ink the thing for you to do is----" He
took out his watch, examined it, replaced it--"Good Lord!" he said.
"It is three o'clock!"

She watched him but offered no comment. He went to the telephone,
called the New York Central Station, got General Information, inquired
concerning trains, hung up, and came back to the desk where he had
been sitting.

"The first train out leaves at six three," he said. "I think you'd
better go into my bedroom and lie down. I'm not tired; I'll call you
in time, and I'll get a taxi and take you to your train. Does that
suit you, Ruhannah?"

She shook her head slightly.

"Why not?" he asked.

"I've been thinking. I can't go back."

"Can't go back! Why not?"

"I can't."

"You mean you'd feel too deeply humiliated?"

"I wasn't thinking of my own disgrace. I was thinking of mother and
father." There was no trace of emotion in her voice; she stated the
fact calmly.

"I can't go back to Brookhollow. It's ended. I couldn't bear to let
them know what has happened to me."

"What did you think of doing?" he asked uneasily.

"I must think of mother--I must keep my disgrace from touching
them--spare them the sorrow--humiliation----" Her voice became
tremulous, but she turned around and sat up in her chair, meeting his
gaze squarely. "That's as far as I have thought," she said.

Both remained silent for a long while. Then Ruhannah looked up from
her pale preoccupation:

"I told you I had three thousand dollars. Why can't I educate myself
in art with that? Why can't I learn how to support myself by art?"

"Where?"

"Here."

"Yes. But what are you going to say to your parents when you write?
They suppose you are on your way to Paris."

She nodded, looking at him thoughtfully.

"By the way," he added, "is your trunk on board the _Lusitania_?"

"Yes."

"That won't do! Have you the check for it?"

"Yes, in my purse."

"We've got to get that trunk off the ship," he said. "There's only one
sure way. I'd better go down now, to the pier. Where's your steamer
ticket?"

"I--I have _both_ tickets and both checks in my bag. He--let me have
the p-pleasure of carrying them----" Again her voice broke childishly,
but the threatened emotion was strangled and resolutely choked back.

"Give me the tickets and checks," he said. "I'll go down to the dock
now."

She drew out the papers, sat holding them for a few moments without
relinquishing them. Then she raised her eyes to his, and a bri