"Sorry to have bothered you," David said.

"I was just getting a bit of sleep," Dr. Portland explained. His voice was flat. He sounded as exhausted as he looked. "I did a case this morning, and I felt tired."

"Tom Baringer?" Caldwell asked.

Dr. Portland nodded.

"I hope it went okay," Caldwell said.

"The operation went fine," Dr. Portland said. "Now we have to keep our fingers crossed for the post-op course."

David apologized again, then herded everyone, including himself, out of the office.

"Sorry about that," Kelley said.

"What's wrong with him?" David asked.

"Nothing that I know of," Kelley said.

"He doesn't look well," David said.

"I thought he looked depressed," Angela said.

"He's busy," Kelley admitted. "I'm sure he's just overworked."

The group stopped outside Kelley's office. "Now that we know you are coming," Kelley said, "is there anything that we can do to help?"

"We'll have to go look at a few houses," Angela said. "Who do you suggest we call?"

"Dorothy Weymouth," Caldwell said.

"He's right," Kelley said.

"She's far and away the best realtor in town," Caldwell added. "Come back to my office and use my phone."

A half hour later, the whole family was in Dorothy Weymouth's office on the second floor of the building across the street from the diner. She was a huge, pleasant woman attired in a shapeless, tent-like dress.

"I have to tell you, I'm impressed," Dorothy said. Her voice was surprisingly high-pitched for such a large woman. "While you were on your way over here from the hospital, Barton Sherwood called to tell me the bank is eager to help you. Now it doesn't happen often that the president of the bank calls before I've even met the client.

"I'm not sure exactly what your tastes are," Dorothy said as she began putting photos of properties currently on the market out on her desk. "So you'll have to help me. Do you think you'd like a white clapboard house in town or an isolated stone farmhouse? What about size? Is that an important consideration? Are you planning any more children?"

Both David and Angela tensed at the question of whether they would have more children. Until Nikki's birth, neither had suspected they were carriers of the cystic fibrosis gene. It was a reality they could not ignore.

Unaware she'd hit a nerve, Dorothy continued laying out photos of homes, while she maintained a steady monologue.

"Here's a particularly charming property that's just come on the market. It's a beauty."

Angela caught her breath. She picked up the photo. Nikki tried to look over her shoulder.

"I do like this one," Angela said. She handed the picture to David. It was a brick, late Georgian or early Federal style home with double bow windows on either side of a central, paneled front door. Fluted white columns held up a pedimented portico over the door. Above the pediment was a large Palladian window.

"That's one of the oldest brick homes in the area," Dorothy said. "It was built around 1820."

"What's this in the back?" David asked, pointing to the photo.

Dorothy looked. "That's the old silo," she said. "Behind the house and connected to it is a barn. You can't see the barn in that photo because the picture was taken directly in front of the house, down the hill. The property used to be a dairy farm, quite a profitable one, I understand."

"It's gorgeous," Angela said wistfully. "But I'm sure we could never afford it."

"You could according to what Barton Sherwood told me," Dorothy said. "Besides, I know that the owner, Clara Hodges, is very eager to sell. I'm sure we could get you a good deal. Anyway, it's worth a look. Let's pick four or five others and go see them."

Cleverly orchestrating the order of the visits, Dorothy left the Hodges house for last. It was located about two and a half miles south of the town center on the crest of a small hill. The nearest house was an eighth of a mile down the road. When they pulled into the driveway, Nikki noticed the frog pond and was immediately sold.

"The pond is not only picturesque," Dorothy said, "it's also great for skating in the wintertime."

Dorothy pulled to a halt between the house and the frog pond and slightly to the side. From there they had a view of the structure with its connected barn. Neither Angela nor David said a word. They were both awed by the home's noble and imposing character. They now realized that the house was three stories instead of two. They could see four dormers on each side of the pitched slate roof.

"Are you sure Mr. Sherwood thinks we can afford this?" David asked.

"Absolutely," Dorothy said. "Come on, let's see the interior."

In a state of near hypnosis, David and Angela followed Dorothy around the inside of the house. Dorothy continued her steady stream of realtor chatter, saying things like "This room has so much promise" and "With just a little creativity and work, this room would be so cozy." Any problems such as peeling wallpaper or dry-rotted window sashes she minimized. The good points, like the sizes of the many fireplaces and the beautiful cornice work, she lauded with an uninterrupted flow of superlatives.

David insisted on seeing everything. They even descended the gray granite steps into the basement, which seemed exceptionally damp and musty.

"There seems to be a strange smell," he said. "Is there a water problem down here?"

"Not that I've heard of," Dorothy said. "But it is a nice big basement. There's room enough for a shop if you're the handy type."

Angela suppressed a giggle as well as a disparaging comment. She'd been about to say that David had trouble changing light bulbs, but she held her tongue.

"There's no floor," David said. He bent down and pried up a bit of dirt with his fingernail.

"It's a packed earth floor," Dorothy explained. "It's common in older homes like this. And this basement has other features typical of a nineteenth-century dwelling." She pulled open a heavy wooden door. "Here's the old root cellar."

There was shelving for preserves and bins for potatoes and apples. The room was poorly lit with one small bulb.

"It's scary," Nikki said. "It's like a dungeon."

"This will be handy if your parents ever come to visit," David said. "We can put them up down here."

Angela rolled her eyes.

After showing them the root cellar, Dorothy took them over to the other corner of the basement and proudly pointed out a large freezer chest. "This house has both the old and the new methods of food storage," she said.

Before they left the basement Dorothy opened a second door. Behind it was a second flight of granite steps which led up to a hatch-like door. "These stairs lead out to the back yard," Dorothy explained. "That's why the firewood is here." She pointed to several cords of firewood neatly stacked against the wall.

The last thing of note in the basement was the huge furnace. It looked almost like an old-fashioned steam locomotive. "This used to burn coal," Dorothy explained, "but it was converted to oil." She pointed out a large fuel tank perched on cinder blocks in the corner opposite the freezer chest.

David nodded, though he didn't know much about furnaces no matter what they burned.

On the way back up the steps to the kitchen, David smelled the musty smell again and asked about the septic system.

"The septic system is fine," Dorothy said. "We had it inspected. It's to the west of the house. I can point out the leach field if you like."

"As long as it's been inspected, I'm sure it's okay," David said. He had no idea what a leach field was or what it should look like.

David and Angela had Dorothy drop them off at the Green Mountain National Bank. They were nervous and excited at the same time. Barton Sherwood saw them almost immediately.