breath and commenced to shiver.

"I was wrong. You must go to her," she whispered. "She has the right of
way. She has the right of way. Go, go," she blazed, passion slipping up
again. "Go before I forget honor; forget everything but that I love."

Garrison turned. She never forgot the look his face held; never forgot
the tone of his voice.

"I go. Good-by, Sue. I go to the girl up North. You are above me in
every way--infinitely above me. Yes, the girl up North. I had forgotten.
She is my wife. And I have children."

He swung on his heel and blindly flung himself upon the waiting gelding.

Sue stood motionless.



CHAPTER XII.

GARRISON HIMSELF AGAIN.

That night Garrison left for New York; left with the memory of Sue
standing there on the moonlit pike, that look in her eyes; that look of
dazed horror which he strove blindly to shut out. He did not return
to Calvert House; not because he remembered the girl's advice and was
acting upon it. His mind had no room for the past. Every blood-vessel
was striving to grapple with the present. He was numb with agony. It
seemed as if his brain had been beaten with sticks; beaten to a pulp.