She hurried back through the shop to the door of the little room where her brother was imprisoned. She listened at the crack. What she heard would, at any other time, have aroused her to indignant action. Now, however, she seemed relieved. Cautiously she opened the door and peeped in. Millard Fillmore Clark was seated in the corner, upon the official stool, his head against an empty mail bag, his mouth open, snoring placidly. Reliance shook her head, a shake which presaged trouble for the slumberer later on. Then she carefully closed the door and hastened out to the step. Varunas was bending over the traveling bag. He looked up when she appeared. “It’s locked,” he said, in righteous resentment. “I was goin’ to open it for you and blessed if she ain’t been and locked it. That’s a healthy thing to do, I must say! A body’d think she didn’t trust me. I don’t like her doin’ that. I’ve a good mind to tell her so.” Reliance made no comment. “Take it in the house,” she ordered. “Come right along. I’ll show you where to put it.” Mr. Gifford, under her pilotage, bore the bag to the house, where it was placed on the floor of the dining-room closet. He would have lingered to ask more questions and offer surmises, but Reliance would neither linger nor listen. She got rid of him as soon as possible and, after she had seen him drive away from the gate, returned to her rocker in the millinery shop. She made no attempt to sew, however. She sat there thinking, thinking. What did Esther’s sending that bag mean? What had happened? And what more was to happen? The early fall twilight deepened. At five-thirty Reliance rose from the rocker, marched to the door of the mail room and threw it open. “Get up!” she ordered. “Get up out of that this minute!” Millard heard, started, opened his eyes and closed his mouth simultaneously. “Eh?” he cried, the mouth reopening. “Eh?... Oh, is that you, Reliance? Well, I’ve been wonderin’ where you was. I was sittin’ here thinkin’ about--oh, about different things, and--er--” His sister interrupted. “Get up off that stool,” she said. “Come out here.” She led the way to the shop. Mr. Clark followed her. “Been a kind of a stupid afternoon,” he announced. “Not much doin’ in the office there. How’s your new dress gettin’ on, Reliance?” Reliance ignored the question. She opened the drawer of the table by the sewing machine and took therefrom her worn pocketbook. “Millard,” she said, crisply, “I want you to listen to me and do what I tell you. I am too tired to bother with you any longer to-night. Get out of this buildin’ and stay out.” “_Stay_ out? What do you mean by that? What are you puttin’ me outdoors for, like a--like a cat? Aw, Reliance, what are you mad about? I suppose you think I was asleep in yonder. Well, I wasn’t.”