u know, is a station, and if you would put me on there at
eight o'clock in the morning no one at home would know anything about
it."

Joel's honest and worshipful eyes crept back to her face. "I see," he
said, slowly, "and your people would think that you were here under the
protection of my sister, my mother, and myself."

"Yes, Joel, but I have mentioned it to your mother and sister and they
see it as I do. They are women and understand. They were afraid,
however, that you would not want to do it, and so I came to you. You
must help me, Joel. As I see it, a deception of this sort is not wrong,
for it springs from a right motive."

Joel was deeply perturbed. His whole mental and spiritual being rose and
fell on the billows of indecision. Finally he asked: "Is it just to
visit the house and get some things? Is that all, Tilly?"

He saw her glance waver and sink to her lap. She took a deep, resolute
breath. "What is the use?" she said, tremulously. "I cannot lie to you,
Joel. You will either help me, knowing fully what I'm going for, or not
at all. Joel, I want to see John's mother."

"His mother?" The plain man started and recoiled. "But why, oh, why,
Tilly?"

She put her handkerchief to her writhing lips; she gulped and, with
lowered eyes, half sobbed: "Because she is John's mother--that's all,
Joel. I want to see, close at hand, the woman who gave my husband birth
and nursed him when he was a baby. I saw her once when she sat behind me
at a show. She looked at me and I looked at her. Somehow I think I'd
know her better than any one else. Joel, she has lost her child and I
have lost my husband. They have gone from us forever and ever. No power
on earth ought to keep us two apart. No one else can tell how I feel or
how she feels. I don't think she is as bad as people say, not deep down
in her heart, anyway. She's done wrong, but so have all of us. Joel, you
can help me or not, as you think best, but if you don't take me to that
train I shall walk to it alone. I know my duty before God, and I shall
do it. Joel, Joel, Joel"--she was speaking slowly, as if to formulate
into words thoughts which lay deep beneath the surface of her torn
being--"Joel, God is holding me accountable, in a way. Joel, if I had
not deserted John he would have been alive to-day. Something would have
arisen to have prevented my father from shooting him. I thought I was
acting for the best, but I was excited and terrified. Do you think,
feelin