The parting with Esther was harder for them both. Reliance tried her best to make it cheerful. “There, there, dearie,” she said, as Esther sobbed on her shoulder, “don’t cry--don’t cry. You have done the right thing, you’ve got a good husband and I know you are goin’ to be happy. Write to me often, won’t you? Just as soon as you get to Boston and again as soon as you know what your plans are. And be sure and tell me where to write you.... Now don’t cry any more.” Bob helped his wife into the buggy. From its seat she leaned down for a final word. “Auntie,” she begged, “you will tell Uncle Foster why I did this, won’t you? You will tell him I _do_ love him and--” “Yes, yes. I’ll tell him everything. And I’ll see that he gets your letter.... Good-by. God bless you both.... Be sure and write me to-morrow from Boston.... Good-by.” The buggy rolled out of the yard. She stood there, looking and listening. She heard Bob get down, open the big gate, close it behind the carriage. Then the sound of the horse’s hoofs moved off up the road. Reliance waited until the sound died away. Then she turned and reëntered the sitting-room. Sitting down in the rocker, she laid her arms upon the center table, beside the empty glasses and the plate of cake, dropped her head upon them--and wept. CHAPTER XXII She did not sit there long. For a few minutes only she permitted herself the luxury of tears. Then she rose, cleared away the remains of the impromptu wedding feast, hastened out to the kitchen, bathed her face in the cold water from the pump, dried it on the roller towel, patted her hair into place, and returned to the sitting-room. There was another interview in store for her that night, she was sure of it, and it was likely to be the hardest trial of all. She must be ready. So she sat down again in the rocker and tried to plan exactly what she should say to Foster Townsend when he came, demanding his niece. She had been sitting there for perhaps twenty minutes when she heard his step upon the walk. She did not wait for him to knock, but opened the door at once. “Come in, Foster,” she said. He did not bid her good evening, nor did he speak until he had crossed the threshold. He glanced about him, strode to the door of the room adjoining, looked in there, and turned back. “Where is she?” he asked, sharply. Reliance faced him bravely. “She isn’t here, Foster,” she replied. “Bosh! Of course she is here. Come, come! don’t fool with me. Where is she?” “I am not fooling, Foster. Esther isn’t here. She has been here, but she has gone.” He stared at her. The expression upon her face caught and held his attention. He took a step toward her. “Gone!” he repeated. “Gone where?... What do you mean?” “I am goin’ to tell you what I mean. There is a lot to tell. Foster, I-- Oh, dear!” desperately, “I don’t know where to begin. This is harder even than I thought it was goin’ to be. Foster, you must be patient.”