poorhouse."

The doctor drew on his gloves.

"Why don't you tell your father how matters are?" he asked.

Then he saw he had ventured a step too far.

"I believe Jack would rather die than take help from his hands," she
answered, drawing herself up proudly. Her eyes flashed. "I would, too,
as far as I am concerned myself."

Then a tender look came over her pale, tired face, as she added, gently,
"But I'd do anything on earth to help Jack get well."

The doctor cleared his throat vigorously, and bolted out with a
gruff good night. As he rode past Locust, he took solid satisfaction in
shaking his fist at the light in an upper window.




CHAPTER VI.


The Little Colonel followed her mother to the dining-room, but paused
on the threshold as she saw her throw herself into Mom Beck's arms and
burst out crying.

"Oh, Becky!" she sobbed, "what is going to become of us? The doctor says