THE TELEGRAM I It was the end of February 1880.

A day resembling spring had come, illusive, but exquisite.

Hilda, having started out too hurriedly for the office after the midday dinner, had had to return home for a proof which she had forgotten.
She now had the house to herself, as a kingdom over which she reigned; for, amid all her humiliation and pensive dejection, she had been able to exert sufficient harsh force to drive her mother to London in company with Miss Gailey.

She was alone, free; and she tasted her freedom to the point of ecstasy.

She conned corrected proofs at her meals: this was life.