“No; he did not know it was I. I was just a Voice from nowhere calling to him. I thought I was right. I wrote each day, sometimes twice, sending bits of verse, quotations, references, all saying the same thing: Right always triumphs. But it doesn’t, does it?”
“No. It never does save by accident.”
‚ÄúI do not think that is quite so,‚Äù Zora pondered aloud, ‚Äúand I am a little puzzled. I do not belong in this world where Right and Wrong get so mixed. With us yonder there is wrong, but we call it wrong‚ÅÝ‚Äîmostly. Oh, I don‚Äôt know; even there things are mixed.‚Äù She looked sadly at Mrs. ¬ÝVanderpool, and the fear that had been hovering behind her mistress‚Äôs eyes became visible.
‚ÄúIt was so beautiful,‚Äù said Zora. ‚ÄúI expected a great thing of you‚ÅÝ‚Äîa sacrifice. I do not blame you because you could not do it; and yet‚ÅÝ‚Äîyet, after this‚ÅÝ‚Äîdon‚Äôt you see?‚ÅÝ‚ÄîI cannot stay here.‚Äù
Mrs. ¬ÝVanderpool arose and walked over to her. She stood above her, in her silken morning-gown, her brown and gray sprinkled hair rising above the pale, strong-lined face.
“Zora,” she faltered, “will you leave me?”
Zora answered, ‚ÄúYes.‚Äù It was a soft ‚Äúyes,‚Äù a ‚Äúyes‚Äù full of pity and regret, but a ‚Äúyes‚Äù that Mrs. ¬ÝVanderpool knew in her soul to be final.
She sat down again on the lounge and her fingers crept along the cushions.
‚ÄúAmbassadorships come‚ÅÝ‚Äîhigh,‚Äù she said with a catch in her voice. Then after a pause: ‚ÄúWhen will you go, Zora?‚Äù
“When you leave for the summer.”