"To my house up in the woods--the little house where love lived, so long
ago."
Rose's pale lips quivered for an instant. "What have I to do with love?"
"Go to the house where he lived once, and perhaps you may find out."
"I will--I'll be glad to go. If I could make the next train, could you
arrange to have a trunk follow me?"
"Of course. Go on, dear. I know how it happens sometimes, that one can't
stay in one place any longer. I suffered from wanderlust until I was
almost seventy, and it's a long time since you've been away."
"And you'll promise not to tell anybody?"
"I promise."
While Rose was packing a suit-case, Madame brought her a rusty, old-
fashioned key, and a card on which she had written directions for the
journey. "I've ordered the carriage," she said, "and I'll drive down
with you to see you safely off."
After the packing was completed and while there was still nearly an hour
to wait before the carriage would come, Rose locked her door, and, after
many failures, achieved her note:
"MY DEAR ALLISON:
"You don't know how glad I am for you and how glad I shall be all the
rest of my life.
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