, and then he will
suddenly grow tired and hard to control. Once or twice I have had to
call in Dr. Magruder, who owns the hospital.

"It has been terribly hard for me to write all this, but I had to do it,
in order that you might understand the situation completely. Hugh dear,
I simply can't leave him. This has been becoming clearer and clearer to
me all these weeks, but it breaks my heart to have to write it. I
have struggled against it, I have lain awake nights trying to find
justification for going to you, but it is stronger than I. I am afraid
of it--I suppose that's the truth. Even in those unforgettable days at
the farm I was afraid of it, although I did not know what it was to be.
Call it what you like, say that I am weak. I am willing to acknowledge
that it is weakness. I wish no credit for it, it gives me no glow, the
thought of it makes my heart sick. I'm not big enough I suppose that's
the real truth. I once might have been; but I'm not now,--the years of
the life I chose have made a coward of me. It's not a question of
morals or duty it's simply that I can't take the thing for which my soul
craves. It's too late. If I believed in prayer I'd pray that you might
pity and forgive me. I really can't expect you to understand what I
can't myself explain. Oh, I need pity--and I pity you, my dear. I can
only hope that you will not suffer as I shall, that you will find relief
away to work out your life. But I will not change my decision, I cannot
change it. Don't come on, don't attempt to see me now. I can't stand any
more than I am standing, I should lose my mind."

Here the letter was blotted, and some words scratched out. I was unable
to reconstruct them.

"Ralph and I," she proceeded irrelevantly, "have got Ham to agree to go
to Buzzard's Bay, and we have taken a house near Wareham. Write and tell
me that you forgive and pity me. I love you even more, if such a thing
is possible, than I have ever loved you. This is my only comfort and
compensation, that I have had and have been able to feel such a love,
and I know I shall always feel it.--Nancy." The first effect of this
letter was a paralyzing one. I was unable to realize or believe the
thing that had happened to me, and I sat stupidly holding the sheet
in my hand until I heard voices along the path, and then I fled
instinctively, like an animal, to hide my injury from any persons I
might meet. I wandered down the shore of the lake, striking at length
into t