e dull roar of the
organ drove from my mind those quiet and solemn thoughts of God which
always filled my mind so naturally and peacefully in our church at
home. I couldn't think of Him; I couldn't even try to pray; it was as
though an ocean were rolling and thundering over me where I lay
drowned in a most deep place.

Well, I must close, because _dejeuner_ is ready--you see I know _one_
French word, after all! And one other--"_Bonjour, monsieur!_"--which
counts _two_, doesn't it?--or three in all.

It has made me feel better to write to you. I hope you will not think
it a presumption.

And now I shall say thank you for your great kindness to me in your
studio on that most frightful night of my life. It is one of those
things that a girl can never, never forget--your aid in my hour of
need. Through all my shame and distress it was your help that
sustained me; for I was so stunned by my disgrace that I even forgot
God himself.

But I _will_ prove that I am thankful to Him, and worthy of your
goodness to me; I _will_ profit by this dreadful humiliation and
devote my life to a more worthy and lofty purpose than merely getting
married just because a man asked me so persistently and I was too
young and ignorant to continue saying no! Also, I _did_ want to study
art. How stupid, how immoral I was!

And now nobody would ever want to marry me again after this--and also
it's against the law, I imagine. But I don't care; I never, never
desire to marry another man. All I want is to learn how to support
myself by art; and some day perhaps I shall forget what has happened
to me and perhaps find a little pleasure in life when I am very old.

With every wish and prayer for your happiness and success in this
world of sorrow, believe me your grateful friend,

Rue Carew.

* * * * *

Every naive and laboured line of the stilted letter touched and amused
and also flattered Neeland; for no young man is entirely insensible to
a young girl's gratitude. An agreeable warmth suffused him; it pleased
him to remember that he had been associated in the moral and social
rehabilitation of Rue Carew.

He meant to write her some kind, encouraging advice; he had every
intention of answering her letter. But in New York young men are very
busy; or think they are. For youth days dawn and vanish in the space
of a fire-fly's lingering flash; and