“The rest?—I woke up a short time ago and was surprised to find my wife had already left the room. Wondering what could be the matter (for she is usually a very late riser), I got up also. On the table beside my bed lay a letter addressed to me in her handwriting. I tore it open. Here it is,” and he handed me a small pink note redolent of the peculiar scent which I had noticed his wife affected. This is what I read:
My Darling Husband:
I must leave you. It is best for both. Don’t think I’m going because I don’t love you. It isn’t that. I love you more than ever. It breaks my heart to go. Oh, my darling, darling! We have been happy, haven’t we? And now it is all over. Don’t look for me, I beg you. I must hide. Don’t tell any one, even the servants, that I have gone, for two days. Oh, do oblige me in this. I have taken all the money I could find, $46.00, and some of my jewelry; so I shall not be destitute.
Forgive me, and forget me.
Your loving, heart-broken wife,
Lulu.
After reading the note to the end, I stared at him in speechless astonishment.
“What do you think of that?” he asked.
“Well, really, of all mysterious, incomprehensible——”
“Exactly,” he interrupted, impatiently, “but what am I to do now? It is, of course, nonsense her telling me not to look for her. I will look for her and find her, too. But how shall I go about it? O my God, to think of that little girl sick, unhappy, alone; she will die—” he cried, starting up.