But
have I lost it? Seems to me I am as much a shouting Methodist as ever."
David laughed, coughing a little, and Carol bustled him off to bed,
sure he was catching a brand new cold, and berating herself roundly for
allowing this foolish angel of hers to get a chill right on her very
hands.
CHAPTER VII
THE FIRST STEP
It was Sunday night in mid-winter. After church, David remained for a
trustees' meeting, and Carol walked home with some of the younger ones
of the congregation. When they asked if she wished them to wait with
her for David she shook her head, smiling gratefully but with weariness.
"No, thank you. I am going right straight to bed. I am tired."
Into the little manse she crept, sinking into the first easy chair that
presented itself. With slow listless fingers she removed her wraps,
dropping them on the floor beside her,--laboriously unbuttoned and
removed her shoes, and in the same lifeless manner loosened her dress
and took the pins from her hair. Then, holding her garments about her,
she went in search of night dress, slippers and negligee. A few
seconds later she returned and curled herself up with some cushions on
the floor before the fireplace.
"Ought to make some coffee,--David's so hungry after
church,--too--dead--tired--Ummmmm.
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