PEGGY-IN-THE-RAIN
something interesting. Let's talk about me'?"
"Very well, let's talk about you."
Gordon, leaning forward, studied his clasped hands a moment soberly. "I guess," he said finally, "you know pretty well what the subject uppermost in my mind is, Leona. I don't ask you where she is. I only want to know that she's well and—contented."
"Gordon, I wish I could tell you, but I can't. I had only a note from her in May, wasn't it? saying that she was leaving New York, and saying that she would write to me again. She never has yet. I've wondered why she went. I've wanted to ask you, but—well, I hardly dared."
"She went—" He stopped and viewed her doubtfully. "I want to tell you, Leona; I'd like to tell you the whole thing; only—I wonder if she would wish it. God knows I've ached to tell some one for months. You were her friend; she cared a lot for you; she told me so once. What do you think, Leona?"
"I can't decide that, Gordon. If you want to tell me and it will not hurt her, why, do so. She shall never know from me."
"Well, she went because she had got to caring
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