I cannot explain my extraordinary departure. I suppose I was in
such a nervous state that I was obsessed in some mysterious manner
and went off like a rocket. I can assure you I feel like a stick
this morning. You will forgive me, won't you? for you know that
although my affections do fluctuate for some people, they never do
for you.

Well! this morning I had a scene with papa. He was very angry,
talked about honour and all that sort of thing, said that I was an
unprincipled flirt, and that I expected too much of a man. But when
I said I could not understand how so perfect a man as himself could
wish his daughter to marry a rake, he never said another word, but
went off and wound up with Mr. Trennahan. I don't know what they
said to each other; I don't care. It's all too dreadful to think
about, and I never want to hear the subject mentioned again.

We're going to Monterey this afternoon to remain till the end of
the season, and then we'll go to the Blue Lakes for a little before
settling down for the winter. I'm tired of Menlo. Can't you come to
Monterey for a week or two? Do think about it. I haven't a minute
to go over to Fair Oaks to say good-bye, but perhaps you'll come to
the train. HELENA.

Magdalena got some luncheon from the pantry, then went to bed and slept
until six o'clock. At dinner Mr. Polk said to her,--

"I saw Trennahan this afternoon in a hack with a lot of luggage on
behind, and I stopped the driver and got in, and went to the ferry with
him. His engagement with Helena Belmont is broken, it seems, and he is
off for Samoa. Looked like the devil, but was as polite as ever, and
asked me to say good-bye to all of you."

Don Roberto looked up. "When he coming back?" he asked.

"You know as much about that as I do; or as he does, I guess. He told me
that he was going to explore the South Seas thoroughly, and that ought
to take as many years as he's got left, and more too."

It was two or three days before Magdalena realised what a relief it was
to have Trennahan out of the country. It moved him back among the
memories, and struck from her imagination agitating possibilities. And
he belonged to no woman! He could never be hers, but at least she could
love him. Already she had begun to do so with a measure of calm. She
could hide him in her soul and count him wholly hers; and the prospect
seemed far sweeter