w he was going to let her
go. And looking like this!--suffering like this--needing help.

But he must not fail her now at the last; he must not fail her now when
she herself was so worn, so wretched, was bearing so much. As they
turned in at the gate he fought with all his strength against the
thought that they would not be turning in at that gate any more and
spoke in matter of fact tones of where he would be waiting for her, what
time she must be there. But when they reached the steps they stood there
for a minute under the big tree, there where they had so many times
stood through a number of years. As they stood there things crowded upon
them hard; Ruth raised her face and looked at him and at the anguish of
her swimming eyes his hands went out to her arms. "Don't go, Ruth!" he
whispered brokenly. "Ruth!--_don't go!_"

But that made her instantly find herself, that found the fight in her,
to strengthen herself, to resist him; she was at once erect,
indomitable, the purpose that no misery could shake gleamed through her
wet eyes. Then she turned and went into the house. Her mother called out
to her, sleepily asking if she could get out of her dress by herself.
She answered yes, and then Mrs. Holland asked another sleepy question
about Edith. Then the house was still; she knew that they were all
asleep. She got her dress off and hung it carefully in the closet. She
had already put some things in her bag; she put in a few more now, all
the while sobbing under her breath.

She took off her slippers. After she had done that she stood looking at
her bed. She saw her nightgown hanging in the closet. She wanted to put
on her nightgown and get into bed! She leaned against the bed, crying.
She wanted to put on her nightgown and get into bed! She was so tired,
so frightened, so worn with pain. Then she shook herself, steeled again,
and began putting on her shoes; put on her suit, her hat, got out her
gloves. And then at the very last she had to do what she had been trying
to make herself do all that day, and had not dared begin to do. She went
to her desk and holding herself tight, very rapidly, though with shaking
hand, wrote this note:

"Dear Mother; I'm going away. I love Stuart Williams. I have for a
long time. Oh, mother--I'm so sorry--but I can't help it. He's
sick. He has to go away, so you see I have to go with him. It's
terrible that it is like this. Mother, try to believe that I can't
hel