ook away,
and I know I should not be able to bear it. I am not
brave like that. Oh, every word I write must hurt you, I
know. Remember that I love you now and shall always.
Good-bye.--Your

"OLIVE."

"I should keep this."

"I am going to. Hilaire, did you know she was going? Did she tell
you?"

The older man answered quietly: "Yes, I knew, and I sent her to the
station in the motor. I had promised a strict neutrality, Jean, and
she was right to go. Some women, good women, may be strong enough to
bear all the suffering that is entailed upon them by a known
irregularity in their lives. She is not. It would probably have killed
her though I am not saying that she would not have been happy
sometimes, when she could forget her shame."

Jean flinched as though his brother had struck him. "Don't use that
word."

"Well, what else would it be? What else would the world call it? And
women listen to what the world says. 'Good name in man or woman is the
immediate jewel of their souls'; Othello said something like that, and
it's often true. Besides, you know, this woman is pure in herself, and
from what she told me I understand that she has seen something of the
seamy side of love lately--enough to inspire her with dread. She is
afraid, and her fear is exquisite; a very fine and rare thing. It is
the bloom on the fruit and should not be brushed off with an ungentle
hand. Poor child! Don't blame her as she blames herself or I shall
begin to think she is too good for you."

Jean sat leaning forward staring into the fire.

"Do you realise that when I brought her here it was from starvation in
a garret? Where is she going? What will she do? Oh, God! The poor
little slender body! Do you remember she said it was happiness just to
be warm and have enough to eat?"

"That's all right," Hilaire said hastily. "She is going to a good
woman, a friend she made in Siena. The letter you brought was from
her, and she wrote to say she had been ill and wished Olive could come
and be with her for a while."

"I see! And she was glad to get away."

"My dear man, did you really think she would be so easily won? She
loves you, and you not only made love to her yesterday afternoon; you
played to her--I heard you--and I knew she would have to say 'Yes' to
everything. Now she says 'No,' but you must not think she does not
care." Hilaire got up, came across to where his brother sat, and laid
a caressing han