moment's notice, just because of a little lover's quarrel. Heavens alive! You come to bed and sleep on it. You'll feel entirely different in the morning. So will he. Gracious! I know how those things work. Quarrels make the heart grow fonder. There's a saying something like that. You come to bed, Laurel."
"Not till the packing is finished," said Laurel.
She turned her back upon Stella, crossed the room to the bureau, pulled out a lower drawer, and removed a pile of underclothes.
"You don't mean to say you're going to pack up and clear out of the only place we ever even had a 'look-in' at?"
"Yes, mother."
"Where do you think we're going to at this late date?"
"Why, back to the apartment."
"Back to the apartment in July!"
"Yes, mother."
"Do you mean to say, Laurel, you're thinking of putting me in a train in the condition I'm in?"
"I stopped and asked the doctor. He said it wouldn't hurt you to travel, he thought."
"And what about the expense of this room?"
"The clerk said we wouldn't have to pay for it. But even if we did, it wouldn't make any difference. Oh, mother, don't talk. Don't argue. We're going, anyway."
Laurel was emptying all the bureau drawers now. Stella, from the bed, stared at her speechless, as helpless, as powerless as if she were the child. She recognized that look in Laurel's eyes.
