ol reproachfully. "There you see! That's what
comes of eating raw eggs." Then he added suspiciously, "Maybe you knew
it before and have been enticing me to raw eggs on purpose."

Both Carol and David seized this silly pretext to relieve their
feelings, and laughed so heartily that good Mrs. Sater was quite
concerned for them. She had heard it sometimes affected folks like
that,--a great nervous or mental shock. She looked at them very
anxiously indeed.

"Are you selling your furniture pretty well?" she asked nervously.

"Oh, just fine. Mr. Barker at the drug store has promised to fumigate
everything after we are gone, so we won't scatter any germs in our
wake." Carol spoke hurriedly, her heart swelling with pity as she saw
the sudden convulsive clutching of David's hands beneath the covers.
"Mr. Daniels has a list of 'who bought what,' and will see that
everything is delivered in good shape. Only, we take the money
ourselves in advance. Now look at this chair, Mrs. Sater,--a lovely
chair," she rattled, thinking wretchedly of that contraction of David's
hands and the darkening of his eyes. "A splendid chair. It isn't sold
yet. It cost us eight seventy-five one year ago, and we are selling it
for the mere pittance of five dollars even,--we make it even because we
haven't any change. A most beautiful chair, an article to grace any
home, a constant reminder of us, a chair in which great men have
sat,--Mr. Daniels, and Mr. Baldwin, and the horrible gas collector who
has made life wretched for every one in the Heights, and--all for five
dollars, Mrs. Sater. Can you resist it?"

Carol's voice took on a new ring as she saw the shadow leave David's
eyes, and his lips curve into laughter again.

"Well, I swan, Mrs. Duke, if you don't beat all. Yes, I'll take that
chair. It may not be worth five dollars, but you are."

Carol ostentatiously collected the five dollars, doubled it carefully
into a tiny bit, and tied it in the corner of her handkerchief.

"My money, Mr. David Arnold Duke, and I shall buy candy and talcum with
it."

Then she ran into the adjoining room to answer the telephone.

Mrs. Sater looked about her hesitatingly and leaned forward.

"David," she said in a low voice, "Carol ought to go home to her
father. It's dangerous for her to stay with you. Everybody says so.
Make her go home until you are well. She may get it too if she goes
along. They'll take good care of you at the Presbyter