She wondered what she could do. Where could she go? She had no training by which she could earn a living. And she certainly would not go to any city where she was liable to meet anybody who knew her. She thought of Aunt Sophie and her invitation to come and live with her in New York. No, she couldn’t accept that invitation now. Aunt Sophie would be just like these people here, would hate her for her misdeed. Suppose she did marry Carl. His parents would see that they wanted nothing. But always there would be in their minds, she was sure, the thought that she had come to them under a cloud—that she had done something disgraceful and by that means had married into their family. Mimi felt sure in time they too would hate her as much as she now hated Carl. No, her mind was made up. Whatever she might have to suffer, it was better that she keep her own soul free. That would certainly not be true if she married Carl now.
Wearily she faced her stepmother and spoke. The words came slowly, painstakingly, as though she were explaining a complex matter to a rather stupid child.
“Yes, I know all that you say is true. I am foolish. I am bringing on myself a terrible responsibility. But I can’t marry Carl—not now. He wanted me to go to a doctor—to fix me up—those were his very words. I hate him—and if I live to be a thousand years old I’ll hate him more every day I live. Don’t you worry—I’ll go away—I don’t know where, but anyway you won’t be bothered with me anymore. But I won’t marry Carl. My mind’s made up and I won’t change it. …”
A few weeks later Mimi boarded a train for Philadelphia. She could give no reason why she chose that city to which to go. The nearest she could explain her choice was that Philadelphia was large, she knew no one there and she was sure she could lose herself in its vastness. Mr. Hunter offered her money but she took only that which was due her through his purchase of half, her half, of the stock Jean had owned. Mrs.