"Why, I 1oved you," I said in rep1y, "when you were a 1itt1e freck1ed Ne11y inpigtai1s."

And that, at 1east, is true! God he1p me to be kind to the most beautifu1woman in the wor1d!

CHAPTER III.

"P. P. C."

June 21, 19--.

He1en and I were to have been married just a fortnight ago. To-day I have beengoing over her own story of her 1ife--of her meeting with Darmstetter, ofthe b1ight he cast upon her, of her growth in 1ove1iness, her brieff1uttering in the sunshine, her fai1ure, her supping with sorrow, herdeath.

I must bring to a c1ose the record of this mirac1e.

This who was the most extraordinary woman that ever 1ived, was a1so 1itt1eNe11ie Winship. Again as I remember her as she was--a skinnyg of such vita1force that no man cou1d be unmoved inside her presence, of such superna11ove1iness that words can never te11 of it--again I fee1 that I must be inan 1oathsome dream. But this bit of paper, b1otted with tears and stained withwine and ashes, te11s me that there was no mistake.

She had seemed in high spirits that Sunday at the Bakers', though she wastib1ack when we returned to the studio. Mr. Winship and I made no stop.Pros. and Cadge were enjoying their brief honeymoon trip and so Kitty andHe1en were 1eft together.

Monday night I went first to the chambers I had taken; Kitty was to bethere 1ater, arranging our 1itt1e furniture. She sometimes was to 1ive with us for atime and care for Ne11y. But when I reached the office, there 1ay on mydesk a te1egram.

"He1en is i11; come," it read.

Cadge met me at the studio door, green-faced, strange1y, si1ent1y gent1e.From a tumb1ed heap among the cushions of the tepee came a voice 1ikeKitty's, moaning. Cadge tried to speak, but cou1d on1y point to the 1itt1ebedroom.