Meantime, when the sum of money reached Enderby, Mrs. Middleton still lay unconscious at death’s door, it was said. And one whispered to another that it was, perhaps, better so, that it would be a blessing to the minister if she were to be taken away. She had been worse than a drag upon him all these years. Foolish, idle, lazy, extravagant, she had exaggerated her physical delicacy and given herself up to indolence and self-indulgence, running the household into debt until it was a disgrace to the minister and to the church. Mr. Middleton, dear saint, hadn’t known order nor comfort nor companionship for years until his niece had come. And when all was said, she could do better for him without her aunt.

However that might be, the minister himself took his wife’s sudden and terrifying illness sadly to heart. He hung over her bed and haunted her room, watching and praying for the return of consciousness and life. Not, perhaps, his peer in the first place, Mildred Middleton had not grown, had not kept pace with her husband, and she had truly of late fallen into deplorable habits for the head of a household. Nevertheless, he believed in her; loved her for her real warmth of heart, which her veil of sentimentality did not in any degree alter for him, for her optimism, her absolutely unfailing good nature, and for an intuitive womanliness he believed to be eminently her gift.

And presently when she rallied, his heart grew light, indeed. The doctor said it might be long before she would get her strength back, but he believed it possible that when she had regained it, she would be better than she had been for years. He told the minister quietly that it was fortunate she had been stricken as she had. The headache-powders she had been taking constantly contained a drug that had been slowly poisoning her. A little longer and her heart would have been permanently affected.

Meantime, before this, while she lay unconscious, the bills had begun to pour in. Along with the domestic science, Elsie had taken up bookkeeping at the high school, and fortified by that knowledge and the possession of the five hundred dollars, she summoned her courage, went to Mr. Middleton and asked if she might take the accounts in hand this month in Aunt Milly’s place.

Pleased by her thoughtfulness, he proposed that they should do them together. Elsie begged to be allowed to try them alone, just for once, but he insisted upon sharing the task, though he confessed that she would find him very rusty about such things, his wife having taken them off his hands for so many years.

Elsie’s heart sank. She knew that practically every tradesman had sent a bill in full, and apprehended that the totals would be appalling. She feared, too, that it would be awkward about the five hundred dollars. But there was nothing to do but to comply with his desire.

At his bidding, she brought the collection into the study that evening. He got out a check-book and they sat down, Elsie at the desk, and he by the side with one of the sliding shelves drawn out.

“You and I will do better with checks, Elsie, though Aunt Milly will have none of them,” he remarked, and took up the pile of envelopes.

“We’ll begin with the top one Mason,” he said. “Fill in the date and name James S. and now, let’s see the sum.”

He drew out the bill, glanced at it, then looked sharply as if it were hard to decipher.

“A hundred and seventy-five dollars!” he exclaimed. “Of course that can’t be. It should be a dollar and seventy-five cents, I suppose, and yet it’s quite plain see one hundred seventy-five and two ciphers. There’s some mistake. I’ll just put it aside and telephone in the morning. Leave that and start another, dear. Andrew White’s the next no middle letter.”

He opened the next with the same confidence. Eighty-six dollars was large for a milk bill. He glanced at it doubtfully. Bill rendered indicated that it wasn’t all for this month. It must have slipped by, somehow. And of course Mrs. Middleton had to have egg-nog and cream and all that. He bade Elsie draw the check, feeling that they must have paid the largest first. But Elsie’s heart sank as he took up the next envelope with Berry’s name in the corner. Berry was the grocer.

“Four hundred ninety-two dollars!” he gasped. “Wait, Elsie, we’ll look them all through before we do any more. There’s something wrong. Now this goes back let me see. Bill rendered bill rendered it seems to go back a year or more. I wonder if perhaps your aunt has asked for statements for a year in order to see what her expenditures amount to?” He shook his head “No, here’s a credit. And this is plain enough ‘Amount due November 1.’”

He opened the others one by one. None was so large as the grocery bill, though that of the market was above four hundred dollars, and the others large, the sum total being, as Elsie had foreseen, appalling. It did not take long to discover that Mrs. Middleton was behind in her accounts for a year or more.

It must have been hard for her husband to understand what had become of the monthly household allowance she had had in cash regularly. Credit was given here and there, indeed, but always in small sums. It must, too, have been hard for John Middleton to face the facts, but he stood the test. He looked weary and worn he certainly grew haggard and seemed to grow old; but no word of impatience escaped him. Indeed, he did not appear to have an impatient thought.

