One day!

She was facing the end and she knew it.  Because she had to say No.  She had never for one minute admitted to herself the possibility of her own surrender.  She could give up Laurence, since she had to; but she could not accept Inglesby.  Anything rather than that!  At the most, all she had hoped was to evade that final No until the last moment, in order to give Eustis what poor respite she could.  Only her great love for him had enabled her to do that much.  And it had not helped.  When she thought of the wreck that must come, she beat her hands together, softly, in sheer misery.  It was like standing by and watching some splendid ship being pounded to pieces on the rocks.

Only her innate bravery and her real and deep religious instinct saved her from altogether sinking into inertia and despair.  She had to arouse herself.  Other women had faced situations equally as impossible and unbearable as hers, and the best of them had not allowed themselves to be whipped into tame and abject submission.  Even at the worst they had snatched the great chance to live their own lives in their own way.  As for her, surely there must be some way out of this snarl, some immediate way that led to honorable freedom, even without hope.  But how and where was she to find any way open to her, between now and to-morrow night?

On her dressing table, with a handful of trinkets upon it, lay the tray that the Butterfly Man had sent her when she was graduated.  Chin in hands, Mary Virginia stared absently enough at the brightly colored butterflies she had been told to remember were messengers bearing on their wings the love of the Parish House people.  Why—­why—­of course!  The Parish House people!  They had blamed her, because they hadn’t understood.  But if she were to ask the Parish House people for any help within their power, she could be sure of receiving it without stint.

If she could get to the Parish House without anybody knowing where she was, Inglesby and Hunter would be balked of that interview to-morrow night.  The worst was going to happen anyhow, but if she couldn’t save herself from anything else, at least she could save herself from facing them alone.  To be able to do that, she would go now, in the middle of the night, and tell the Padre everything.  Unnerved as she was, she couldn’t face the hours between now and to-morrow morning here, by herself.  She had to get to the Parish House.

It was then after eleven.  Nancy having been dismissed for the night, she had no fear of being interrupted.  She made her few preparations, switched off the light, and sat down to wait until she could be sure that all the servants were abed, and the streets deserted.  She felt as if she were a forlorn castaway upon a pinpoint of land, with immeasurable dark depths upon either side.

The midnight express screeched and was gone.  She switched on the light for a last look about her pretty, pleasant room.  There was a snapshot of the Parish House people upon her mantel, and she nodded to it, gravely, before she once more plunged the room into darkness.