Olivia had packed it in the night.

There was no one else in the room when Rebecca Mary made her
disappointing little discovery. She went over to the plump valise
and prodded it gently with her finger. But it is so difficult to
tell in that way whether your own best dress, your own best hat,
best shoes, best gloves, are in there. Rebecca Mary hurried
upstairs and looked in her closet and in her "best" bureau
drawer.

They were not there! In her relief she caught up the beautiful
being and strained her hard, lifeless little body to her own warm
breast. If she had not been Rebecca Mary, she would have danced
about the room.

"Oh, I'm so relieved, Olivicia!" she laughed, softly. "If they're
not up here, THEY'RE DOWN THERE. They've got to be somewhere.
They're in that valise--valise--vali-i-ise!"

Rebecca Mary had never been to a city, and within her remembrance
Aunt Olivia had never been. Curiosity was not a Plummer trait,
hence Rebecca Mary had never asked many questions about the
remote period before her own advent into Aunt Olivia's life. The
same Plummer restraint kept her now from asking questions. There
was nothing to do but wait, but the waiting was illumined by her
joyous anticipations.

Oddly enough, Aunt Olivia seemed to have no anticipations--at
least joyous ones. Her, thin, grave face may even have looked a
little thinner and graver, IF Rebecca Mary had thought to