up
the hills was long, and the sun was hot, so that when he reached the
depths of the wood he threw himself down with a grateful sense of the
stillness which could not be disturbed by telephone or tap at the door.
For a little while he lay with his eyes shut, steeping himself in that
blessed silence.

When at last he sat up, he took from his pocket Diana's letter, and read
it again, passing his hand now and then nervously through his hair,
until it stood up like the ruffled plumage of an eagle.

"DEAR ANTHONY:--

"It will be easier for me to talk with you in this way than face to
face. When you are with me, my point of view seems to get mixed up
with your point of view, and before I know it, I find myself making
promises which I cannot keep, as to-night, when I almost said I would
stay--and be your friend.

"I have always been your friend, Anthony. Haven't I? Even when I was a
little girl, and you were a big boy, you seemed to find something in
me which made it worth while for you to leave the other big boys and
stay with me and talk about my books. Will I ever forget how you read
some of them aloud to me? I never open now my thumbed little copy of
'Cranford' without hearing your laughing voice stumbling over the
mincing phrases, and as for 'Little Women,' I believe that I worshiped
in you the personification of 'Laurie.'

"But those were not the best times, Anthony. The best were when it was
too dark to read, and I would curl up on the big bench by the side of
the fire, and you would lie at full length on the hearth-rug, and the
wind would blow and the waves would boom, and you would weave tales
for me out of your wonderful wealth of boyish dreams.

"Blessed memories! But even then I believe I resented your
masterfulness a bit, Anthony. There was that time when you told me
that I must get my lessons before you would finish the story which was
so near the end. And I cried and coaxed, but you stood firm--and I
respected you for it, and hated you and loved you in one breath.

"Oh, my big boy Anthony! Shall I ever forget you, with your brown lock
over your blue eyes, your unswerving honesty of purpose, your high
ideals. When you came home from college, and I had just put up my
hair, and lengthened my dresses, you started to kiss me, then stopped.
'I thought I could,' you said, with such a funny note of surprise in
your voice, 'but there's something abou