lasting shore.

"_The Dispatch_ is the paper of Truth. All reformers--most
hypocrites--sing the same song. It seems the easiest thing in the world
to tell the truth. But I know there is nothing harder. And it's not
because truth frequently clashes with the human side of our
lives--though God knows that is hard enough--but because no one knows
what truth is.

"It's a struggle worthy of fine souls to _tell_ the truth. But it's a
far greater struggle to know what the truth is.

"It is that struggle, being the only precious thing I have, that I
bequeath to you.

"There is nothing more to say, I guess, save to wish you well. You will
doubtless marry the dominie. I used to hate him, very largely for that
fact. But now, as I lie here, on a cool, high mountain, far from the
blinding heat of passion (that's a good line, don't you think?) things
look differently. When he stood between you and me, he cast a monstrous
shadow. Now I see him for what he is. He's just a fellow-traveller on
the road I have tried to walk--on your side of it. May God give you both
all that I would have him give me.

"As my final request (this has been full of 'final requests,' hasn't
it!) I ask that you forget me as promptly and as thoroughly as you can.
My role in your life has been played. Let me get off the stage now, and
stay off for keeps.

"Forget me--the Fool. Remember, please, only the things I groped
for--the Angel. Good-bye."

* * * * *

For a long time Judith sat staring stonily at the irregular black lines,
wandering stormily, like the life of their author, over the tattered
paper. She fingered the envelope listlessly. It bore no address.

When the maid came to remove the breakfast things, she was dumfounded to
discover her mistress with her head in her hands, but quite silent.
Frightened, she withdrew quickly, to convey the strange intelligence
below stairs.

Upon her return, in obedience to the disgusted promptings of the cook,
who thought she was foolish ever to have left so interesting a scene,
she found Judith just rising from the table, very pale, but otherwise as
calm and self-contained as usual.

"I want the car at once," she said, a little huskily. And when the maid
hesitated stupidly, she added in a tone which was almost fierce, "At
once--do you hear?"

"I've never seen her look like that--never!" declared the maid when she
was safe below stairs again.

"There's things the likes o' yo