But mayn't I come down and see you?
I can start West the day after tomorrow just as well and that would give
me time--"

"No, Crawford, no. You mustn't come."

"I've a good mind to, whether or no."

"If you do I shall not see you--then or at any other time. But you
won't, will you?"

"No, Mary, I won't. It's mighty hard, though."

Perhaps it was quite as hard for her, but she did not reply.

"Will you write me--every day?" he went on. . . . "Why don't you
answer?"

"I was thinking what would be best for me to do," she said; "best for us
both, I mean. I shall write you one letter surely."

"ONE!"

"One surely. I want you to understand just what my coming here means and
what effect it may have upon my future. You should know that. Afterward,
whether I write you or not will depend."

"Depend! Of course you'll write me! Depend on what?"

"On what seems right to me after I have had time to think, and after you
have seen your father. I must go, Crawford. Thank you for calling me. I
am glad you did. Good-by."

"Wait! Mary, don't go! Let me say this--"

"Please, Crawford! I'd rather you wouldn't say any more. You understand
why, I'm sure. I hope you will have a pleasant trip home and find your
father's health much improved. Good-by."

She hung up the receiver and hastened back to the store. Shadrach and
Zoeth looked at her questioningly. Finally the former said:

"Anything important, was it?"

"No, Uncle Shad, not very important."

"Oh!"

A short interval of silence, then--

"Mrs. Wyeth callin', I presume likely, eh?"

"No, Uncle Shad."

Shadrach asked no more questions, and Zoeth asked none. Neither of
them again mentioned Mary's call to the phone, either to her or to each
other. And she did not refer to it. She had promised her Uncle Shadrach,
when he questioned her the year before concerning Crawford, to tell him
"when there was anything to tell." But was there anything to tell now?
With the task which she had set herself and the uncertainty before her
she felt that there was not. Yet to keep silence troubled her. Until
recently there had never been a secret between her uncles and herself;
now there were secrets on both sides.

CHAPTER XIX

At twelve o'clock on a night late in the following week Captain
Shadrach, snoring gloriously in his bed, was awakened by his partner's
entering the room bearing a lighted lamp. The Captain blinked, raised
himself on his elbow, looked at his watch w