watched for Hilda. On the stroke of ten I saw her coming.
She had a neat, brave, brisk way of walking, her head well up, as if
she was afraid of nothing. A few moments later I hailed her from under
my cedar, and after glancing up and down the street to see if anyone
was watching, she joined me there.

It was very dark. I could just make out her face. She was breathing
fast and had one hand pressed upon her heart.

"Thank you for coming, Hilda. You saw Mrs. Fulton and me in the hall?"

"And heard you."

"I'm throwing myself on your mercy, Hilda. Mrs. Fulton and I love each
other. When we get back to New York we are going to tell Mr. Fulton.
He will let Mrs. Fulton divorce him, and then we are to be married.
You'll be my friend, won't you, and not tell? There's been nothing
wrong, Hilda----"

"Only kisses."

"But if he found out from anyone but Mrs. Fulton--you see he isn't very
well and he might do something crazy--something tragic. You see if you
told him what you'd seen, he might act before anyone had a chance to
explain."

I was trying to make the matter sound more serious than I felt it to
be. Whatever happened, I did not think that Fulton was the kind of man
who forgets his education and his civilization, but I wanted, if I
could, to frighten Hilda into secrecy.

"You'd not want to get me all shot up, would you, Hilda?"

She was silent for a time, as if weighing pros and cons in her head.
Then she looked up at me and said:

"When _I_ saw, _I_ didn't do anything crazy."

"Hilda," I said, "he has to be hurt and you have to be hurt. That's
always been the way with love--it always will be."

She was silent again. Then she said in a low voice that carried with
it a certain power to thrill: "He'd die for her. And I'd die for you.
But he's only a worn-out glove, and I'm only a common servant. She
thinks she'd die for you, and you think you'd die for her. But you're
both wrong. A woman that won't stand by her babies isn't going to die
for anyone, not if she knows it. A man that gets to your age without
marrying any of the women he's gone with isn't going to die for anyone
if he can help it. Wait till you've crossed her selfish will a few
times and see how much she'll die for you; wait till she begins to use
you the way she used him. A whole lot you'll want to die
for--her--then----"

"I can't listen to this, Hilda."

"You _will_ listen, or else I'll scream and say you attacked me--a
wh