won't care. I'll help you get along."

She listened until her misgivings vanished. He would show her about
a little and then help her get something. He really imagined that he
would. He would be out on the road and she could be working.

"Now, I'll tell you what you do," he said, "you go out there and get
whatever you want and come away."

She thought a long time about this. Finally she agreed. He would come
out as far as Peoria Street and wait for her. She was to meet him at
half-past eight. At half-past five she reached home, and at six her
determination was hardened.

"So you didn't get it?" said Minnie, referring to Carrie's story of the
Boston Store.

Carrie looked at her out of the corner of her eye. "No," she answered.

"I don't think you'd better try any more this fall," said Minnie.

Carrie said nothing.

When Hanson came home he wore the same inscrutable demeanour. He washed
in silence and went off to read his paper. At dinner Carrie felt a
little nervous. The strain of her own plans were considerable, and the
feeling that she was not welcome here was strong.

"Didn't find anything, eh?" said Hanson.

"No."

He turned to his eating again, the thought that it was a burden to have
her here dwelling in his mind. She would have to go home, that was all.
Once she was away, there would be no more coming back in the spring.

Carrie was afraid of what she was going to do, but she was relieved
to know that this condition was ending. They would not care. Hanson
particularly would be glad when she went. He would not care what became
of her.

After dinner she went into the bathroom, where they could not disturb
her, and wrote a little note.

"Good-bye, Minnie," it read. "I'm not going home. I'm going to stay
in Chicago a little while and look for work. Don't worry. I'll be all
right."

In the front room Hanson was reading his paper. As usual, she helped
Minnie clear away the dishes and straighten up. Then she said:

"I guess I'll stand down at the door a little while." She could scarcely
prevent her voice from trembling.

Minnie remembered Hanson's remonstrance.

"Sven doesn't think it looks good to stand down there," she said.

"Doesn't he?" said Carrie. "I won't do it any more after this."

She put on her hat and fidgeted around the table in the little bedroom,
wondering where to slip the note. Finally she put it under Minnie's
hair-brush.

When she had closed the hall-door, she paused a mome