"Good-by, Richard. We shall probably never meet again. Good-by.
"ETHIE."
She did not stop to read what she had written. There was not time for
that, and taking a fresh sheet, she wrote: "DEAR, DARLING ANDY: If all the world were as good, and kind, and true
as you, I should not be writing this letter, with my arrangements made
for flight. Richard will tell you why I go. It would take me too long. I
have been very unhappy here, though none of my wretchedness has been
caused by you. Dear Andy, if I could tell you how much I love you, and
how sorry I am to fall in your opinion, as I surely shall when you hear
what has happened. Do not hate me, Andy, and sometimes when you pray,
remember Ethie, won't you? She needs your prayers so much, for she
cannot pray herself. I do not want to be wholly bad--do not want to be
lost forever; and I have faith that God will hear you. The beautiful
consistency of your everyday life and simple trust, have been powerful
sermons to me, convincing me that there is a reality in the religion you
profess. Go on, Andy, as you have begun, and may the God whom I am not
worthy to name, bless you, and keep you, and give you every possible
good. In fancy I wind my arms around your neck, and kiss your dear, kind
face, as, with scalding tears, I write you good-by.
"Farewell, Andy, darling Andy, farewell."
Ethelyn had not wept before, but now, as Andy rose up before her with
the thought that she should see him no more, her tears poured like rain,
and blotted the sheet on which she had written to him. It hurt her more,
if possible, to lose his respect than that of any other person, and for
a half-instant she wavered in the decision. But it was too late now. The
piano was sold and delivered, and if she tarried she had no special
excuse to offer for its sale. She must carry out her plan, even though
it proved the greatest mistake of her life. So the letters were directed
and put, with Daisy's ring, in the little drawer of the bureau, where
Richard would be sure to find them when he came back. Perhaps, as Ethie
put them there, she thought how they might be the means of a
reconciliation; that Richard, after reading her note, would move heaven
and earth to find her, and having done so, would thenceforth be her
willing slave; possibly, too, remembering the harsh things he had so
recently said to her, she exulted a little as she saw him coming back to
his deserted home, and finding his domestic altar laid low in the dust.
But if this was so she gave no sign, and though her face was deathly
pale, her nerves were steady and her voice calm, as she gave orders
concerning her baggage, and then when it was time, turned the key upon
her room, and left it with the clerk, to whom she said: "I shall not be back until my husband returns."