and
trying to think, dumbly, what was left to him in the world. He was as
deep in the depths that morning as he had been high in the heavens the
evening before.

[Illustration]

CHAPTER XXIV

TWO LETTERS

I can imagine just how Nort looked, sitting in the bare room of the
Bedlow Hotel of Hewlett, biting the end of his pen and struggling
furiously with his letter to Anthy. In one moment he would let himself
go the limit: "My dearest Anthy, I shall never see you again, and I can
therefore tell you with the more freedom of my undying love----" and at
the next moment he would hold himself to the strictest restraint: "My
dear Miss Doane" or "Dear Miss Doane." Half the letters he wrote were
too long, or too wild, or too passionate, and the other half were too
short or too cold. Before he got through, the table and floor all about
him were drifted white with torn scraps of his correspondence.

His face was pale and his hair was rumpled. For almost the first time in
his life he was in such deadly earnest, so altogether miserable, that he
could not even stand aside and see himself with any degree of interest
or satisfaction. This was the real thing.

He had firmly made up his mind as to his course. He would no longer
think and talk about doing something great and heroic for Anthy. He
would really do it. And he had settled upon quite the most heroic thing
he could think of--this extraordinary young man--and this was to leave
Hempfield, and to see no more of Anthy. Fergus was undoubtedly right. He
was not worthy of Anthy, and his presence and his love would be a
hindrance rather than a help to her. Whatever Nort did in those days he
did to the utter extremity. And this was the letter he finally sent:

MY DEAR MISS DOANE:

I am hopelessly unfortunate in everything I do. I do nothing
but blunder. I hope you will not think ill of me. Fergus is
right. In leaving Hempfield, not to return, I am leaving
everything in the world that means anything to me. I hope
you will at least set this down to the credit of

NORTON CARR.

I was in the office of the _Star_ when Nort's letter arrived. I saw
Anthy pause a moment, standing very still by her desk. I saw her open
the letter slowly, and then, after reading it, hold it hard in her hand,
which she unconsciously lifted to her breast. I saw her turn and walk
out of the office, a curious rapt expression upon her face.

As she entered the familiar