He knew, a minute later, that he was saying something (he wondered afterward what it was) to Mr. Burke Denby out in the main shop. He knew, too, without looking up, that a woman and a little girl passed quietly by at the other side of the room and disappeared through the open doorway. Then, dazedly, Mr. Donald Estey looked about him. He was wondering if, after all, he had not been dreaming. That evening he learned that it was not a dream. Freely, and with a frank confidence that touched him deeply, the woman he had known as Mrs. Darling told him the whole story. He heard it with naturally varying emotions. He tried to be just, to be coolly unprejudiced. He tried also, to hide his own heartache. He even tried to be glad that she loved her husband, as she so unmistakably did. "And you'll tell him now, of course--where you are," he said, when she had finished. "No, no! I can't do that." "But do you think that is--right?" "I am sure it is." "But if your husband wants you--" "He doesn't want me." "Are you sure?" "Very sure." A curious look came to the man's eyes, a grim smile to his lips. "Er"--he hesitated a little--"you don't want to forget that--er--you have long ago qualified for--that _understudy_. You remember that--_I_ wanted you." The rich color that flamed into her face told that she fully understood what he meant, yet she shook her head vehemently. "No, no! Ah, please, don't jest about--that. I was very much in earnest--indeed, I was! And I thought then--that I really could--could-- But I understand--lots of things now that I never understood before. It is really all for Betty that I am working now. I want to make _her_--what he would want her to be." "Nonsense, my dear woman! As if you yourself were not the most--" She stopped him with a gesture. Her eyes had grown very serious. "I don't want you to talk that way, please. I would rather think--just of Betty." "But what about--him?" "I don't know." Her eyes grew fathomless. She turned them toward the window. "Of course I think and think and think. And of course I wonder--how it's all coming out. I'm sure I'm doing right now, and I think--I was doing right--then." "Then?" "When I went away--at the first. I can't see how I could have done anything else, as things were. Some way, all along, I've felt as if I were traveling a--a long road, and that on each side was a tall hedge. I can't look over it, nor through it. I can't even look ahead--very far. The road turns--so often. But there have never been any crossroads--there's never been any other way I could take, as I looked at it. Don't you see, Mr. Estey?" "Yes, I think I see." The old baffled pain had come back to his eyes, but she did not seem to notice it. Her gaze had drifted back to the window.