she cried.

But Cora drew away. "Now that's just what you mustn't do. I can't
stand it! You've got to be _quiet_. I can't----"

"Yes, yes," Laura said hurriedly. "I will. I'll do whatever you
say."

"It's perfectly simple: all I want you to do is to take charge of
my travelling-bag, and, when a messenger-boy comes, give it to him
without letting anybody know anything about it."

"But I've got to know where you're going--I can't let you go and
not----"

"Yes, you can! Besides, you've promised to. I'm not going to do
anything foolish ----"

"Then why not tell me?" Laura began. She went on, imploring Cora
to confide in her, entreating her to see their mother--to do a
dozen things altogether outside of Cora's plans.

"You're wasting your breath, Laura," said the younger sister,
interrupting, "and wasting my time. You're in the dark: you think
I'm going to run away with Val Corliss and you're wrong. I sent
him out of the house for good, a while ago----"

"Thank heaven for that!" cried Laura.

"I'm going to take care of myself," Cora went on rapidly. "I'm
going to get out of the mess I'm in, and you've got to let me do
it my own way. I'll send you a note from downtown. You see that
the messenger----"

She was at the door, but Laura caught her by the sleeve,
protesting and beseeching.

Cora turned desperately. "See here. I'll come back in two hours
and tell you all about it. If I promise that, will you promise to
send me the bag by the----"

"But if you're coming back you won't need----"

Cora spoke very quietly. "I'll go to pieces in a moment. Really, I
do think I'd better jump out of the window and have it over."

"I'll send the bag," Laura quavered, "if you'll promise to come
back in two hours."

"I promise!"

Cora gave her a quick embrace, a quick kiss, and, dry-eyed, ran
out of the room, down the stairs, and out of the house.

She walked briskly down Corliss Street. It was a clear day, bright
noon, with an exhilarating tang in the air, and a sky so glorious
that people outdoors were continually conscious of the blue
overhead, and looked up at it often. An autumnal cheerfulness was
abroad, and pedestrians showed it in their quickened steps, in
their enlivened eyes, and frequent smiles, and in the colour of
their faces. But none showed more colour or a gayer look than
Cora. She encountered many whom she knew, for it was indeed a day
to be stirring, and she nodded and smiled her way all down the
lon