Reed wrote from time to time. Just now he was absorbed in the exhibition which was taking place at one of the galleries. A creditable number of pictures had been sold; others would be auctioned off at the close, and certain ones, if not sold, would be withdrawn, and offered later. Ellen watched eagerly for the reports, valuing the appreciation shown as much as the material returns. A week passed in which Albert Crump’s proposition was discussed daily from all points of view. Miss Rindy hesitated because she did not want Ellen to go to the city alone. “I don’t see why you couldn’t go with me,” she suggested at one time. “Oh, but what would I do when I got there?” said Ellen. “You could be a companion for Teresa.” Ellen laughed. “She is twelve and I am nearly nineteen; I’m afraid we wouldn’t have much in common, especially if she is spoiled. I don’t believe you have spoiled me, Cousin Rindy.” “I hope not, and I don’t mean to spoil her.” “Mabel says that she and I are very unmodern and behind the times, but I don’t think I am of the clinging-vine order, and I believe I could be as independent as the next if I were thrown on my own resources.” “Perhaps you could be; all the same I don’t like to think of you in the city alone. If you could go to the Austins, or if that nice Mr. Barstow were still living and could watch over you, I wouldn’t so much mind.” “If that dear man were living, probably I wouldn’t have the means to go, unless I found some sort of position. Don’t worry about me, Cousin Rindy, if that’s all that keeps you from accepting.” “To be sure it would be a great experience and give me a chance to see that part of the country, and I don’t have to stay, even if Albert does pay my fare, for I shall not promise to remain there for more than a year. After that we shall see what happens.” So at last the matter was settled, the proposition was accepted, and Miss Rindy was to be gone a year. The Dove-Hales had some friends who were eager to rent Miss Crump’s house, furnished, and there was much to be done before the first of February, when the occupants decided to leave. Caro dissolved in tears when she heard the news. Jeremy heaved a sigh and shook his head. “My little song bird is leaving her nest. I fear she will not come back to it,” he said. Then one day appeared Reed. “I just had to come,” he said as Ellen greeted him at the door. “It’s all over but the shouting, and I knew you would want to know. Besides,” he added after a short pause, “I just had to see you; couldn’t stand it any longer. Why, it’s been nearly three months, Cronette, and my patience is stretched to the breaking point. Glad to see me?” “Indeed I am,” Ellen assured him. “Well, how did it go?”