She had not seen Reliance at all during the week just past. As a matter of fact they did not see each other as frequently nowadays. There was no apparent reason for this--at least Esther could have given none. She would have fiercely resented the insinuation that her love for her aunt was not as deep and sincere as it had always been. Nevertheless--and Reliance was quite aware of it--during her second winter away from Harniss, when she returned for her week-end stays, she no longer hurried down to the Clark house the moment Saturday’s dinner was over. She came Sunday, provided the Clarks were not dining at the mansion, but her calls were shorter and she had always so many other things to do, so many new interests to occupy her time and her thoughts, that the conversation was likely to be confined to these topics. The heart-to-heart talks and intimate confidences and confessions were much rarer. Reliance noticed the change, of course, but she did not refer to it, nor hint at the heartache which, at times, she could not help feeling. It was what she had foreseen, had known must be the inevitable result of the complete change in the girl’s life. Esther had learned to love and trust her uncle, had become accustomed to wealth and what it gave her, had made new, and quite different friends, was now well on her way to the brilliant future Foster Townsend had planned for her. It was a natural development, that was all. Reliance fully realized this, had recognized it when they parted two years before. And not for worlds would she drop a word which might cause her niece unhappiness or a twinge of conscience. It was only when she was alone--or with Millard, which amounted to the same thing--that she occasionally permitted her thoughts to dwell upon the certainty that the widening gap between Esther and herself would widen more and more as the years passed. So when the young lady breezed into the little sitting-room that Sunday afternoon, expensively and becomingly gowned, her cheeks aglow and her eyes shining with excitement in prospect of her part in the concert and the praise which--to quote the Reverend Colton--“the best people” had already accorded her singing at the rehearsals, Reliance met her with the usual sunny smile and cheerful every day greeting. They talked of the gratifying sale of tickets--almost everybody in town was going, so Miss Clark said--and then the question of a suitable costume came up. “What do you think I had better wear, Auntie?” asked Esther. “Would you hire a costume in the city, if you were I? Mrs. Carter would pick one out for me, I know, if I wrote her. Or would it be better to use some of Grandmother Townsend’s things--those she wore when she was a girl? There is a lovely old figured silk in one of the chests in the garret. It doesn’t fit me very well, but it could be made to fit with a little alteration. I thought perhaps you and Abbie would help me make it over, if I decided to wear it. Will you?”