t on it, and
leaving the room, climbed the stairs. Nancy Ellen threw George Holt's
letter aside and snatched up John Jardine's. She read:

MY DEREST KATE: I am a day late with this becos as I told you I have
no schooling and in writing a letter is where I prove it, so I never
write them, but it was not fare to you for you not to know what kind of
a letter I would write if I did write one, so here it is very bad no
dout but the best I can possably do which has got nothing at all to do
with my pashion for you and the aughful time I will have till I here
from you. If you can stand for this telagraf me and I will come first
train and we will forget this and I will never write another letter.
With derest love from Mother, and from me all the love of my hart.
Forever yours only, JOHN JARDINE.

The writing would have been a discredit to a ten-year-old schoolboy.
Nancy Ellen threw the letter back on the floor; with a stiffly extended
finger, she poked it into the position in which she thought she had
found it, and slowly stepped back.

"Great God!" she said amazedly. "What does the man mean? Where does
that dainty and wonderful little mother come in? She must be a regular
parasite, to take such ease and comfort for herself out of him, and not
see that he had time and chance to do better than THAT for himself.
Kate will never endure it, never in the world! And by the luck of the
very Devil, there comes that school-proof thing in the same mail, from
that abominable George Holt, and Kate reads it FIRST. It's too bad! I
can't believe it! What did his mother mean?"

Suddenly Nancy Ellen began to cry bitterly; between sobs she could hear
Kate as she walked from closet and bureau to her trunk which she was
packing. The lid slammed heavily and a few minutes later Kate entered
the room dressed for the street.

"Why are you weeping?" she asked casually.

Her eyes were flaming, her cheeks scarlet, and her lips twitching.
Nancy Ellen sat up and looked at her. She pointed to the letter: "I
read that," she said.

"Well, what do I care?" said Kate. "If he has no more respect for me
than to write me such an insult as that, why should I have the respect
for him to protect him in it? Publish it in the paper if you want to."

"Kate, what are you going to do?" demanded Nancy Ellen.

"Three things," said Kate, slowly putting on her long silk gloves.
"First, I'm going to telegraph John Jardine that I never shall see him