rture even more terrible
than it had once been. I didn't blame Gilbert. I felt he was right.
And he had been very good--he said that if, in view of the expense and
uncertainty of the operation, I should decide not to risk it, he would
not blame me in the least. But I knew how I ought to decide--and I
couldn't face it. All night I walked the floor like a mad woman,
trying to compel myself to face it. I couldn't, Anne--I thought I
couldn't--and when morning broke I set my teeth and resolved that I
WOULDN'T. I would let things remain as they were. It was very wicked,
I know. It would have been just punishment for such wickedness if I
had just been left to abide by that decision. I kept to it all day.
That afternoon I had to go up to the Glen to do some shopping. It was
one of Dick's quiet, drowsy days, so I left him alone. I was gone a
little longer than I had expected, and he missed me. He felt lonely.
And when I got home, he ran to meet me just like a child, with such a
pleased smile on his face. Somehow, Anne, I just gave way then. That
smile on his poor vacant face was more than I could endure. I felt as
if I were denying a child the chance to grow and develop. I knew that
I must give him his chance, no matter what the consequences might be.
So I came over and told Gilbert. Oh, Anne, you must have thought me
hateful in those weeks before I went away. I didn't mean to be--but I
couldn't think of anything except what I had to do, and everything and
everybody about me were like shadows."

"I know--I understood, Leslie. And now it is all over--your chain is
broken--there is no cage."

"There is no cage," repeated Leslie absently, plucking at the fringing
grasses with her slender, brown hands. "But--it doesn't seem as if
there were anything else, Anne. You--you remember what I told you of
my folly that night on the sand-bar? I find one doesn't get over being
a fool very quickly. Sometimes I think there are people who are fools
forever. And to be a fool--of that kind--is almost as bad as being
a--a dog on a chain."

"You will feel very differently after you get over being tired and
bewildered," said Anne, who, knowing a certain thing that Leslie did
not know, did not feel herself called upon to waste overmuch sympathy.

Leslie laid her splendid golden head against Anne's knee.

"Anyhow, I have YOU," she said. "Life can't be altogether empty with
such a friend. Anne, pat my head--just as if I we