the words. Keith!
She could only murmur his name, holding the letter close against her.

ii

"MY DEAR JENNY," said the letter. "Do you remember? I said I should
write to you when I got back. Well, here I am. I can't come to you
myself. I'm tied here by the leg, and mustn't leave for a moment. But
you said you'd come to me. Will you? Do! If you can come, you'll be a
most awful dear, and I shall be out of my wits with joy. Not really out
of my wits. _Do_ come, there's a dear good girl. It's my only chance, as
I'm off again in the morning. The man who brings this note will bring
you safely to me in the car, and will bring you quite safely home again.
_Do_ come! I'm longing to see you. I trust you to come. I will explain
everything when we meet. Yours always, KEITH."

A long sigh broke from Jenny's lips as she finished reading. She
was transfigured. Gone was the defiant look, gone were the sharpnesses
that earlier had appeared upon her face. A soft colour flooded her
cheeks; her eyes shone. Come to him! She would go to the end of the
world.... Keith! She said it aloud, in a voice that was rich with her
deep feeling, magically transformed.

"Come to you, my dear!" said Jenny. "As if you need ask!"

Then she remembered that Emmy was out, that she was left at home to look
after her father, that to desert him would be a breach of trust. Quickly
her face paled, and her eyes became horror-laden. She was shaken by the
conflict of love and love, love that was pity and love that was the
overwhelming call of her nature. The letter fluttered from her fingers,
swooping like a wounded bird to the ground, and lay unheeded at her
feet.

iii

"What _shall_ I do?" Nobody to turn to; no help from any hand. To stay
was to give up the chance of happiness. To go--oh, she couldn't go! If
Keith was tied, so was Jenny. Half demented, she left the letter where
it had fallen, a white square upon the shabby rug. In a frenzy she wrung
her hands. What could she do? It was a cry of despair that broke from
her heart. She couldn't go, and Keith was waiting. That it should have
happened upon this evening of all others! It was bitter! To send back a
message, even though it be written with all her love, which still she
must not express to Keith in case he should think her lightly won, would
be to lose him for ever. He would never stand it. She saw his quick
irritation, the imperious glance. ... He was a king among men. She must
go! Whatever the