Лето

           Dr.Merklelookedupatherpleasantlyfromtheplushsofa.“Itseemsyougotmarriedyesterday,uptothe’Piscopalchurch;Iheardallabouttheweddingfromtheminister’schore-man.Itwouldbeapity,wouldn’tit,toletMr.Royallknowyouhadanaccountrunninghere?Ijustputittoyouasyourownmothermight.”

           AngerflamedupinCharity,andforaninstantshethoughtofabandoningthebroochandlettingDr.Merkledoherworst.Buthowcouldsheleaveheronlytreasurewiththatevilwoman?Shewanteditforherbaby:shemeantit,insomemysteriousway,tobealinkbetweenHarney’schildanditsunknownfather.Tremblingandhatingherselfwhileshedidit,shelaidMr.Royall’smoneyonthetable,andcatchingupthebroochfledoutoftheroomandthehouse....

           Inthestreetshestoodstill,dazedbythislastadventure.Butthebroochlayinherbosomlikeatalisman,andshefeltasecretlightnessofheart.Itgaveherstrength,afteramoment,towalkonslowlyinthedirectionofthepostoffice,andgointhroughtheswingingdoors.Atoneofthewindowssheboughtasheetofletter-paper,anenvelopeandastamp;thenshesatdownatatableanddippedtherustypostofficepeninink.ShehadcometherepossessedwithafearwhichhadhauntedhereversinceshehadfeltMr.Royall’sringonherfinger:thefearthatHarneymight,afterall,freehimselfandcomebacktoher.