so
pitch-dark in here that I'm as blind as an owl till I g