“I don’t want to hurry you a bit,” she said. “Heaven knows I don’t! But it is almost ten o’clock and--well, if anybody should come here to-night, they had better not find you. It will be just as easy to explain after you have gone as before. You know what I mean, of course.” It was evident that they did. Griffin nodded. “I am perfectly willing to explain--to Captain Townsend or any one else,” he said, emphatically. “And so is Esther. We are not ashamed of what we have done.” Esther was looking at her aunt. She understood, perhaps even more clearly than did Bob, the thought in Reliance’s mind. She knew what sort of scene would follow Foster Townsend’s arrival. “Oh, Auntie,” she cried, distressfully, “this is terrible for you. If we go away before--before he comes--you will have to tell him, and he will blame you, and--and-- No, I can’t let you. I won’t. Bob and I will stay--and wait.” Reliance shook her head. “Indeed you will not wait,” she declared. “There is nothing to be gained by it. What is done is done, and nobody,” with a momentary smile, “even the great Panjamdrum of this part of creation can change it.... Besides,” she added, with a sudden shake in her voice, “I want _somethin’_ pleasant to remember when I think of this evenin’. I have seen you married, Esther, and I want to see you and--how queer it seems to say that--your husband leave this house happy. I don’t want to remember your leavin’ it in the middle of a fight. Don’t worry about me. The letter you have written your uncle will tell him almost everything and I shall tell him the rest.... There! Now you must go. Bob, go out and get your horse and buggy.” Bob went. When he reëntered the sitting-room, he found that Miss Clark had cleared a space on the center table and had placed thereon three plates, three glasses of milk, and a chocolate cake. “I almost forgot that you two hadn’t had a mouthful to eat since dinner,” she explained. “I haven’t either, but I’d forgotten that, too. I only wish I could offer you somethin’ worth while, but I haven’t got it and there isn’t time, anyway. I baked this cake yesterday. It is a real nice receipt, but I was in a hurry and it fell in the bakin’. I’m ashamed to give it to you, but it’s somethin’, anyhow.... Oh, I know you don’t feel like eatin’. Neither do I, so far as that goes. But I’ll eat a piece of your weddin’ cake if I choke with every swallow. So must you. Please!” So they ate a little of the cake and drank the milk. Then Reliance shooed them, as she had shooed the Reverend Barstow, out to the buggy which Bob had brought to the door. He shook hands with her. “I can’t thank you for what you have done, Miss Clark,” he began, “but--” She interrupted. “You can stop callin’ me Miss Clark,” she declared. “That’s one thing you can do. I’m your Aunt Reliance now, same as I am Esther’s, and I shan’t let you forget it. Take good care of her, won’t you? She’s a precious girl and you are a lucky young man.”