to the porch.

"You haven't presented your bill," she reminded him. "And it's a good
thing for you we are preachers or we might have slipped away in the
night."

"I haven't any bill against you," he said, smiling kindly down at her.

Carol flushed. "Doctor," she protested. "We expected to pay you. We
have the money. We don't want you to think we can't afford it. We
knew you were an expensive doctor, but we wanted you anyhow."

He smiled again. "I know you have the money, but, my dear little girl,
you are going to need every cent of it and more too before you get rid
of this specter. But I couldn't charge David anything if he were a
millionaire. Don't you understand,--this is the only way we doctors
have of showing what we think of the big work these preachers are doing
here and there around the country?"

"But, doctor," said Carol confusedly, "we are--Presbyterians, you
know--we are Protestants."

The doctor laughed. "And I am a Catholic. But what is your point?
David is doing good work, not my kind perhaps, and not my way, but I
hope, my dear, we are big enough and broad enough to take off our hats
to a good worker whether he does things just our way or not."

Carol looked abashed. She caught her under lip between her teeth and
kept her eyes upon the floor for a moment. Finally she faced him
bravely.