ff long ago, but he made me promise not to give it away."

"You knew?" Mrs. Trott cried, her eyes flashing behind their waxed
lashes.

"Yes, and all about the house being rented. Huh! I guess I did! I saw
Sam Cavanaugh hide the key under the door-step one day, and after he
left I unlocked the door and went in and looked it over. Oh, it is
mighty pretty! I saw Mrs. Cavanaugh come in and clean it up one day,
too, and I knew that things was getting ripe. Huh! I've already seen
Tilly, too, for I've passed her several times while she was out in the
yard. I'd have spoke to her, but my best dress was out on the line and I
know John would want me to look neat and clean."

With steady eyes and a motionless breast Lizzie Trott turned toward the
stairs. "I want to talk to you in private, Jane," she said, under her
breath. "Come up to your room."

"I was going up, anyway, to get these hot things off," Jane said,
complainingly. "Something is wrong with me, Liz. I can't lace as tight
as I did without suffocating. I've got to take off my corset and lie
down. I almost fainted in Lowe & Beaman's this morning while I was
waiting for Doctor Renfrow to mix my tonic. He laughed and said that I
drink too much adulterated whisky for a woman of my build. He felt my
pulse and looked at my tongue and eyes and talked sorter serious about
my condition. He asked how old my mother was when she died, and when I
told him 'thirty-six' he shook his head and said I must come into his
office some day and let him examine me thoroughly."

Jane was out of breath by this time, for she had been talking while
ascending the stairs, and she turned into her room and sank down on the
bed. Mrs. Trott followed and stood over her, her hands on her hips.

"You say they have been here two days?" she said.

"Yes; came in the night," Jane panted forth as she began to unhook her
silk dress. "Oh, my! I have that gone feeling again--sort of
swimming-like, and when I try to see all of your face at once I get only
part of it--like a black spot was coming between--and if I look at the
wall there in the shade or at the floor I can see wriggling lights. The
doctor said my liver was awful."

Lizzie Trott took a chair and sat in it. She bent downward, her bare,
shapely elbows on her knees, her ringed fingers holding her chin.

"For the love of Heaven," she said, impatiently, "let up on your whining
for a minute and let's talk about John. What do you think about it?"

"Oh