"

Lydia had never thought much about things that were wicked. Either they
were brave things to do and you did them if you wanted to, or they were
underhand, hideous things and then you didn't want to do them. But
suddenly Esther seemed to her something floating, tossed and driven to
be caught up and saved from being swamped by what seas she knew not.
Jeff walked over to the dark figure by the truck. Whether he had
expected it to be Esther he could not have said, but even as it shrank
from him he knew.

"Come," said he. "Come home with me."

Esther stood perfectly silent like a shrinking wild thing endowed with a
protective catalepsy.

"Esther," said he, "I know where you're going. You mustn't go. You
sha'n't. Come home with me."

And as she did not move or answer he put his arm through hers and guided
her away. Just beyond the corner of the station in a back eddy of
solitude, she flung him off and darted three or four steps obliquely
before he caught her up and held her. Lydia, standing in the shadow, her
heart beating hard, heard his unmoved voice.

"Esther, you're not afraid of me? Come home with me. I won't touch you
if you'll promise to come. I can't let you go. I can't. It would be the
worst thing that ever happened to you."

"How do you know," she called, in a high hysterical voice, "where I'm
going?"

"You were going with somebody you mustn't go with," said Jeff. "We won't
talk about him. If he were here I shouldn't touch him. He's only a
fool. And it's your fault if you're going. But you mustn't go."

"I am going," said Esther, "to New York, and I have a perfect right to.
I shall spend a few days and get rested. Anybody that tells you anything
else tells lies."

"The train is coming," said Jeff. "Stand here, if you won't walk away
with me, and we'll let it go."

She tried again to wrench herself free, but she could not. Lydia,
standing in the shadow, felt a passionate sympathy. He was kind, Lydia
saw, he was compelling, but if he could have told the distracted
creature he had something to offer her beyond the bare protection of an
honourable intent, then she might have seen another gate open besides
the one that led nowhere. Almost, at that moment, Lydia would have had
him sorry enough to put his arms about her and offer the semblance of
love that is divinest sympathy. The train stopped for its appointed
minutes and went on.

"Come," said Jeff, "now we'll go home."

She turned and walked with