At six o'clock I came downstairs, made a pretence at eating some biscuits and cheese which I found on the sideboard, scribbled a brief note to Hephzy stating that I had gone for a walk and should not be back to breakfast, and started out. The walk developed into a long one and I did not return to the rectory until nearly eleven in the forenoon. By that time I was in a better mood, more reconciled to the inevitable--or I thought I was. I believed I could play the man, could even see her married to Herbert Bayliss and still behave like a man. I vowed and revowed it. No one--no one but Hephzy and I should ever know what we knew. Charlotte, the maid, seemed greatly relieved to see me. She hastened to the drawing-room. “Here he is, Miss Cahoon,” she said. “He's come back, ma'am. He's here.” “Of course I'm here, Charlotte,” I said. “You didn't suppose I had run away, did you?... Why--why, Hephzy, what is the matter?” For Hephzy was coming to meet me, her hands outstretched and on her face an expression which I did not understand--sorrow, agitation--yes, and pity--were in that expression, or so it seemed to me. “Oh, Hosy!” she cried, “I'm so glad you've come. I wanted you so.” “Wanted me?” I repeated. “Why, what do you mean? Has anything happened?” She nodded, solemnly. “Yes,” she said, “somethin' has happened. Somethin' we might have expected, perhaps, but--but--Hosy, read that.” I took what she handed me. It was a sheet of note paper, folded across, and with Hephzibah's name written upon one side. I recognized the writing and, with a sinking heart, unfolded it. Upon the other side was written in pencil this: “I am going away. I could not stay, of course. When I think how I have stayed and how I have treated you both, who have been so very, very kind to me, I feel--I can't tell you how I feel. You must not think me ungrateful. You must not think of me at all. And you must not try to find me, even if you should wish to do such a thing. I have the money which I intended using for my new frocks and I shall use it to pay my expenses and my fare to the place I am going. It is your money, of course, and some day I shall send it to you. And someday, if I can, I shall repay all that you have spent on my account. But you must not follow me and you must not think of asking me to come back. That I shall never do. I do thank you for all that you have done for me, both of you. I cannot understand why you did it, but I shall always remember. Don't worry about me. I know what I am going to do and I shall not starve or be in want. Good-by. Please try to forget me. “FRANCES MORLEY. “Please tell Mr. Knowles that I am sorry for what I said to him this afternoon and so many times before. How he could have been so kind and patient I can't understand. I shall always remember it--always. Perhaps he may forgive me some day. I shall try and hope that he may.” I read to the end. Then, without speaking, I looked at Hephzy. Her eyes were brimming with tears.