Upon Dick's return from his Cleveland trip, he had thrown himself into
his work with feverish energy, while in his heart the struggle between
love and prejudice continued. But as the weeks went by and Amy's letters
had come, telling of her life on the farm, and how she was learning
to be of use in the world; and as he had read between the lines, of
her new ideas and changed views of life, his love had grown stronger
and had almost won the fight. Then a letter came, bidding him good-bye,
and telling him that she was going away again, and that for her sake,
he must not try to find her; that she was deeply grateful for all that
he had done, but it was best that he forget that he had ever known her.
Dick was hurt and dismayed. It seemed to him that she had given up,
and the devil, Doubt, ever ready to place a wrong construction upon
the words and deeds of mortals, sent him into the black depths of
despair again.
"I never saw such a man," declared George Udell to Clara Wilson, one
evening, as they caught a glimpse of him bending over a desk in Mr.
Wicks' office, "he works like a fiend."
"Like an angel, you'd better say," replied Clara. "Didn't I tell you
that he was no common tramp?"
"Yes, dear, of course; and you never made a mistake in your life; that
is, never but once."
"When was that?" asked Clara curiously.
"When you said 'No' to me night before last. Won't you reconsider it,
and--"
"Where do you suppose Amy Goodrich is now?" interrupted the young lady.
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