Supporting herself against the wall, Katy crept along. At the end a door opened into the house proper, that seldom visited temple to the gods of order and cleanliness. The door now stood open. "Are you sick?" gasped Katy. "Where are you? Did you fall?" "No," came the slow answer. "I am here. You can make a light." Falteringly Katy obeyed. On a bracket at the end of the hall hung a lamp; this she lighted with a great clattering of globe against chimney. Then, lifting the lamp, she carried it into the room from which the voice proceeded. Her scarlet shawl was still about her, her hair was disorderly from the squire's embrace, her eyes were wild and startled. She was a strange contrast to the room in which she stood. Here was the great high bed with its carved posts, each terminating in a pineapple; here the interesting steps on which one mounted to the broad plateau of repose; here the fine curtains and the rich carpet,--all as Katy had left them after the last careful sweeping and dusting and polishing. But the bed had been disturbed; in it lay the mistress of the house, white and sick, but full of satisfaction over having accomplished her pitiful purpose. Katy's wild eyes questioned her. "It was time for me to come," announced Cassie, solemnly. "It was time for you to come!" repeated Katy. "What do you mean?" "My time has come," explained Cassie. "You are to go for the preacher." Katy clasped her hands across her breast. She remembered now the bureau in which the white underclothes and the black dress were kept. She began to cry. "Oh, no! I will go for the doctor! You shouldn't have done this! You have made yourself worse! I will get you the medicine the doctor gave you, then I will run for him." "You will go for the preacher," directed Cassie, wearily. "My time has come." Katy looked wildly about her, but found no help either in the thick carpet or the heavy hangings. She was afraid to go, yet she did not dare to stay. Cassie sank a little deeper into her pillows, the shadows under her eyes seemed to darken, the covers moved with her throbbing heart. "Go!" she commanded thickly. Katy ran down the steps through the kitchen and out to the gate. The preacher lived nearer than the doctor; a single knock and his window was lifted. "Cassie Hartman must see you!" cried Katy. "She is very low. Bring the doctor and come quickly." Without staying to hear whether there were any questions to be answered, Katy flew back into the dark kitchen and up the narrow stairs. Cassie lay with her eyes closed, her hands folded across her breast. "The front door should be opened, and there should be a light," she gasped. "I cannot leave you!" "Go!" said Cassie. Again Katy flew to obey. David should be sent for; must she remind them that David should be sent for? It seemed to Katy that any observer could see her obsession in her face. "You know where my things are, Katy," whispered Cassie. "Yes, I know! But you are not going to die!"