He had chosen his time well. And he had gone away without knowing the truth! "My proa boys are ready; the wind is brisk; and in an hour we shall be beyond all pursuit. She could not stir hand or foot. She visited the corner that had been her own little garden—her forget-me-nots and candytuft had long since been elbowed into insignificance by weeds; she visited the raspberry-canes that had sheltered that first love affair with the little boy in velvet, and the greenhouse where she had been wont to read her secret letters. Clotilde announced that she would not be back and she was taking Fritz and Anna forever. So she married him. And yet, she would be easy prey in her present state of mind to any plausible, attractive scoundrel. The hills surrounded her cave home protectively. Queer old gentleman! The art of ignoring is one of the accomplishments of every well-bred girl, so carefully instilled that at last she can even ignore her own thoughts and her own knowledge.
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