"How do you feel now, Sarah?" he asked, as they seated themselves in the parlor, and Sarah took up her basket of crocheting. "You know the doctor said I must let him know how you got along."
"I am perfectly well," said Sarah emphatically, "and what's more, I intend to stay well."
David laughed aloud with pleasure. "I'll tell the doctor how well his prescription worked. That cottage is the best investment I ever made."
"Even if we never went back to it," said Sarah thoughtfully, "it would make me happy just to know it's there and it's ours."
"That reminds me," said David, with a sudden change of manner. "Hale and Davis say they can sell this house for me any day."
"Hale and Davis?" inquired Sarah with a look of surprise.
"Real estate men," explained David.
"What right have they to sell my house?" asked Sarah almost angrily.
David looked embarrassed. "Why, Sarah, I told them you were dissatisfied; you know you said—"
"Yes, I know I did," owned Sarah hastily. Her face crimsoned with an embarrassment greater than David's. During his absence she had been born again, born from poverty to riches. This sudden change of heart and mind that had made her a new creature was a mystery to herself; how, then, could she explain it satisfactorily to her husband? "I know you'll think I'm notionate and changeable, but—I don't want to sell this house. I feel just as much at home here now as I do in the little cottage. I've got used to the servants and everything, and I want to stay, and if I did not want to, I'd stay anyhow. It's cowardly to run away or turn back when you've set out to do a certain thing, and I'm not a coward. Oh! I know I can't make you understand how I feel about it and how I came to change so, but—I want to stay in this house." She paused and looked pleadingly at David. For a few seconds he was dumb with astonishment, then: