ned, Jeff got to feeling detached again, discontented even,
and went for long tramps, sometimes with Alston Choate. Esther, seeing
them go by, looked after them in a consternation real enough to blanch
her damask cheek. What was the bond between them? Whatever bond they had
formed must be to the exclusion of her and her dear wishes, and their
amity enraged her.

Once, in walking, she saw Jeff turn in at Miss Amabel's gate, and she
did not swerve but actually finished her walk and came back that way
praying, with the concentration of thought which is an assault of will,
that he might be coming out and meet her. And it happened according to
her desire. There, at the gate was Jeff, handsomer, according to a
woman's jealous eye, than she had ever seen him, fresh-coloured, his
face set in a determination that was not feigned, hard, fit for any
muscular task more than the average man might do. Esther was looking her
prettiest. She continued to look her prettiest now, so far as woman's
art could serve her, for she could not know what moment might summon her
to bring her own special strength to bear. Jeff, at sight of her, took
off his hat, but stopped short standing inside the gate. Esther
understood. He wasn't going to commit her to walk with him where
Addington might see. She, too, stopped, her heart beating as fast as she
could have desired and giving her a bright accession of colour. Esther
greatly prized her damask cheek.

Jeff, feeling himself summoned, then came forward. He looked at her
gravely, and he was at a loss. How to address her! But Esther, with a
beguiling accent of gentleness, began.

"Isn't it strange?" she said, wistfully and even humbly, as if it were
not a question but a reflection of her own, not necessarily to be
answered.

"What is strange?" asked Jeff, with a kindly note she found reassuring.

"You and me," said Esther, "standing here, when--I don't believe you
were going to speak."

Her poor little smile looked piteous to him and the lift of her brows.
Jeff was sorry for her, sorry for them both. At that moment he was not
summoning energy to distrust her, and this was as she hoped.

"I'm sorry, Esther," he said impulsively. "I did mean to speak. It
wasn't that. I only don't mean to make you--in other folks' eyes, you
know--seem to be having anything to do with me when--when you don't want
to."

"When I don't want to!" Esther repeated. There was musing in the soft
voice, a kind of wonder.