. Nora rose and began
to busy herself with her packing. Fortunately her wardrobe was small.
She had no idea how long she had been lying on the bed.

She had just folded the last garment and was about to close the lid of
her trunk, when there came a knock at the door.

"Who is it?"

"It's me," said Frank's voice. "The team is at the door. Are you ready?"

For reply, Nora threw open the door and pointed to her box.

"I have only to put on my hat. Will you be good enough to fasten that
for me? Here is the key."

While he knelt on the floor, locking and strapping it, she gave a
careful look at herself in the mirror, while putting on her hat. She
congratulated herself that she had not been crying. Aside from the fact
that she looked pale and tired, there was nothing in her face to suggest
that she had had a crisis of the nerves: certainly no look of defeat for
Gertie to gloat over. Would they all be there to witness her retreat?
Well, let them: no one could say that she had not gone out with flying
colors. She turned, with a smile to meet Frank's gaze.

"That's right," he said approvingly. "You look fine. Say," he added,
"I'm afraid I'll have to have Reggie up to give me a lift with this
trunk of yours. I don't know what you can have in it unless it's a
stove, and we've got one at home already. It'll be all right once I get
it on my back."

He had taken just the right tone. His easy reference to 'home' and to
their common possession of even so humble a piece of furniture as a
stove, as if they were an old married couple returning home after paying
a visit, had a restorative effect on nerves still a little jangly. That
was the only way to look at it: In a thoroughly commonplace manner. As
he had said himself, it was a business undertaking. She gave a perfectly
natural little laugh.

"No, I haven't a stove; only a few books. I didn't realize how heavy
they were. I'm sorry."

"I'm not," he said heartily. "You can read to me evenings. I guess a
little more book-learning'll polish me up a bit and I'll be right glad
of the chance. You're not afraid to stand at the horses' heads, are you,
while Reg runs up here?"

"No, of course not."

She could hear Gertie in the pantry as she crossed the living-room. She
was grateful to her for not coming out to make any show of leave-taking.
Having sent Reggie on his errand, she stood stroking the horses' soft
noses while waiting for the men to return. Just as they reached the
do