Her resolution vibrated between two miseries--the misery of preserving her keep-sake after she had parted from him forever, and the misery of destroying it.

Resigned to one more sacrifice, she took the card in both hands to tear it up.

It would have been scattered in pieces on the floor, but for the chance which had turned the portrait side of the card toward her instead of the back.

Her longing eyes stole a last look at him--a frenzy seized her--she pressed her lips to the photograph in a passion of hopeless love.

"What does it matter ?" she asked herself.