I know that you will hate me. I cannot even
ask you to forgive me. You will let me pray that you may yet be
happy.--A. C."

She read these few words, still leaning against the bed. Then she
got up, and walking to a chair, seated herself with her back to her
mother. Mrs Dale moving silently after her stood over the back of the
chair, not daring to speak to her. So she sat for some five minutes,
with her eyes fixed upon the open window, and with Crosbie's note in
her hand.

"I will not hate him, and I do forgive him," she said at last,
struggling to command her voice, and hardly showing that she could
not altogether succeed in her attempt. "I may not write to him
again, but you shall write and tell him so. Now we will go down to
breakfast." And so saying, she got up from her chair.

Mrs Dale almost feared to speak to her, her composure was so
complete, and her manner so stern and fixed. She hardly knew how to
offer pity and sympathy, seeing that pity seemed to be so little
necessary, and that even sympathy was not demanded. And she could not
understand all that Lily had said. What had she meant by the offer to
release him? Had there, then, been some quarrel between them before
he went? Crosbie had made no such allusion in his letter. But Mrs
Dale did not dare to ask any questions.

"You frighten me, Lily," she said. "Your very calmness frightens me."

"Dear mamma!" and the poor girl absolutely smiled a she embraced her
mother. "You need not be frightened by my calmness. I know the truth
well. I have been very unfortunate;--very. The brightest hopes of
my life are all gone;--and I shall never again see him whom I love
beyond all the world!" Then at last she broke down, and wept in her
mother's arms.

There was not a word of anger spoken then against him who had done
all this. Mrs Dale felt that she did not dare to speak in anger
against him, and words of anger were not likely to come from poor
Lily. She, indeed, hitherto did not know the whole of his offence,
for she had not read his letter.

"Give it me, mamma," she said at last. "It has to be done sooner or
later."

"Not now, Lily. I have told you all--all that you need know at
present."

"Yes; now, mamma," and again that sweet silvery voice became stern.
"I will read it now, and there shall be an end." Whereupon Mrs Dale
gave her the letter and she read it in silence. Her mother, though
standing somewhat behind her, watched her narrowly as she did so. She