ne anything like this! He didn't! He
never had! Dear Heaven!

She began clenching and unclenching her hands dramatically, working
herself into that frenzy of emotion and regret which was her most
notable characteristic. All at once she stopped. There was another
letter in another handwriting on cheaper paper. "Ruby" was the
signature.

"Dear Eugene:"--she read--"I got your note several weeks ago, but I
couldn't bring myself to answer it before this. I know everything is
over between us and that is all right I suppose. It has to be. You
couldn't love any woman long, I think. I know what you say about having
to go to New York to broaden your field is true. You ought to, but I'm
sorry you didn't come out. You might have. Still I don't blame you,
Eugene. It isn't much different from what has been going on for some
time. I have cared, but I'll get over that, I know, and I won't ever
think hard of you. Won't you return me the notes I have sent you from
time to time, and my picture? You won't want them now.--Ruby."

"I stood by the window last night and looked out on the street. The moon
was shining and those dead trees were waving in the wind. I saw the moon
on that pool of water over in the field. It looked like silver. Oh,
Eugene, I wish that I were dead."

Angela got up (as Eugene had) when she read this. The pathos struck
home, for somehow it matched her own. Ruby! Who was she? Where had she
been concealed while she, Angela, was coming to Chicago? Was this the
fall and winter of their engagement? It certainly was. Look at the date.
He had given her the diamond ring on her finger that fall! He had sworn
eternal affection! He had sworn there was never another girl like her in
all the world and yet, at that very time, he was apparently paying
_court_ to this woman if nothing worse. Heaven! Could anything like this
really be? He was telling her that he loved her and making love to this
Ruby at the same time. He was kissing and fondling her and Ruby too!!
Was there ever such a situation? He, Eugene Witla, to deceive her this
way. No wonder he wanted to get rid of her when he came to New York. He
would have treated her as he had this Ruby. And Christina! This
Christina!! Where was she? Who was she? What was she doing now? She
jumped up prepared to go to Eugene and charge him with his iniquities,
but remembered that he was out of the studio--that he had gone for a
walk. He was sick now, very sick. Would she dare to reproach