There was a long silence; she had dried her tears and sat looking at Woburn with eyes full of helpless reliance. “Well,” he said at length, “you did right not to take that man’s money; but this isn’t the only alternative,” he added, pointing to the revolver. “I don’t know any other,” she answered wearily. “I’m not smart enough to get employment; I can’t make dresses or do type-writing, or any of the useful things they teach girls now; and besides, even if I could get work I couldn’t stand the loneliness. I can never hold my head up again--I can’t bear the disgrace. If I can’t go back to Joe I’d rather be dead.” “And if you go back to Joe it will be all right?” Woburn suggested with a smile. “Oh,” she cried, her whole face alight, “if I could only go back to Joe!” They were both silent again; Woburn sat with his hands in his pockets gazing at the floor. At length his silence seemed to rouse her to the unwontedness of the situation, and she rose from her seat, saying in a more constrained tone, “I don’t know why I’ve told you all this.” “Because you believed that I would help you,” Woburn answered, rising also; “and you were right; I’m going to send you home.” She colored vividly. “You told me I was right not to take Mr. Devine’s money,” she faltered. “Yes,” he answered, “but did Mr. Devine want to send you home?” “He wanted me to wait at his aunt’s a little while first and then write to Joe again.” “I don’t--I want you to start tomorrow morning; this morning, I mean. I’ll take you to the station and buy your ticket, and your husband can send me back the money.” “Oh, I can’t--I can’t--you mustn’t--” she stammered, reddening and paling. “Besides, they’ll never let me leave here without paying.” “How much do you owe?” “Fourteen dollars.” “Very well; I’ll pay that for you; you can leave me your revolver as a pledge. But you must start by the first train; have you any idea at what time it leaves the Grand Central?” “I think there’s one at eight.” He glanced at his watch. “In less than two hours, then; it’s after six now.” She stood before him with fascinated eyes. “You must have a very strong will,” she said. “When you talk like that you make me feel as if I had to do everything you say.” “Well, you must,” said Woburn lightly. “Man was made to be obeyed.” “Oh, you’re not like other men,” she returned; “I never heard a voice like yours; it’s so strong and kind. You must be a very good man; you remind me of Joe; I’m sure you’ve got just such a nature; and Joe is the best man I’ve ever seen.” Woburn made no reply, and she rambled on, with little pauses and fresh bursts of confidence.