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not extraordinary when you reflect what I have been； and that they
know my history。〃
〃Not through me；〃 said Shelton quickly； 〃for I don't know it myself。〃
〃It's enough；〃 the vagrant said； 〃that they feel I'm not a bird of
their feather。 They cannot change； neither can I。 I have never
wanted to remain where I 'm not welcome。〃
Shelton turned to the window； and stared into the darkness； he would
never quite understand this vagabond； so delicate； so cynical； and he
wondered if Ferrand had been swallowing down the words； 〃Why； even
you won't be sorry to see my back！〃
〃Well；〃 he said at last； 〃if you must go； you must。 When do you
start？〃
〃I 've arranged with a man to carry my things to the early train。 I
think it better not to say good…bye。 I 've written a letter instead；
here it is。 I left it open for you to read if you should wish；〃
〃Then；〃 said Shelton； with a curious mingling of relief； regret；
good…will； 〃I sha'n't see you again？〃
Ferrand gave his hand a stealthy rub； and held it out。
〃I shall never forget what you have done for me；〃 he said。
〃Mind you write；〃 said Shelton。
〃Yes； yes〃the； vagrant's face was oddly twisted〃you don't know
what a difference it makes to have a correspondent； it gives one
courage。 I hope to remain a long time in correspondence with you。〃
〃I dare say you do；〃 thought Shelton grimly； with a certain queer
emotion。
〃You will do me the justice to remember that I have never asked you
for anything；〃 said Ferrand。 〃Thank you a thousand times。
Good…bye！〃
He again wrung his patron's hand in his damp grasp； and； going out；
left Shelton with an odd sensation in his throat。 〃You will do me
the justice to remember that I have never asked you for anything。〃
The phrase seemed strange； and his mind flew back over all this queer
acquaintanceship。 It was a fact： from the beginning to the end the
youth had never really asked for anything。 Shelton sat down on his
bed； and began to read the letter in his hand。 It was in French。
DEAR MADAME （it ran）；
It will be insupportable to me； after your kindness； if you take me
for ungrateful。 Unfortunately； a crisis has arrived which plunges me
into the necessity of leaving your hospitality。 In all lives； as you
are well aware； there arise occasions that one cannot govern； and I
know that you will pardon me that I enter into no explanation on an
event which gives me great chagrin； and； above all； renders me
subject to an imputation of ingratitude； which； believe me； dear
Madame； by no means lies in my character。 I know well enough that it
is a breach of politeness to leave you without in person conveying
the expression of my profound reconnaissance； but if you consider how
hard it is for me to be compelled to abandon all that is so
distinguished in domestic life； you will forgive my weakness。 People
like me； who have gone through existence with their eyes open； have
remarked that those who are endowed with riches have a right to look
down on such as are not by wealth and breeding fitted to occupy the
same position。 I shall never dispute a right so natural and
salutary； seeing that without this distinction； this superiority；
which makes of the well…born and the well…bred a race apart； the rest
of the world would have no standard by which to rule their lives； no
anchor to throw into the depths of that vast sea of fortune and of
misfortune on which we others drive before the wind。 It is because
of this； dear Madame； that I regard myself so doubly fortunate to
have been able for a few minutes in this bitter pilgrimage called
life； to sit beneath the tree of safety。 To have been able； if only
for an hour； to sit and set the pilgrims pass； the pilgrims with the
blistered feet and ragged clothes； and who yet； dear Madame； guard
within their hearts a certain joy in life； illegal joy； like the
desert air which travellers will tell you fills men as with wine to
be able thus to sit an hour； and with a smile to watch them pass；
lame and blind； in all the rags of their deserved misfortunes； can
you not conceive； dear Madame； how that must be for such as I a
comfort？ Whatever one may say； it is sweet； from a position of
security； to watch the sufferings of others； it gives one a good
sensation in the heart。
In writing this； I recollect that I myself once had the chance of
passing all my life in this enviable safety； and as you may suppose；
dear Madame； I curse myself that I should ever have had the courage
to step beyond the boundaries of this fine tranquil state。 Yet； too；
there have been times when I have asked myself： 〃Do we really differ
from the wealthywe others； birds of the fields； who have our own
philosophy； grown from the pains of needing breadwe who see that
the human heart is not always an affair of figures； or of those good
maxims that one finds in copy…booksdo we really differ？〃 It is
with shame that I confess to have asked myself a question so
heretical。 But now； when for these four weeks I have had the fortune
of this rest beneath your roof； I see how wrong I was to entertain
such doubts。 It is a great happiness to have decided once for all
this point； for it is not in my character to pass through life
uncertainmistaken； perhapson psychological matters such as these。
No； Madame； rest happily assured that there is a great difference；
which in the future will be sacred for me。 For； believe me； Madame；
it would be calamity for high Society if by chance there should arise
amongst them any understanding of all that side of life whichvast
as the plains and bitter as the sea； black as the ashes of a corpse；
and yet more free than any wings of birds who fly awayis so justly
beyond the grasp of their philosophy。 Yes； believe me； dear Madame；
there is no danger in the world so much to be avoided by all the
members of that circle； most illustrious； most respectable； called
high Society。
》From what I have said you may imagine how hard it is for me to take
my flight。 I shall always keep for you the most distinguished
sentiments。 With the expression of my full regard for you and your
good family； and of a gratitude as sincere as it is badly worded；
Believe me； dear Madame；
Your devoted
LOUIS FERRAND。
Shelton's first impulse was to tear the letter up； but this he
reflected he had no right to do。 Remembering； too； that Mrs。
Dennant's French was orthodox； he felt sure she would never
understand the young foreigner's subtle innuendoes。 He closed the
envelope and went to bed； haunted still by Ferrand's parting look。
It was with no small feeling of embarrassment； however； that； having
sent the letter to its destination by an early footman； he made his
appearance at the breakfast…table。 Behind the Austrian coffee…urn；
filled with French coffee； Mrs。 Dennant； who had