permost on the cover of "Gladys the Singer," the book of poems which
was in its usual place on his own reading table. In another second he
seized it--he unwound the slight gold chain--he opened the little volume
tremblingly. Yes!--there was a letter within its pages addressed to
himself,--now, now he should know all! He tore it open with feverish
haste--two folded sheets of paper fell out,--one was his own epistle to
Violet Vere, and this, to his consternation, he perceived first. Full of
a sudden misgiving he laid it aside, and began to read Thelma's parting
words.

"My darling boy," she wrote--

"A friend of yours and mine brought me the enclosed letter and
though, perhaps, it was wrong of me to read it, I hope you will
forgive me for having done so. I do not quite understand it, and I
cannot bear to think about it--but it seems that you are tired of
your poor Thelma! I do not blame you, dearest, for I am sure that in
some way or other the fault is mine, and it does grieve me so much
to think you are unhappy! I know that I am very ignorant of many
things, and that I am not suited to this London life--and I fear I
shall never understand its ways. But one thing I can do, and that is
to let you be free, my Philip--quite free! And so I am going back to
the Altenfjord, where I will stay till you want me again, if you
ever do. My heart is yours and I shall always love you till I die,--
and though it seems to me just now better that we should part, to
give you greater ease and pleasure, still you must always remember
that I have no reproaches to make to you. I am only sorry to think
my love has wearied you,--for you have been all goodness and
tenderness to me. And so that people shall not talk about me or you,
you will simply say to them that I have gone to see my father, and
they will think nothing strange in that. Be kind to Britta,--I have
told her nothing, as it would only make her miserable. Do not be
angry that I go away--I cannot bear to stay here, knowing all. And
so, good-bye, my love, my dearest one!--if you were to love many
women more than me, I still should love you best--I still would
gladly die to serve you. Remember this always,--that, however long
we may be parted, and though all the world should come between us, I
am, and ever shall be your faithful wife,"
"THELMA."

The ejaculation that broke from Errington's lips as he finished reading
this