“You will not be compelled to assume as yet the duties of a wifehood that would be repugnant to you now, though I hope at some future day to teach your heart the sweet lesson of love. Am I presumptuous?
“We must keep up the farce of love—no farce on my part—to blind the world, and make it believe in the honesty of the coup d’état by which you came out of the affair with Desha with flying colors. Do not lay aside for a moment the pretense that the force of love alone caused your elopement.
“Above all, spare my gentle mother any knowledge of the real truth. It will not take much acting to please her gentle heart with the fancy that I am dear to you. May the fancy some day become reality.
“I have dared kiss you good-bye as you slept. I hope you will rest easy till my return tomorrow evening. I will give orders for the morning papers to be sent you.
“Devotedly,
Rolfe.”
Viola read the short letter slowly and lingeringly, and then thrust it into her bosom.
The woman who watched her saw her lips quiver, and said, tenderly:
“I told Rolfe it was hard for him to go tonight, but he seemed to think you would not blame him, dear.”
“No, no; I understand,” the girl answered, quietly; then suddenly hid her pale face in her hands, while a burning crimson flushed up to her brow at the deceit she must practice on the kind soul who thought she was grieving because of Rolfe’s absence, while instead she was unutterably grateful to him for his chivalrous consideration.