Keturah's married."

The minister looked up startled, then smiled in amusement. "Yes, and
Caroline also, but Carrie has no children."

"Who keeps house for you if your wife is an angel and your biggest
children are married? Do they live with you still?"

"O, no. Both girls have homes of their own in other towns. My sister
Anne stays with us, and with the help of Penelope and Pansy manages the
house very well."

"What did you do with your boy? You haven't said a word about him yet."

"Dickson? O, he doesn't live at home any more, either. He is a doctor at
Danbury Hospital in Fairview. He is getting to be quite a remarkable
surgeon and we are all proud of him, I can tell you."

"How nice!" exclaimed Peace, glancing involuntarily at the slippered
feet resting on the cushioned stool of Dr. Campbell's great Morris
chair. "I wish we had a good doctor in our family. Then p'r'aps _he_
could make me walk again."

"Walk again!" Amazement, consternation showed in the minister's face,
and his eyes also sought the useless little feet on their cushion. "Why,
child," he whispered, all the pity and sympathy of his great heart
throbbing in his voice, "are _you_ lame?"

It seemed incredible, and yet he recalled now that all the while he had
sat there listening to her chatter, those gay slippers had not once
moved.

"Yes," Peace answered simply, surprised at his question. "Didn't you
know that before?"

He shook his head.

"I'll have to live in chairs all my life," she explained. "They _said_
maybe after a time I could have crutches, but it's my back that's hurt
and crutches won't be much good to me, I guess. I _clum_ a roof and
fell--oh, months and months ago."

Briefly she recounted the unlucky adventure and the sad, weary days that
had followed, while the preacher listened spell-bound,--shocked at the
sorrowful tale.

When she had finished, his quivering lips whispered tenderly, "Poor
little girl!" and two great tears stole down his rugged cheeks.

Peace was deeply touched at this unusual display of sympathy, and laying
her thin little hand on his knee, she said softly, "I love you." There
was a pause. Then before Dr. Shumway could think of any appropriate
words in which to voice his turbulent thoughts, the crippled girl
abruptly exclaimed, "Why, do you know, you've got eyes like my cat!"

The reverend gentleman fairly bounced from his chair in his
astonishment. "Eyes like your c--cat!" he stuttered.

"Yes," Peace