“I suppose Varunas, if he is up, will tell him I sent my bag here.” “Yes, of course. And he will come chasin’ down here first thing. You didn’t tell him you were leavin’ him for good?” “No. I meant to write him a letter telling him why I could not live with him any longer and how terribly I felt at leaving him, although I knew it was right. But I wanted to see Bob first. I shall write that letter this evening, at South Denboro.” “No, you won’t. You will write it right here in this house. That is one of the things you must do before you go to South Denboro. And it is important; but not as important as somethin’ else.” “Auntie!... How strange you look--and act. What is it?” “Strange! I feel strange--but I haven’t got time to think about it. Oh, dear, dear! I ought to go out and open that post office this minute. Esther, come into the front room with me. Mr. Griffin will excuse us, I guess. He’ll have to. Come.” She hurried her niece into the little parlor, a room of course almost never used. Bob, left in the sitting-room, heard the clink of a lamp chimney and the scratch of a match. Then the hum of hurried conversation. Esther’s voice rose in an exclamation, apparently in expostulation, but her aunt’s sharp command hushed it to silence. A few minutes later Reliance hurried out. “She’s writin’ the note to her Uncle Foster,” she explained, quickly. “Poor thing, it will be terribly hard to do. As for him, when he reads it-- Well, I mustn’t think about him now. For the rest, she will do it. She agreed with me that it may be best. Whether she agreed or not it would be done just the same. I know it is best.” Bob shook his head. “If I knew what this was all about,” he began, with a shrug, “I--” “You’re goin’ to learn. It is just this: You aren’t goin’ to be married in Boston to-morrow--or to-morrow anywhere else. You are goin’ to be married to-night, right here in this sittin’ room, by a Harniss minister. You are goin’ to be married right here where I can see it done, and be a witness to it. Then, if anybody dares to say anything out of the way, they’ll have me to reckon with.... Don’t stop to argue about it; neither of us have got time for that. I must go out and open the office and you must chase right up to Ezra Farmer’s house--Ezra’s the town clerk, probably you know him--and get the license or certificate or whatever is necessary.... Don’t talk! Don’t!” Bob did talk, of course, but not for long. Reliance’s sharp, to the point sentences convinced him that she was right. Gossip--a certain kind of gossip--would be smothered before it was uttered if he and Esther were married there and then, with her aunt as witness. And, if Esther was willing, surely he was. In a daze he listened to Miss Clark’s final instructions.