ell letter to the General, who had always been so
kind and good to her. She made it as short and simple as possible, and
she explained nothing. Without consulting Mr. Evandale, and perhaps her
aunt Leo, of whom she was genuinely fond, she felt that she was not free
to speak.

"Dearest uncle Richard," she wrote--"I think it best to go to
London to-day and see aunt Leo. I am taking Parker with me. Forgive
me if I say that I do not think I can ever come back again. I hope
you will not look on me as ungrateful for all your kindness to me.
I will write again, and shall hope to see you in London. Your
loving niece, ENID."

She placed the letter in an envelope, addressed it, and left it in a
conspicuous position on the dressing-table. Then she put on her hat and
cloak, and asked Parker whether she was ready to leave the house. The
clock had struck five, and they had some distance to walk before they
could reach a railway-station. Parker prevailed upon her to eat and
drink before they started; but the girl's appetite was small, and she
left her biscuits almost untouched upon the plate.

As the two stole silently down the corridor, Enid noticed that the door
of Dick's night-nursery was half open. She hesitated, then with a mute
sign to Parker to go on, she entered the room and made her way to the
child's bedside. Parker lingered long enough to see her kneel down
beside it, and lay her face for a few moments on the pillow beside the
sleeping boy. She kissed him very gently; and when, with a sleepy
movement, he turned and put his arm round her, as if to hold her there,
the tears began to fall down her pale cheeks. But she dared not stay too
long. She rose presently, put his hand back under the coverlet, and
kissed him once again.

"Dear little Dick," she murmured sorrowfully, "will you some day think
that I did not love you, when you know what I have done, and what I
shall have to do?"

When Enid rejoined Parker she was pale, but calm; the tears lingered on
her eyelashes, but had been carefully wiped away from her cheeks. They
left the house in silence by a side-door which could be easily unbolted;
and for some time Parker did not venture to open her lips. Her young
mistress looked like a different being with that grave determination on
her face, that steady serious light in her sad but serene blue eyes.

Just when they reached the point from which the Hall could last be seen,
Enid turned and l