ut it, I will never speak to
Robert Lloyd again as long as I live," declared Ellen.

"Never mind, child," whispered Andrew.

"I do mind, and I mean what I say," Ellen cried. "I won't have it.
Robert Lloyd is nothing to me, and I am nothing to him. He is no
better than Granville Joy. There is nothing between us, and you make
me too ashamed to think of him."

Then the old woman cried out, in a tone of triumph, "Well, there he
is, turnin' in at your gate now."

Chapter XXIX

Ellen rose without a word, and fled out of the room and out of the
house. It seemed to her, after what had happened, after what her
mother and grandmother had said and insinuated, after what she
herself had thought and felt, that she must. She longed to see
Robert Lloyd, to hear him speak, as she had never longed for
anything in the world, and yet she ran away as if she were driven to
obey some law which was coeval with the first woman and beyond all
volition of her individual self.

When she reached the head of the little cross street on which the
Atkinses lived, she turned into it with relief. The Atkins house was
a tiny cottage, with a little kitchen ell, and a sagging piazza
across the front. On this piazza were shadowy figures, and the dull,
red gleam of pipes, and one fiery tip of a cigar. Joe Atkins, and
Sargent, and two other men were sitting out there in the cool of the
evening. Ellen hurried around the curve of the foot-path to the
kitchen door. Abby was in there, working with the swift precision of
a machine. She washed and wiped dishes as if in a sort of fury, her
thin elbows jerking, her mouth compressed.

When Ellen entered, Abby stared, then her whole face lighted up, as
if from some internal lamp. "Why, Ellen, is that you?" she said, in
a surprisingly sweet voice. Sometimes Abby's sharp American voice
rang with the sweetness of a soft bell.

"I thought I'd run over a minute," said Ellen.

The other girl looked sharply at her. "Why, what's the matter?" she
said.

"Nothing is the matter. Why?"

"Why, I thought you looked sort of queer. Maybe it's the light. Sit
down; I'll have the dishes done in a minute, then we'll go into the
sitting-room."

"I'd rather stay out here with you," said Ellen.

Abby looked at her again. "There is something the matter, Ellen
Brewster," said she; "you can't cheat me. You would never have run
over here this way in the world. What has happened?"

"Let's go up to your room after the d