Every effort was made to bring her back, but the girl resisted; presently she again passed out of sight, and now more than a year had elapsed since Miss Barfoot's last interview with her.
This Monday morning, among letters delivered at the house, was one from the strayed girl.

Miss Barfoot read it in private, and throughout the day remained unusually grave.

At five o'clock, when staff and pupils had all departed, she sat for a while in meditation, then spoke to Rhoda, who was glancing over a book by the window.
'Here's a letter I should like you to read.' 'Something that has been troubling you since morning, isn't it ?' 'Yes.' Rhoda took the sheet and quickly ran through its contents.

Her face hardened, and she threw down the letter with a smile of contempt.
'What do you advise ?' asked the elder woman, closely observing her.
'An answer in two lines--with a cheque enclosed, if you see fit.' 'Does that really meet the case ?' 'More than meets it, I should say.' Miss Barfoot pondered.
'I am doubtful.

That is a letter of despair, and I can't close my ears to it.' 'You had an affection for the girl.