Anne's face flooded. He was not acting as if Jeff, coming from an unspeakable place, mustn't be mentioned. He was asking exactly as if Jeff had been abroad and the ship was almost in. It was like a pilot boat going out to see that he got in safely. And feeling the circumstance greatly, she found herself answering with a slow seriousness which did, indeed, carry much dignity. "We are not sure. We think he may come directly through; but, on the other hand, he may be tired and not feel up to it." Choate smiled his irregular, queer smile. He was turning away now. "Tell him I shall be in soon," he said. "I fancy he'll remember me. Good-night." Lydia was hanging over the balustrade. "Who was it?" she asked, as Anne went up. Anne told her and because she looked dreamy and not displeased, Lydia asked: "Nice?" "Oh, yes," said Anne. "You've heard Farvie speak of him. Exactly what Farvie said." Lydia had gone some paces in undressing. She stood there in a white wrapper, with her hair in its long braid, and stared at Anne for a considering interval. "I think I'd better tell you," said she. "I've been to see her." There was but one person who could have been meant, and yet that was so impossible that Anne stared and asked: "Who?" They had always spoken of Esther as Esther, among themselves, quite familiarly, but now Lydia felt she would die rather than mention her name. "She is a hateful woman," said Lydia, "perfectly hateful." "But what did you go for?" Anne asked, in a gentle perplexity. "To find out," said Lydia, in a savage tearfulness, "what she means to do." "And what does she?" "Nothing." V