nd I came away as soon as I could. She says there's a little
Fidelity stock that brings enough to keep her in the rest-place, so she
feels a little better about that. (By the way, she tried to say she
wouldn't go, and I said she had to.) Then there's something else--Rocky
Head Granite, I think--that will give us something to live on. We'll
have to see Mr. Dodge as soon as we can; I'm all mixed up."

They did see Mr. Dodge, that afternoon. He was nice, as Felicia had
said. He made her sit in his big revolving-chair, while he brought out a
lot of papers and put on a pair of drooping gold eye-glasses to look at
them. And the end of the afternoon found Ken and Felicia very much
confused and a good deal more discouraged than before. It seemed that
even the Rocky Head Granite was not a very sound investment, and that
the staunch Fidelity was the only dependable source of income.

"And Mother must have that money, of course, for the rest-place,"
Felicia said. "For Heaven's sake, don't tell her," Ken muttered.

His sister shot him one swift look of reproach and then turned to Mr.
Dodge. She tried desperately to be very businesslike.

"What do you advise us to do, Mr. Dodge?" she said. "Send away the
servants, of course."

"And Miss Bolton," Ken said; "she's an expensive lady."

"Yes, Miss Bolton. I'll teach Kirk--I can."

"How much is the rent of the house, Mr. Dodge, do you know?" Ken asked.
Mr. Dodge did know, and told him. Ken whistled. "It sounds as though
we'd have to move," he said.

"The lease ends April first," said the attorney.

"We could get a little tiny house somewhere," Felicia suggested.
"Couldn't you get quite a nice one for six hundred dollars a year?"

This sum represented, more or less, their entire income--minus the
expenses of Hilltop Sanatorium.

"But what would you eat?" Mr. Dodge inquired gently.

"Oh, dear, that's true!" said Felicia. And clothes! What _do_ you think
we'd better do?"

"You have no immediate relatives, as I remember?" Mr. Dodge mused.

"None but our great-aunt, Miss Pelham," Ken said, "and _she_ lives in
Los Angeles."

"She's very old, too," Phil said, "and lives in a tiny house. She's not
at all well off; we shouldn't want to bother her. And there is Uncle
Lewis."

"Oh, _him_!" said Ken, gloomily.

"It takes three months even to get an answer from a letter to him,"
Felicia explained. "He's in the Philippines, doing something to
Ignorants."

"Igorrotes, Phil," Ken