pleasurable to spend a day or two at the elegant hostelry. In her love of the famous hotel she was much like a little girl.
She slept until almost noon the next day and awoke much refreshed. She took a warm bath and then had breakfast served in her room. Once more she was being reborn. It was fun planning a new life. As soon as she was dressed, she sauntered out to browse around the shops. She had to buy a complete new wardrobe. It was somewhat like buying a trousseau.
Perhaps that's what it was. She was going off on a honeymoon and would snatch a husband enroute. She laughed softly as this thought came to her. Dying might be a great adventure but living was interesting too. At least now and then she had found life worth while.
Over lunch, she tried to make up her mind what to do. There was no use remaining at the Palmer House. It would be too dangerous. If they caught her trying to smuggle men up to her room, she would be thrown out. There was never a question but what she would go back to the trade for which she was most fitted.
However she decided that it would not be wise to remain in Chicago. If Monty Camp were alive some day she would be sure to meet him, and she had no intention of resuming residence with him. She did not wish to quarrel with him. He had treated her too decently for that. Far better would it be for her to leave town. There was nothing to hold her in Chicago. It was a fine city but all cities were interesting.
She decided after due deliberation that she would return to Peoria but she had no intention of going back to live with Hattie Holt. Louella lived solely in the present. The past was a closed door. She did not wish to open it again. There was no going back. The past was dead. The future was living, filled with promise. She had no liking to walk among corpses. If she looked back, she might be plagued by regrets. But by looking forward there could be no regrets.
She did not consider it looking backward to keep in touch with her brother. While still at the Palmer House she wrote him one of her rare letters. She was, she informed him, again visiting in Chicago, on her annual vacation. She would love
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