"
"David, please," coaxed Carol.
"Goosie! Who but a wife would make an invalid of a man because he
sneezes?" David laughed, and Carol said no more.
But a few minutes later, as she was carefully arranging a soft fur hat
over her hair and David stood patiently holding her coat, there came a
light tap at the door.
"It is Mr. Daniels," said Carol. "I know his knock. Come in, Father
Daniels. I knew it was you."
The old elder from next door, his gray hair standing in every direction
from the wind he had encountered bareheaded, his little gray eyes
twinkling bright, opened the door.
"You crazy kids aren't going down to that Hollow a night like this," he
protested.
They nodded, laughing.
"Well, David can't go," he said decidedly. "That's a bad cold he's
got, and it's been hanging on too long. I can't go myself for I can't
walk, but I'll call up my son-in-law and make him go. So take off your
hat, Parson, and-- No you come over and read the Bible to me while the
young folks go gadding. I need some ministerial attention myself,--I'm
wavering in my faith."
"You, wavering?" demanded David. "If no one ever wavered any harder
than you do, Daniels, there wouldn't be much of a job for the
preachers.
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