"No," she answered. "You spoke of a letter----" he suggested. "A note she wrote me before leaving," explained Leslie. "You see I'd been with her all day and we had raced home so joyously; and when things came out as they did, she knew I wouldn't understand." "Might I see it?" he asked. "Surely," said Leslie. "I spoke of that the other day. I'll bring it." When Leslie returned James Minturn read the missive several times; then he handed it back, saying: "What is there in that Leslie, to prove your points?" "Three things," said Leslie with conviction: "The statement that for an hour after she reached her decision she experienced real joy and expected to render the same to you; the acknowledgment that she understood that you didn't know what you were doing to her, in your reception of her; and the final admission that life now held so little for her that she would gladly end it, if she dared, without making what reparation she could. What more do you want?" "You're very sure you are drawing the right deductions?" he asked. "I wish you would sit down and let me tell you of that day," said Leslie. "I have come to you for help," said James Minturn. "I would be more than glad, if you'd be so kind." At the end: "I don't think I've missed a word," said Leslie. "That day is and always will be sharply outlined." "You've not heard from her since that note?" he asked. "You don't know where she is?" "No," said Leslie. "I haven't an idea where you could find her; but because of her lawyer superintending the hospital repairs, because of the wonderful way things are being done, Daddy thinks it's sure that the work is in John Haynes' hands, and that she is directing it through him." "If it were not for the war, I would know," said Mr. Minturn. "But understanding her as I do----" "I think instead of understanding her so well, you scarcely know her at all," said Leslie gently. "You may have had a few months of her real nature to begin with, but when her rearing and environment ruled her life, the real woman was either perverted or had small chance. Do you ever stop to think what kind of a man you might have been, if all your life you had been forced and influenced as Nellie was?" "Good Lord!" cried Mr. Minturn. "Exactly!" agreed Leslie. "That's what I'm telling you! She had got to the realization of the fact that her life had been husks and ashes; so she went to beg you to help her to a better way, and you failed her. I'm not saying it was your fault; I'm not saying I blame you; I'm merely stating facts." "Margaret blames me!" said Mr. Minturn. "She thinks I'm enough at fault that I never can find happiness until I locate Nellie and learn whether she is with her mother and friends, or if she really meant what she said about changing, enough to go ahead and be different from principle." "Her change was radical and permanent."