moved away aimlessly, carrying her hat by the strings.
Ray looked after her with the exaltation born of bodily pain and said
between his teeth, "Always look after that girl, doc. She's a queen!"

Thea and her father went back to Moonstone on the one-o'clock passenger.
Dr. Archie stayed with Ray Kennedy until he died, late in the afternoon.

XX

On Monday morning, the day after Ray Kennedy's funeral, Dr. Archie
called at Mr. Kronborg's study, a little room behind the church. Mr.
Kronborg did not write out his sermons, but spoke from notes jotted upon
small pieces of cardboard in a kind of shorthand of his own. As sermons
go, they were not worse than most. His conventional rhetoric pleased the
majority of his congregation, and Mr. Kronborg was generally regarded as
a model preacher. He did not smoke, he never touched spirits. His
indulgence in the pleasures of the table was an endearing bond between
him and the women of his congregation. He ate enormously, with a zest
which seemed incongruous with his spare frame.

This morning the doctor found him opening his mail and reading a pile of
advertising circulars with deep attention.

"Good-morning, Mr. Kronborg," said Dr. Archie, sitting down. "I came to
see you on business. Poor Kennedy asked me to look after his affairs for
him. Like most railroad men he spent his wages, except for a few
investments in mines which don't look to me very promising. But his life
was insured for six hundred dollars in Thea's favor."

Mr. Kronborg wound his feet about the standard of his desk-chair. "I
assure you, doctor, this is a complete surprise to me."

"Well, it's not very surprising to me," Dr. Archie went on. "He talked
to me about it the day he was hurt. He said he wanted the money to be
used in a particular way, and in no other." Dr. Archie paused meaningly.

Mr. Kronborg fidgeted. "I am sure Thea would observe his wishes in every
respect."

"No doubt; but he wanted me to see that you agreed to his plan. It seems
that for some time Thea has wanted to go away to study music. It was
Kennedy's wish that she should take this money and go to Chicago this
winter. He felt that it would be an advantage to her in a business way:
that even if she came back here to teach, it would give her more
authority and make her position here more comfortable."

Mr. Kronborg looked a little startled. "She is very young," he
hesitated; "she is barely seventeen. Chicago is a long way from home.