"I do, but he is a tyrant. Aren't you, David? I have to get up for

breakfast!"

"Terrible," said William delightedly.

"Why, but it is. I don't know when I've done such a thing! At first

I thought I really couldn't. But I couldn't leave him all by himself,

down-stairs--could I, David?"

"I'd just as lieves," said David, gently.

"Oh, how like your sex!" Helena cried.

"What do you suppose I've come for?" Dr. King began in the bantering

tone one uses to a child. "I've come to get you to exert your

influence to improve business. Business!" he repeated, delighted at

his own absurdity; "a lady who finds it hard to get up in the

mornings."

She looked at him ruefully; "I'm lazy, I am afraid." "No, you're

not--it's a very sensible thing to do, if you are not strong. Well, I

must tell you what we want; Sam Wright is anxious, because young Sam

neglects his work at the bank, and--"

"But he doesn't like business," she explained with a surprised look;

and William laughed with pleasure.

"So that's a reason for not attending to it? Unfortunately, that's the

young man's own point of view. He's a queer youngster," William added

in his kind voice.

"I don't think it's queer not to like disagreeable things," Helena

said.

"Well, no; but all the same, we've got to stand them. Sam has no

patience with anything disagreeable. Why, when he was a little

fellow--let me see, he was younger than David; about four, I think--he

scratched his finger one day pretty severely; it smarted, I guess,

badly. Anyway, he roared! Then he picked up a pair of scissors and ran

bawling to his mother; 'Mamma, cut finger off! It hurts Sam--cut

finger off!' That's been his principle ever since: 'it hurts--get rid

of it.'"

"I don't blame him in the least," Helena protested gayly; "I'm sure

I've wanted to 'cut finger off.' And I have done it, too!"

"Well," said the doctor with great pretence of gravity, "I suppose,

then, we'll have to tell old Mr. Wright that nobody must ever do

anything he doesn't want to do? It appears that he's worried, too,

because the young gentleman isn't industrious. The fact is, he thinks

Sam would rather come up here than work over his ledgers," he teased.

Helena sprung to her feet, nervously. "But I wish he wouldn't come! I

don't want him to come. I can't help it; indeed I--I can't help it!"

She spoke with a sort of gasp. Instantly David, who had been lounging

in the swing, slipped down and planted himself directly in front of

her, his arms stretched out at each side. "I'll take care of you," he

said protectingly.




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