“When I am gone I want you to go to your father’s sister, Gloria Mayfield. I hate to send you there, but there’s no one else of your blood, and you’re too young to live alone. Gloria has retired from the stage and they say she is quite respectable now, and besides you won’t be dependent on her. Now that there will be no more doctors’ bills to pay, there will be enough money for you to live on, more than any young girl ought to have in her own hands. It is all in trust and you will have just the income until you are twenty-one.” Ruth made no comment to this. Having handled her mother’s business affairs she knew that her income would be very small indeed, but she and her mother had different ideas as to how much a young girl should spend. “Of course I expect you to pay your way with your aunt,” her mother went on. “But you must live with some older woman and she is your father’s sister.” She said it as if the fact that Gloria Mayfield was her father’s sister answered all arguments. “Where does Aunt Gloria live, Mother?” asked Ruth. She accepted the fact that her mother would die soon without making an effort to persuade either herself or her mother that there was any hope that the doctors might be mistaken. She had known for years that her mother would not live long. Doctors, New Thought, Christian Science, and Theosophy had all been appealed to without having any appreciable effect on her mother’s health. Ruth being perfectly healthy was inclined to have faith in the New Thought. She disliked the Science because of the word Christian, but was inclined to believe that any one of these numerous things might have helped if used alone. When her father had died first it had seemed unreal—impossible almost, for Ruth and her father had always expected her mother to go first, though neither of them would have put such a thought into words. It was just an unspoken understanding between them. “In New York,” Mrs. Mayfield had answered; and Ruth was ashamed that her first thought on hearing this amazing news was that in New York she could study in the best American art schools. “How old is she?” asked Ruth. She had been a bit troubled by her mother’s words about an older woman. Ruth had no desire to go to New York to be controlled by some elderly female relative. “I don’t know. I never saw her. In her younger days she was abroad a great deal, and then I never cared to meet her. She was younger than your father, quite a lot younger, but she must have reached years of discretion by this time. I hope so for your sake. Perhaps I’m not doing the right thing by telling you to go to her, but after all she is your father’s sister and will be your only relative after I am gone.” “Have you written to her—do you want me to write?”