David promptly did, and peace was restored.

A committee of brotherly ministers was sent out from the Presbytery to
find how things were going in the little manse in the Heights. Very
gently, very tenderly they made their inquiries of Carol, and Carol
answered frankly.

"With the furniture money we have six hundred dollars," she told them,
rather proudly.

"That's just fine. It will take you to Albuquerque and keep you
straight for a few months, and by that time we'll have things in hand
back here. You know, Mrs. Duke, you and David belong to us and we are
going to see you through. And then when it is all over we'll get him a
church out there,--why, everything is going splendidly. Now remember,
it may be a few months, or it may be ten years, but we are back of you
and we are going to see you through. Don't ever wonder where next
month's board is to come from. It will come. It isn't charity, Mrs.
Duke. It is just the big brotherhood of the church, that's all. We
are going to be your brothers, and fathers, and--mothers, too, if you
will have us."

The devoted mansers rallied around them, weeping over them, giving them
good advice along with other more material, but not more helpful,
assistance and declaring they always knew David was too good to live.
And when Carol resentfully assured them that David was still very much
alive, and maybe wasn't as good as they thought, they retaliated by
suggesting that her life was in no danger on that score.

On the occasion of Doctor O'Hara's last visit, Carol followed him out