"Do you have heart trouble?" asked Peggy, alarmed.
"Yes, Miss. But that's not the worst. I've got a disease that will take me off some day, I s'pose." She lowered her voice thrillingly. "Lots of folks die of it. You'll see by the papers. It's complication."
"Complication!" Peggy and Priscilla exchanged glances.
"Complication," repeated Mrs. Dunn, as if determined to make no concessions. "I guess it's pretty near the most fatal of any. You can buy things at any drug store to cure consumption and amonia of the lungs, but there ain't a cure for complication. I ast the druggist myself and he said he didn't know of none."
Peggy attempted to change the subject to something less depressing. "I don't suppose Jimmy is home?"
"No, Miss. He's off sellin' papers."
"He's left school, has he? It's a pity, for he seems so bright."
"Jimmy's been through the fourth grade," said Mrs. Dunn. "He can read well enough for anybody. And Francesca, she pretty near finished the fourth grade, too, and she's in the factory now. In the spring they're going to give her a machine."
"Isn't she pretty young? I thought they weren't allowed to work in the factory till--"
"Francesca got a permit," explained Mrs. Dunn, "'count of her pa being out of a job."