As Thurley broke the seal on the letter, she felt as if she wanted to drive to the station willy-nilly to take the first train to the Corners, to come into the emporium and, upon seeing Dan, say that she was “sorry” and she still wanted him to plan for the new house ... but she was on her way to Bliss Hobart’s studio, envied of the envied, dressed as a “princess,” with strange wisdom concerning many things making inroads into her simple heart.
She read the letter hastily:
Dear Thurley:
I don’t know how to tell you but you ought to know that Dan and Lorraine are engaged and every one knows Dan don’t care two straws for Lorraine, poor girl, but she is dead in love with him. He done it for spite and I guess they will both be sorry. Unless he leaves town he can’t get out of marrying her because her father is the minister. He looks haunted like and my heart aches for him and for her. Dear Thurley, you will not mind, you are in such a big city with so many things to see and do and all the lovely clothes you say you have and your teachers and all the rest. Sometimes it seems a dream to me.
Will you ever come back to us, Thurley, tell me if you go to church and have they asked you to sing in meeting? How is Miss Clergy, does she ever talk about that Eyetalian fellow?
We are well and Hopeful and me get along so well in this house except that it seems pretty big and that it ain’t right to take charity. Ali Baba misses you, he says he will send a box of apples when he gets the ones he wants for you. Thank you for the dress and coat, they are too fine for my old self. God bless Thurley Precore,
from,
yours respectfully,
B. Pilrig.
The driver was opening the door for Thurley to leave the cab. After a moment she handed him a bill, threading her way through the crowd until she reached the studio building. She wondered if Hobart would notice her manner and comment on it; if she could manage to get through her lesson without breaking down. Dan and Lorraine engaged—with her ring—and it would be Lorraine’s house with the sun parlor that Thurley once planned and the big living room (right across the front of the house, Danny boy, and a fireplace big enough for two Santa Clauses); Lorraine would revel in the garden pergola and plan the sun dial—oh, it hurt, it hurt—she was a miserable, jealous coward!