ow thoroughly aroused, and she kept
silent.

"I ought to have explained," he went on smilingly; "but you are quite
right, Mrs. Baker," he added, nodding towards the bag. "As far as you
knew, I had no business to go near it. Glad to see you know how to
defend Uncle Sam's property so well. I was only a bit puzzled to
know" (pointing to the wire) "if that thing was on the bag when it was
delivered to you?"

Mrs. Baker saw no reason to conceal the truth. After all, this official
was a man like the others, and it was just as well that he should
understand her power. "It's only the expressman's foolishness," she
said, with a slightly coquettish toss of her head. "He thinks it smart
to tie some nonsense on that bag with the wire when he flings it down."

Mr. Home, with his eyes on her pretty face, seemed to think it a not
inhuman or unpardonable folly. "As long as he doesn't meddle with
the inside of the bag, I suppose you must put up with it," he said
laughingly. A dreadful recollection, that the Hickory Hill postmaster
had used the inside of the bag to convey HIS foolishness, came across
her. It would never do to confess it now. Her face must have shown
some agitation, for the official resumed with a half-paternal,
half-reassuring air: "But enough of this. Now, Mrs. Baker, to come to
my business here. Briefly, then, it doesn't concern you in the least,
except so far as it may relieve you and some others, whom the Department
knows equally well, from a certain responsibility, and, perhaps,
anxiety. We are pretty well posted down there in all that concerns
Laurel Run, and I think" (with a slight bow) "we've known all about you
and John Baker. My only business here is to take your place to-night
in receiving the 'Omnibus Way Bag,' that you know arrives here at 9.30,
doesn't it?"

"Yes, sir," said Mrs. Baker hurriedly; "but it never has anything for
us, except"--(she caught herself up quickly, with a stammer, as
she remembered the sighing Green's occasional offerings) "except a
notification from Hickory Hill post-office. It leaves there," she went
on with an affectation of precision, "at half past eight exactly, and
it's about an hour's run--seven miles by road."

"Exactly," said Mr. Home. "Well, I will receive the bag, open it, and
dispatch it again. You can, if you choose, take a holiday."

"But," said Mrs. Baker, as she remembered that Laurel Run always made a
point of attending her evening levee on account of the super