d about
the world, that it must be--But if it isn't, all the better. If it's Mr.
Hinkle that you can have--"

"I'm not sure I can. I should like to tell you just how it is, and then
you will know." It needed fewer words for this than she expected, and
then Clementina took a letter from her pocket, and gave it to Miss
Milray. "He wrote it on the train, going away, and it's not very plain;
but I guess you can make it out."

Miss Milray received the penciled leaves, which seemed to be pages torn
out of a note-book. They were dated the day Hinkle left Venice, and the
envelope bore the postmark of Verona. They were not addressed, but began
abruptly: "I believe I have made a mistake; I ought not to have given you
up till I knew something that no one but you can tell me. You are not
bound to any body unless you wish to be so. That is what I see now, and I
will not give you up if I can help it. Even if you had made a promise,
and then changed your mind, you would not be bound in such a thing as
this. I say this, and I know you will not believe I say it because I want
you. I do want you, but I would not urge you to break your faith. I only
ask you to realize that if you kept your word when your heart had gone
out of it, you would be breaking your faith; and if you broke your word
you would be keeping your faith. But if your heart is still in your word,
I have no more to say. Nobody knows but you. I would get out and take the
first train back to Venice if it were not for two things. I know it would
be hard on me; and I am afraid it might be hard on you. But if you will
write me a line at Milan, when you get this, or if you will write to me
at London before July; or at New York at any time--for I expect to wait
as long as I live--"

The letter ended here in the local addresses which the writer gave.

Miss Milray handed the leaves back to Clementina, who put them into her
pocket, and apparently waited for her questions.

"And have you written?"

"No," said the girl, slowly and thoughtfully, "I haven't. I wanted to, at
fust; and then, I thought that if he truly meant what he said he would be
willing to wait."

"And why did you want to wait?"

Clementina replied with a question of her own. "Miss Milray, what do you
think about Mr. Gregory?"

"Oh, you mustn't ask me that, my dear! I was afraid I had told you too
plainly, the last time."

"I don't mean about his letting me think he didn't ca'e for me, so long.
But don't yo