around Spencer Morgan, and his case was well
discussed. Gossip said that the actress had jilted him and that he was
breaking his heart about it. Then came the rumour that he was going
West.

Estella heard it apathetically. Life seemed ended for her. There was
nothing to look forward to. She could not even look back. All the past
was embittered. She had never met Spencer since the night she went
after him. She sometimes wondered what he must think of her for what
she had done. Did he think her unwomanly and revengeful? She did not
care. It was rather a relief to hear that he was going away. She would
not be tortured by the fear of meeting him then. She was sure he would
never come back to her. If he did, she would never forgive him.

One evening in early harvest Estella was lingering by the lane gate at
twilight. She had worked slavishly all day and was very tired, but she
was loath to go into the house, where her trouble always seemed to
weigh on her more heavily. The dusk, sweet night seemed to soothe her
as it always did.

She leaned her head against the poplar by the gate. How long Spencer
Morgan had been standing by her she did not know, but when she looked
up he was there. In the dim light she could see how haggard and
hollow-eyed he had grown. He had changed almost as much as herself.

The girl's first proud impulse was to turn coldly away and leave him.
But some strange tumult in her heart kept her still. What had he come
to say?

There was a moment's fateful silence. Then Spencer spoke in a muffled
voice.

"I couldn't go away without seeing you once more, Estella, to say
good-bye. Perhaps you won't speak to me. You must hate me. I deserve
it."

He paused, but she said no word. She could not. After a space, he went
wistfully on.

"I know you can never forgive me--no girl could. I've behaved like a
fool. There isn't any excuse to be made for me. I don't think I could
have been in my right senses, Estella. It all seems like some bad
dream now. When I saw her that night, I came to my right mind, and
I've been the most miserable man alive ever since. Not for her--but
because I'd lost you. I can't bear to live here any longer, so I am
going away. Will you say good-bye, Estella?"

Still she did not speak. There were a hundred things she wanted to say
but she could not say them. Did he mean that he loved her still? If
she were sure of that, she could forgive him anything, but her doubt
rendered her mute.