mourning; that the--living needed more prayers than--the--dead. She--
she said that when she was gone God would be good to her and that--I--
she said I would need all the money we had."

"A-a-h-h-h!" breathed Mrs. Pennycook. She understood now. What a
baggage the girl was! How heartless, begrudging her poor dead mother
the poor comfort of a Christian burial, because she wanted the money
for herself! Privately Mrs. Pennycook prophesied a bad ending for
Donnie Corblay. She winked knowingly at her husband, then with truly
feminine sarcasm:

"Well, at _least,_ Donna, you'll _have_ to buy a coffin an'
a _grave_ an' have the grave _dug_--"

"Sam Singer will attend to that. I'm going to bury mamma among the
flowers at the end of our garden. I'll have a nice plain coffin made in
San Pasqual--"

"Oh!" Mrs. Pennycook trembled.

"Mamma always said," Donna continued, "that undertakers preyed on the
dead and traded in human grief, and for me not to engage one for her
funeral. I'm going to do just what she told me to do, Mrs. Pennycook."

"Quite right, Donnie, quite right" interjected Mr. Pennycook. He was an
impulsive creature and even under the hypnotic eye of Mrs. P. he
sometimes broke out of bounds.

"Daniel! Come!"