oor, weeping out the sorrow of a torn young soul. She had
promised to give up Theodore completely. She had lost her love, her
friend, her sweetheart. Once more she had surrendered to Bobbie
Grandoken the best she had to give.

Later, when the cobbler and his wife were crooning over their little
son, Jinnie, with breaking heart, decided she would leave Bellaire at
once, as Molly had asked her. She must never think of Theodore again.
She'd renounced him, firmly believing he still loved her; she'd
promised to depart without seeing him, but surely, oh, a little
farewell note, with the assurances of her gratitude, would not be
breaking that promise.

So, until Peggy carried the baby away to bed, the girl composed a
letter to Theodore, pathetic in its terseness. She also wrote to
Molly, telling her she had decided to go back to Mottville
immediately.

When she had finished the letters, she took her usual place on the
stool at the cobbler's feet.

"Lafe," she ventured, wearily, "some time I'm going to tell you
everything that's happened since I last saw you, but not to-night!"

"Whenever you're ready, honey," acquiesced Lafe.

"And I've been thinking of something else, dear. I want to go to
Mottville."

Lafe's face paled.

"I don't see how Peg an' me'll live without you, Jinnie."

Jinnie touched the hand smoothing her curls.

"I couldn't live without you either, Lafe, and I won't try----"

The cobbler bent and kissed her.

"I won't try, dear," she repeated. "You must all live with me,
although I'll go first to arrange things a little. We'll never worry
about money any more, dearest."

"And Mr. King," Lafe faltered, quite disturbed, "what about him?"

"I shan't ever see him again," Jinnie stated sadly. "I've just written
him, and he'll understand."

Lafe knew by the finality of her tones that she did not care to
discuss Theodore that night.

CHAPTER XLIX

BACK HOME

Late the next afternoon Jinnie left the train at Mottville station,
her fiddle box in one hand, and a suitcase in the other. She stood a
moment watching the train as it disappeared. It had carried her from
the man she loved, brought her away from Bellaire, the city of her
hopes. One bitter fact reared itself above all others. The world of
which Theodore King had been the integral part was dead to her. What
was she to do without him, without Bobbie to pet and love? But a
feeling of thanksgiving pervaded her when she remembered she sti