nor intended to give Petty the note
at once, but when circumstances had prevented her from doing so for
several hours, she made up her mind to keep it in her own possession in
order to use it to Beverly's undoing. Just how this was to be compassed
she had no very clear idea, and _now_ had come a fine opening. She hated
Beverly because she had laughed at Petty's love affair, and ignored
completely the one who worshipped at Petty's shrine. The scene in
Professor Sautelle's room had nearly thrown Beverly into hysterics, and
Eleanor had also witnessed that. Oh, she had a long score against Beverly
Ashby.

That evening as Miss Woodhull sat by her study table reading a tap came
upon her door and Eleanor entered at the word "Come."

Miss Woodhull was not over-pleased at being interrupted in the midst of a
thrilling article on the Suffrage question and the militant doings of her
wronged sisters in England. "Well?" she queried crisply.

"I would like to speak to you, Miss Woodhull."

"Very well, speak," was the terse reply.

This was somewhat disconcerting. Eleanor coughed.

"Will you be good enough to state your errand without further peroration.
I do not relish being interrupted in my reading."

"I--I--thought I ought to tell you,--to show you--I mean you ought to see
this note which I found," and Eleanor crossed the room to Miss Woodhull's
side, the note held toward her.

She took it, asking as she did so: "Why come to me about so trivial a
matter? What is it? Where did you find it?"

"I didn't think it trivial and that is why I came right to you," Eleanor
replied, ignoring the embarrassing questions.

Miss Woodhull opened the note. The first line acted like a galvanic
shock. She sat up rigid as a lamp post. The words were "Darling Little
Sweetheart:--" Then she read on:

"When I close my eyes I can still feel your soft arms about my neck and
your kisses upon my lips. I can't wait much longer for you, darling.
Something must be done. I just can't stand it. I've got to see you before
Easter. It's no use to say I can't, because I'm going to--somehow. So
don't be surprised at anything. Leslie Manor is not so many miles away
and ways and means can be contrived in spite of all the old maid
guardians that ever lived. Wonder if the old lady knows how it feels to
have a man kiss her? I bet she don't! I've never seen your Suffragette
queen, but I don't need to after all you've told me about her. She must
be a cuckoo.

"