“Mother! Are you awake?”

“Yes, dear.”

“There’s someone knocking—”

“I’m getting up.”

The knocking continued.

“Hey there, Nan!” called out Ted. “Get up and answer that noise. See what your old sale did! Wake us all up—”

“Ted, hush! Be quiet, Mother’s going down—”

“You ought to go. It’s your bargain day.”

As usual Ted was charging Nancy with delinquency. He wasn’t really quarreling, but just talking, as Nancy defined it. Mrs. Brandon had been dressing when the early knock first sounded, so that she was able to get down stairs almost directly afterward.

A dread, a sort of feeling that something might happen in regard to that expensive outlay of goods left by the travelling salesman, seized Nancy. She crept to the top of the stairs to listen, but all she could hear was a man’s voice; his words were lost behind the closed doors.

She ventured down to the second landing. Her mother was chatting pleasantly with whoever the early visitor might be, and at the sound Nancy’s spirits rose.

“He’s no collector,” she decided, turning quickly back to her room and starting at once to dress. She must be ready early. All signs pointed to an early patronage, and although Ted had declared he would be up at daybreak, it was all right, Nancy concluded, for him to sleep until seven o’clock.

Her mother was calling in a subdued voice.

“Nancy, I’ll get breakfast now, as I hear you stirring,” she said. “I want to leave things ready for your lunch today, so I came down early.”

“All right, Mother,” Nancy replied over the balustrade. “I’ll be down soon. Who called?”

“Is Ted awake?” Mrs. Brandon was still restraining her voice.

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