," said Sabrina.

"So you might; but the New York man went away that afternoon. 'Well,'
says he, before he went, 'that's my offer. Take it or leave it.'"

"But that's nothing to be mad about."

"We didn't stop there. I reminded Rich how far that money would go
towards building, and his jaw got set, and he said he couldn't help it.
Then I told him I'd be switched if ever I lived with his folks--"

"Oh, dear, dear!" lamented Sabrina. "You didn't say that, did you? Now
you mustn't, dear. You mustn't say things folks can't forget."

A gush of tears flooded the girl's cheeks.

"Oh, I didn't mean to!" she cried, in the bitterness of remembering a
battle lost. "He knew I didn't mean to. But I got sort of crazy,
Sabrina. I did. And I told him at last--" Her eyelids dropped under
their weight of tears.

"What did you tell him?"

"I told him he could choose between his folks and me."

"What did he say?"

"He said, 'I'll choose now. It's over.' He got up and walked out of the
room. He turned at the door. 'It's over, Clelia,' says he. 'Don't you
ever call me back, for I sha'n't come.' And he won't. He ain't that
kind."

"Oh, me! oh, me!" moaned Sabrina. She, too, knew he was not that kind.

They sat in silence for a moment, the girl looking straight before her
in a dull acquiescence, and Sabrina's pink face settled into aging
lines. Suddenly the girl spoke sharply.

"But I can't bear it, Sabrina, I can't bear it. It will kill me--if I
don't kill myself."

Sabrina rose slowly, and took a chair at the other window.

"Yes," said she, "you can bear it. Other folks have gone through it
before you, an' other folks will again. It's a kind of a sickness
there's goin' to be as long as the earth turns round. You've got to bear
it."

Her voice struck sharply, and Clelia, called momentarily out of herself,
glanced at her with a sudden interest. For the first time since their
intimacy, Sabrina looked her age.

Little fine lines seemed to have started out upon her cheeks and
forehead. Her eyes had the look of grief. But Clelia's thoughts went
back at once to her own trouble. She spoke gravely now, like an older
woman.

"It's not because we've quarreled, Sabrina. I'd say I was sorry this
minute. But he wouldn't take me back. It shows he don't care. If he'd
cared about me, he'd have thought 'twas a little thing; but he's chosen
between us, and he won't go back."

"Well," said Sabrina conclusively, "however it turns out, it