o have voluntarily committed such
an act even in the last extremity. But what _they_ will think of my
appearance at your door last night, I don't know and I dare not surmise.
I have done all I could; I have rid them of me, and I have written to
your sister to thank her and your family for their very real kindness to
the last woman in the world whom they would have willingly chosen to
receive and entertain.

"Dear, I didn't know I had nerves; but this experience seems to have
developed them. I am perfectly well, but the country here has become
distasteful to me, and I am going to town in a few minutes. I want to
get away--I want to go back to my work--earn my living again--live in
blessed self-respect where, as a worker, I have the right to live.

"Dearest, I am sorry about not meeting you at the station and going back
to town with you. But I simply cannot endure staying here after last
night. I suppose it is weak and silly of me, but I feel now as though
your family would never be perfectly tranquil again until I am out of
their immediate vicinity. I cannot convey to you or to them how sorry
and how distressed I am that this thing has occurred.

"But I can, perhaps, make you understand that I love you, dearly--love
you enough to give myself to you--love you enough to give you up
forever.

"And it is to consider what is best, what to do, that I am going away
quietly somewhere by myself to think it all out once more--and to come
to a final decision before the first of June.

"I want to search my heart, and let God search it for any secret
selfishness and unworthiness that might sway me in my choice--any
overmastering love for you that might blind me. When I know myself, you
shall know me. Until then I shall not write you; but sometime before the
first of June--or on that day, you shall know and I shall know how I
have decided wherein I may best serve you--whether by giving or
withholding--whether by accepting or refusing forever all that I care
for in the world--you, Louis, and the love you have given me.

"VALERIE WEST."

She sealed and directed this, laid it beside the other, and summoned the
maid:

"Have these sent at once to Ashuelyn," she said; "let Jimmy go on his
bicycle. Are my things ready? Is the buck-board still there? Then I will
leave a note for the Countess."

And she scribbled hastily:

"HELENE DEAR: I've got to go to town in a hurry on matters of
importance, and so I am taking a very unceremon