and how I have treated you both, who have been so very, very
kind to me, I feel--I can't tell you how I feel. You must not think me
ungrateful. You must not think of me at all. And you must not try to
find me, even if you should wish to do such a thing. I have the money
which I intended using for my new frocks and I shall use it to pay
my expenses and my fare to the place I am going. It is your money, of
course, and some day I shall send it to you. And someday, if I can,
I shall repay all that you have spent on my account. But you must not
follow me and you must not think of asking me to come back. That I shall
never do. I do thank you for all that you have done for me, both of you.
I cannot understand why you did it, but I shall always remember. Don't
worry about me. I know what I am going to do and I shall not starve or
be in want. Good-by. Please try to forget me.

"FRANCES MORLEY.

"Please tell Mr. Knowles that I am sorry for what I said to him this
afternoon and so many times before. How he could have been so kind and
patient I can't understand. I shall always remember it--always. Perhaps
he may forgive me some day. I shall try and hope that he may."

I read to the end. Then, without speaking, I looked at Hephzy. Her eyes
were brimming with tears.

"She has gone," she said, in answer to my unspoken question. "She must
have gone some time in the night. The man at the inn stable drove her
to the depot at Haddington on Hill. She took the early train for London.
That is all we know."

CHAPTER XIII

In Which Hephzy and I Agree to Live for Each Other

I shall condense the record of that day as much as possible. I should
omit it altogether, if I could. We tried to trace her, of course. That
is, I tried and Hephzy did not dissuade me, although she realized, I am
sure, the hopelessness of the quest. Frances had left the rectory very
early in the morning. The hostler at the inn had been much surprised to
find her awaiting him when he came down to the yard at five o'clock.
She was obliged to go to London, she said, and must take the very
first train: Would he drive her to Haddington on Hill at once? He did
so--probably she had offered him a great deal more than the regular
fare--and she had taken the train.

Questioning the hostler, who was a surly, uncommunicative lout, resulted
in my learning very little in addition to this. The young lady seemed
about as usual, so far as he could see. She might 'ave been