d
what I lacked the courage to do. Of course it was best."

"You're awful good to say so, but I don't know. What'll come of it
goodness knows. When I think of you and--and--"

"Don't think of me. I'm going to be a man if I can--a quahaug, if
I can't. At least I'm not going to be what I have been for the last
month."

"I know. But when I think of to-morrow and what she'll say to me, then,
I--"

"You mustn't think. You must go to bed and so must I. To-morrow will
take care of itself. Come. Let's both sleep and forget it."

Which was the very best of advice, but, like much good advice,
impossible to follow. I did not sleep at all that night, nor did I
forget. God help me! I was realizing that I never could forget.

At six o'clock I came downstairs, made a pretence at eating some
biscuits and cheese which I found on the sideboard, scribbled a brief
note to Hephzy stating that I had gone for a walk and should not be back
to breakfast, and started out. The walk developed into a long one and
I did not return to the rectory until nearly eleven in the forenoon. By
that time I was in a better mood, more reconciled to the inevitable--or
I thought I was. I believed I could play the man, could even see her
married to Herbert Bayliss and still behave like a man. I vowed and
revowed it. No one--no one but Hephzy and I should ever know what we
knew.

Charlotte, the maid, seemed greatly relieved to see me. She hastened to
the drawing-room.

"Here he is, Miss Cahoon," she said. "He's come back, ma'am. He's here."

"Of course I'm here, Charlotte," I said. "You didn't suppose I had run
away, did you?... Why--why, Hephzy, what is the matter?"

For Hephzy was coming to meet me, her hands outstretched and on her face
an expression which I did not understand--sorrow, agitation--yes, and
pity--were in that expression, or so it seemed to me.

"Oh, Hosy!" she cried, "I'm so glad you've come. I wanted you so."

"Wanted me?" I repeated. "Why, what do you mean? Has anything happened?"

She nodded, solemnly.

"Yes," she said, "somethin' has happened. Somethin' we might have
expected, perhaps, but--but--Hosy, read that."

I took what she handed me. It was a sheet of note paper, folded across,
and with Hephzibah's name written upon one side. I recognized the
writing and, with a sinking heart, unfolded it. Upon the other side was
written in pencil this:

"I am going away. I could not stay, of course. When I think how I have
stayed