that she had given him permission to call, not this evening but the next, to say good-by before leaving for the West.  He would be disappointed, poor fellow.  Well, she must not think of that.  She must not permit herself to think of anyone but her uncles or of anything except the great debt of love and gratitude she owed them and of the sacrifice they had made for her.  She could repay a little of that sacrifice now; at least she could try.  She would think of that and of nothing else.

And then she wondered what Crawford would think or say when he found she had gone.

CHAPTER XVIII

The main street of South Harniss looked natural enough as the motor car buzzed along it.  It was but a few months since Mary had been there, yet it seemed ever so much more.  She felt so much older than on those Christmas holidays.  When the store of Hamilton and Company came in sight she sank down on the back seat in order not to be seen.  She knew her uncles were, in all probability, there at the store, and she wished to see Isaiah and talk with him before meeting them.

Isaiah was in the kitchen by the cookstove when she opened the door.  He turned, saw her, and stood petrified.  Mary entered and closed the door behind her.  By that time Mr. Chase had recovered sufficiently from his ossification to speak.

“Eh—­eh—­by time!” he gasped.  “I snum if it ain’t you!”

Mary nodded.  “Isaiah,” she asked quickly, “are you alone?  Are my uncles, both of them, at the store?”

But the cook and steward had not yet completely got over the effect of the surprise.  He still stared at her.

“It is you, ain’t it!” he stammered.  “I—­I—­by time, I do believe you’ve come home, same as I asked you to.”

“Of course I’ve come home.  How in the world could I be here if I hadn’t?  Don’t stare at me like that, with your mouth open like a—­like a codfish.  Tell me, are Uncle Shad and Uncle Zoeth at the store?”

“Eh—­Yes, I cal’late they be.  Ain’t neither of ’em come home to dinner yet.  I’m expectin’ one of ’em ’most any minute.  I’ll run up and fetch ’em.  Say!  How in the nation did you get here this time of day?”

“I shall tell you by and by.  No, I don’t want you to get my uncles.  I want to talk with you alone first.  Now, Isaiah, sit down!  Sit down in that chair.  I want you to tell me just how bad things are.  Tell me everything, all you know about it, and don’t try to make the situation better than it is.  And please hurry!”

Isaiah, bewildered but obedient, sat down.  The command to hurry had the effect of making him so nervous that, although he talked enough to have described the most complicated situation, his ideas were badly snarled and Mary had to keep interrupting in order to untangle them.  And, after all, what he had to tell was not very definite.  Business was bad at the store; that was plain to everyone in town.  “All hands” were trading at the new stores where prices were lower, stocks bigger and more up-to-date, and selling methods far, far in advance of those of Hamilton and Company.