“This has all been too much for your aunt, Elsie,” he said finally. “She wanted to spare me, and when the task got beyond her strength she wouldn’t give in. She has been a greater sufferer than any of us dreamed. Apparently she has had those terrible headaches almost constantly, hiding the pain from every one and trying to get relief by taking those strong tablets. And no doubt these accounts gave her no end of pain and worry, and got into confusion in spite of her.”

He bowed his head in his hand and sat thus some little time, aware of Elsie’s silent sympathy. He smiled wearily when he raised it.

“We’ll give it over for to-night, Elsie. I’ll see what I can do to-morrow and then we’ll tackle them again. I think I shall be able to do something, but we may have to go carefully for a time.”

He hesitated.

“Kate’s the most faithful soul in the world, but I doubt if she gives her orders carefully,” he remarked.

“I’ve started in giving them since Aunt Milly’s illness,” said Elsie shyly. “Katy doesn’t mind. I learned how at school, and I keep them in a little book so as to compare them with the bills at the end of the month.”

“Elsie Moss, you are certainly a trump!” he cried. “Do let me see your book, dear.”

She produced it and he examined the neat items with interest, praising her warmly and seeming greatly cheered already. And then the girl made an effort and mentioned a sum of five hundred dollars which she had on hand and wished he would use.

“My dear child!” he cried, smiling tenderly, “I wouldn’t touch your money for the world. The truth is, I ought to pay you a salary as housekeeper and pastor’s assistant, though I couldn’t begin to compensate you for the better part. You have been like the daughter of the household, or such a sister as your mother was.”

The following day Mrs. Middleton regained consciousness, and the next day the minister went into Boston and made arrangements to secure the money to meet his obligations by reducing his life-insurance policy one-half and disposing of some bonds. That evening they drew checks and settled everything in full. Thereafter Elsie gave the orders, checked the accounts at the end of the month, and made out the checks for Mr. Middleton to sign. On the whole she did remarkably well and reduced the general expenses considerably. She made mistakes, but they were few; for her mind was of the type that takes to figures and details, and she was naturally methodical and accurate. Mr. Middleton smiled at the neat little packets of receipted bills, docketed and filed, but he was extravagantly grateful to her for all that.

Mrs. Middleton gained slowly. One day, a fortnight or more after she was convalescent, the minister came to Elsie with a good-sized check in his hand made out to her. The girl looked at him in amazement, filled with vague dismay.

“For your winter clothes, Elsie,” he explained. “Aunt Milly reminded me. In fact, she rather scolded me for not thinking of it earlier. And she suggests that you get one of the schoolgirls and go into Boston for a day’s shopping on Saturday.”

Elsie paled she had begun to show a pretty color of late. This was her first realization of the discomfort of a false position. Long since, Mr. Middleton had come to seem her real uncle, and her affection for him was as deep as if he had truly been; indeed, nowadays she seldom realized that the relationship was not real. But to accept money from him from that she shrank instinctively. And that proved the difference. For though not in the least drawn toward Cousin Julia, for all the other Elsie’s enthusiasm, she could have accepted a larger sum from her without a qualm.

“Oh, Uncle John, I really don’t need a thing!” she cried beseechingly, and he had to smile.

“Nonsense, my dear, I have the word of your aunt that you will need everything. Kate has told her that during the summer all the fashions have flopped completely over, so that last year’s clothes wouldn’t even keep one warm. Biases and bulges that formerly came at the top of the gown now come at the bottom; sleeves are big where they were little, and vice versa, and collars the same. As for hats there the transformation is so great that I pause before it.”

Elsie laughed. “Well, if it’s so bad as that, I’ll spend my five hundred dollars blow it in, as as my friend in New York would say.”

“Ah, Elsie, I see through you now!” he exclaimed. “You think I can’t afford it, because of those big bills. As a matter of fact, I could do it easily even if you weren’t managing things so economically. And, besides, Aunt Milly has set her heart on it. And oh, Elsie, I’m so thankful to keep her with us that I should like to do something extraordinary, something really rash and extravagant. Please head me off by letting me do this simple, natural thing which is less than just, and which will please Aunt Milly more than anything I could do for her. Why, my dear Elsie, pray why shouldn’t I do it? Wasn’t your mother my only sister and dearest friend?”

On a sudden Elsie buried her face and wept the only tears she had shed since her coming to Enderby.