She wondered idly whose coat it might be and who its future wearer was to marry. This reminded her of the minister and Grace. They would be happy now, her talk with Nat had assured her of that, and they, too, would be married one of these days. But she would not attend the wedding. She wondered what John had said when he read her note. He and Grace would be sorry for her, of course; but there was nothing they could do to help. No one could help her, no one. Perhaps by this time the man she had run away from had reached Trumet and her secret was known. How Didama and the rest would spread the tale! How Captain Elkanah and Annabel would sneer and exult! They hated her because she was the minister's friend. And Nat, poor fellow, what would he do? Well, at least he would understand now. The narrow stairway leading up to the workshop ended in a little boxed-in room where the finished garments were hung to await the final pressing. From behind the closed door of this room came the sound of voices, apparently in heated argument. One of these voices was that of Larry, the errand boy. Larry was speaking shrilly and with emphasis. The other voice was lower in key and the words were inaudible. “No, sir, you can't,” declared Larry. “You can't, I tell you. The boss don't let nobody in there and--Hold on! Hold on!” The other voice made a short but evidently earnest answer. Larry again expostulated. The workers looked up from their sewing. The door opened and Larry appeared, flushed and excited. “Where's Mr. Upham?” he demanded. “Mr. Upham!” Upham was the foreman of the workroom. At the moment he was downstairs in conversation with the head of the house. A half dozen gave this information. “What's the matter? Who is it?” asked several. “I don't know who 'tis. It's a man and he's crazy, I think. I told him he couldn't come in here, but he just keeps comin'. He wants to see somebody named Coffin and there ain't no Coffins here.” Keziah bent lower over the wedding coat. Her hand shook and she dropped the needle. “I told him we didn't keep coffins,” declared Larry. “This ain't no undertaker's. Where's Mr. Upham?” Keziah's nearest neighbor leaned toward her. “I guess it's somebody to see you,” she said. “Your name is Coffin, ain't it?” “No, no. That is, it can't be anybody to see me. I don't want to see anybody. Tell him so, whoever it is. I can't see anybody. I--NAT!” He stood in the doorway, beckoning to her. “Keziah,” he said, “come here. I want you. I'll tell you why in a minute. Come!” She hesitated. In a measure she was relieved, for she had feared the man at the door might be her husband. But she was greatly agitated and troubled. Everyone in the place was looking at her. “Nat,” she said, trying to speak firmly, “I can't see you now. I'm very busy. Please go away.” “Come!” “I can't come. Go away. Please!” “Keziah, I'm waitin'. And I'm goin' to wait if I stay here all night. Come!”