n dey lef', but I reckon
she'll be gone a right smart while, 'cause she lef' me word jes what I
was to feed dat puppy. As ef a pusson raised at Sto'm wouldn't know how
to take keer of puppy-dawgs!" She exchanged with her former mistress a
smile of indulgent amusement. "I 'lows she's goin' to tek her dinner
with you-all like she ginally does, ain't she?"

Kate doubted it, after what had passed; but she went back to her house
and waited, hopefully.

At about the dinner-hour she was called to the telephone, and for a
moment failed to recognize Philip's voice over the wire. It sounded
unnatural.

"Is Jacqueline there?"

"Why, no. Not yet. Is she coming?"

"I--I don't know. Look here!--don't worry, but she's been gone for some
hours, and she 's taken a trunk with her."

"A trunk?" cried Kate.

"Yes. Do you know anything about it? Has she spoken to you of making a
visit, or anything?" He repeated his question, patiently; but Kate could
not find her voice to answer. A premonition of disaster struck her dumb.

"You're not to worry," said Philip again. "Lige drove her over to the
trolley-line, and he should be back soon. I'll telephone you what he has
to say."

But Kate could not wait. She ran out to the stables and saddled a horse
with her own hands, impatiently pushing aside the slower negroes.

Halfway to the rectory she met Philip, in the Ark. He held out to her an
open letter.

"Lige brought it back to me. It's from Jacqueline. Read it," he said,
dully.

Seated upon a restive horse that backed and filled nervously about the
puffing engine, the paper fluttering in her fingers, Kate read aloud
Jacqueline's farewell to her husband, only half grasping its meaning:

I didn't mean to be dishonorable, darling Philip; I didn't know I
was being, till mother told me. I never thought. I only thought,
suppose I have a baby, and it's a poor little thing without a
father, like Mag's, that nobody wants except me, and that mother
and Jemmy and everybody would be ashamed of? I couldn't bear
it!--And I didn't know mother asked you to marry me--I thought you
wanted to, because you were unhappy and wanted me for
company--we're so used to each other. Truly, I thought that! And I
thought you knew, Philip. It seemed to me that you knew, without my
telling you.

Kate looked up here. "Did you know?" she asked.

He nodded, without speaking.

Kate's head drooped over the letter.