She rose and put a few remaining things in her bag, after which she opened the wardrobe to select the plainest and most useful dress she possessed. She chose a tweed coat and skirt, and before she closed the cupboard she glanced for the last time at the lovely dresses that Sheila had given her, smoothing them tenderly with her hand. She wondered who would wear them now. Then she unlocked her jewel case, and put away the locket and bangle that she had worn the day before. They were marks of Sheila's former love for her. She did not want to see them again and was determined to take away nothing but what was absolutely necessary. No one should be able to say that she had decamped with everything on which she could lay her hands. Perhaps Sheila would suspect her now of behaving in this kind of manner. She would give her no opportunity of so doing. The hat was the difficulty. She could not find one quite suitable for the kind of life which she knew would now have to be hers. But at last she decided upon a shady white straw trimmed with a blue scarf. Then she went to the door of Sheila's room and listened. As she stood there the bitter unforgiving thoughts subsided. She remembered how the girl had befriended her. How she had taken her in, though a complete stranger, and showered gifts upon her. She remembered, too, when she was feeling like a caged bird and longed for the freedom of the fields, how Sheila's kiss had changed everything, how she had shared her pleasures with her, and given her beautiful clothing and every comfort. Meg stood weeping by the locked door, longing to open it and to beg forgiveness for her harsh words of the day before, but she knew full well that she would not be welcome, so turned away, and taking up her small bag, noiselessly stole downstairs. The house looked ghostly in the light of dawn, and its quietness made the girl shiver. She unbolted the door into the garden shutting it softly after her. Once in the garden she lingered. A slight morning mist lay about the distance, and the grass was glittering with dew at her feet. The silence was absolute, till suddenly a lonely bird awoke and sang. In a moment its song was answered by another, and before a minute had passed there was a happy chorus of birds congratulating one another on a new morning. Meg, standing there in the dewy dawn, sighed. Even the birds spoke of friendship and love. They all seemed to have a comrade to answer to their call, while she had no one. The tears fell fast.