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“All fugitives on the coast must put to sea. The Oakland ferry would have answered my purpose. I would never have been seen with him in the city–alive.

“But at Colfax we met your husband. He knows–you know–the rest.”

* * * * *

In thinking of the one who had first pitied her, pity for herself overcame her, and the proud penitent broke down.

Mr. and Mrs. Thorne sat in the shy silence of older persons who are past the age of demonstrative sympathy. The girl rose, and as she passed her hostess she put out her hand. Mrs. Thorne took it quickly and followed her. They found a seat by themselves in a dark corner of the porch.

“Your poor, good husband–how tired he is! How patiently you have listened, and what does it all come to?”

“Think of yourself, not of us,” said Mrs. Thorne.

“Oh, it’s all over for me. I have had my fight. But you have him to grieve for.”

“Shall you not grieve for him yourself a little?”

The girl sat up quickly.

“If you mean do I give him up without a struggle–I do not. But you need not say that to him. I told him that it was all a mistake; I did not–do not love him.”

“How could you say that”–

“It was necessary. Without that I should have been leaving it to his generosity. Now it remains only to show him how little he has lost.”

“But could you not have done that without belying yourself? You do–surely you still care for him a little?”

“Insatiate mother! Is there any other proof I can give?”

“Your hand is icy cold.”

“And my face is burning hot. Good-night. May I say, ‘Now let thy servant depart in peace’?”

“I shall not know how to let you go to-morrow, and I do not see, myself, why you should go.”

“You will–after I am gone.”

“My dear, are you crying? I cannot see you. How cruel we have been, to sit and let you turn your life out for our inspection!”

“It was a free exhibition! No one asked me, and I did not even come prepared, more than seven years’ study of my own case has prepared me.

“I was a child; but the fault was mine. I should have been allowed to suffer for it in the natural way. No good ever comes of skulking. But they hurried me off to Europe, and began a cowardly system of concealment. They made me almost forget my own misconduct in shame for the things they did by way of covering it up. My mother never took me in her arms and cried over my disgrace. She would not speak of it, or allow me to speak. Not a word nor an admission; the thing must be as though it had never been!

“They ruined Dick Malaby with their hush-money. They might better have shot him, but that would have made talk. My father died with only servants around him. Mama could not go to him. She was too busy covering my retreat. Oh, she kept a gallant front! I admired her, I pitied her, but I loathed her policy. Does not every girl know when she has been dedicated to the great god Success, and what the end of success must be?

“I told mama at last that if she would bring men to propose to me I should tell them the truth. Does Lord So-and-so wish to marry a girl who ran away with her father’s groom? That was the breach between us. She has thrown herself into it. She is going to marry a title herself, not to let it go out of the family. Have you not heard of the engagement? She is to be a countess, and the property is controlled by her, so now I have an excuse for doing something.”