She laughed a little and he laughed with her. Then she went on more gently: "Because I want to. Just the thought of it has made life come alive for me--that's reason enough for going to the ends of the earth! I'm going to _live_ again, Ted--not just go on with what living has left. I'm going to find some work to do. Yes I _can_!" she cried passionately in response to his gesture "I suppose to you it seems just looking out for myself--seems unfaithful to Stuart. Well, it isn't--that's all I can say, and maybe some day you'll see that it wasn't. It isn't unfaithful to turn from a person you have nothing more to offer, for whom you no longer make life a living thing. It's more faithful to go. You'll see that some time, Ted. But be good to Stuart," she hastily added. "You stay with him till he can get off. I've made all the arrangements with Mrs. Baxter for packing up--sending on the things. It would be hard for him to do that, I know. And once away from here--new interests--life all new again--oh, no, Ted dear," she laughed a little chokingly, "don't worry about Stuart."
"I'm not worrying about Stuart," he muttered. "I'm worrying about you."
She squeezed his arm in affectionate gratitude for the love in the growling words. "Don't _worry_ about me, Ted," she implored, "be glad with me! I'm alive again! It's so wonderful to be alive again. There's the future--a great, beautiful unknown. It _is_ wonderful, Ted," she said with insistence, as if she would banish his fears--and her own.
They had a few minutes to wait, and Ted ran over to the postoffice to get her mail for her--she was expecting a paper she wanted to read on the train. She tucked what he handed her into her bag and then when she heard the train coming she held on to Ted's arm, held it as if she could not bear letting it go. "It's all right," were her last words to him, smiling through tears.
She had been trying all along to hold her mind from the thought that they would pass through Freeport. Late the next afternoon, when she knew they were nearing it, she grew restless. It was then she remembered the paper in her bag--she had been in no mood for reading, too charged with her own feeling. She got it out now and found that with the paper was a letter. It was a letter from Deane Franklin.