Her face was hidden in her sister's shoulder, and her whole body had drooped against Joanna's side, utterly weary after three days of travel and disillusioned loneliness. "Reckon I'm glad you've come back, dearie--and I won't ask you any more questions. I'm a cross-grained, cantankerous old thing, but you'll stop along of me a bit, won't you?" "Yes," said Ellen, "you're all I've got in the world." "Arthur ud take you back any day you ask it," said Joanna, thinking this a good time for mediation. "No--no!" cried Ellen, beginning to cry again--"I won't stay if you try to make me go back to Arthur. If he had the slightest feeling for me he would let me divorce him." "How could you?--seeing that he's been a pattern all his life." "He needn't do anything wrong--he need only pretend to. The lawyers ud fix it up." Ellen was getting French again. Joanna pushed her off her shoulder. "Really, Ellen Alce, I'm ashamed of you--that you should speak such words! What upsets me most is that you don't seem to see how wrong you've done. Don't you never read your Bible any more?" "No," sobbed Ellen. "Well, there's lots in the Bible about people like you--you're called by your right name there, and it ain't a pretty one. Some are spoken uncommon hard of, and some were forgiven because they loved much. Seemingly you haven't loved much, so I don't see how you expect to be forgiven. And there's lots in the Prayer Book too ... the Bible and the Prayer Book both say you've done wrong, and you don't seem to mind--all you think of is how you can get out of your trouble. Reckon you're like a child that's done wrong and thinks of nothing but coaxing round so as not to be punished." "I have been punished." "Not half what you deserve." "It's all very well for you to say that--you don't understand; and what's more, you never will. You're a hard woman, Jo--because you've never had the temptations that ordinary women have to fight against." "How dare you say that?--Temptation!--Reckon I know ..." A sudden memory of those painful and humiliating moments when she had fought with those strange powers and discontents, made Joanna turn hot with shame. The realization that she had come very close to Ellen's sin in her heart did not make her more relenting towards the sinner--on the contrary, she hardened. "Anyways, I've said enough to you for to-night." "I hope you don't mean to say more to-morrow." "No--I don't know that I do. Reckon you're right, and we don't get any good from 'having things out.' Seemingly we speak with different tongues, and think with different hearts." She stood up, and her huge shadow sped over the ceiling, hanging over Ellen as she crouched on the bed. Then she stalked out of the room, almost majestic in her turkey-red dressing-gown. Sec.33