“Something that will hurt you, I am afraid,” replied Lettie, looking resolutely out of the window, that she might not see her aunt’s face. “I am sorry, auntie,” she said huskily; “sorry for both you and myself: but I can not stand it any longer, auntie. I am going away, and I think I shall start at once.” “Away? Where?” was all her aunt could ejaculate. “I am going away,” repeated Lettie steadily; “going to Aunt Kate’s, and I want to go at once.” “My lands, child! You don’t mean that you want to start for Chicago so suddenly as this?” cried Mrs. Allan, deeply wounded. “Of course, if you want to leave me,” she added, in an injured tone, “I will help you to go. But I did not think you would leave me like this.” And the good woman broke down and sobbed. “My dear, dear aunt!” cried Lettie, throwing her arms around her aunt’s neck. “My dearest friend, do not think so ill of me. You are the only friend I have!” she cried bitterly, kneeling down by her aunt’s side and burying her face in her aunt’s capacious apron. “You have done so much for me--my more than mother, and I love you so dearly. But I must go!” she cried passionately. “I must go, or I shall do something desperate.” “Why, Lettie Allan, what do you mean?” cried her aunt, frightened at the girl’s vehemence. “I mean that I must leave you for a time, and him,” said Lettie, rising dry-eyed from a tempest of sobbing. “I can not stay and stand it. I _must_ go. Oh, aunt, aunt! You do not understand!” she cried, pacing up and down the room, her cheeks and eyes flaming with passion--“you do not understand, or you would freely forgive me, and let me go.” “What is it, child? What is there to forgive?” exclaimed the aunt. “Nothing,” said Lettie, turning proudly--“nothing more than my leaving you, when I should have been a daughter to you. But I _do_ love you,” she went on, giving away to passionate tears. “And I want you to love me.” “Land knows, child, I have always loved you!” said Mrs. Allan, wiping her eyes. “And you will let me go?” cried Lettie. “Let you go, child? I can’t prevent your going if you want to. But I never thought it would come like this.” And the old woman wept bitterly. Lettie moved restlessly around the room. “Auntie,” she said presently, “you are a woman; you will understand some day, and forgive me. Kiss me good-by, auntie, dear, and give me your blessing. You can send my things; and some day, perhaps, we can be happy again together.” Poor Mrs. Allan was too overcome to speak. She could only bend forward and kiss the willful girl with her trembling lips, and then, covering her head with her apron, she gave way to her surprise and grief.