Presently the constable brought down the very last of the goods, and locking up the rooms, went away.
"Why, Deb, I declare, I didn't know you were going to move. You didn't say anything of it last Sunday. How lucky I came before you were gone! or, perhaps, how unlucky to come when you are all upside down. Never mind, go right ahead, and don't pay any attention to me. It's an awful job, isn't it? I haven't experienced moving in ten years, but I remember well that I didn't get straightened out for two months, and then it took twice that long to get accustomed to the new place. Where did you say you were moving to?"
And having thus delivered herself in one breath, the speaker, a middle-aged lady, who wore blue glasses, and was slightly deaf, took Deb's hand in a quick, nervous grasp, and peered into the care-worn face.
"Oh, Miss Parks, we are not moving at all!" cried out the girl, laying her head on her Sunday-school teacher's shoulder.
"Glad I called?" queried Miss Parks, misunderstanding her. "Well, now, seeing things as they are, I didn't expect it. But, maybe I can help you. I'm not overdressed, so just tell me what to do, and I'll go right to work. Hasn't the truck-man come yet?"
"We--are--not--moving," repeated Deb, putting her mouth close to Miss Parks's ear.
"No? Why--why--then something dreadful has happened, all your furniture out here on the sidewalk, with the dust a-blowing on 'em. What is it--fire? That's a dreadful thing. Even if things are not burned up, the smoke gets in 'em, and you can't get it out."
"It isn't fire," returned the unhappy girl, "it's because we can't pay the rent."
"Oh, dear!" Miss Parks was all sympathy at once. "I thought your brother was doing pretty well now," she added.
"So he was. But the tool works have shut down, and we can't get a cent from the bank."