It was on a beautiful day in late September that Helen Denby and her daughter arrived at the Dalton station. Helen, fearful either that her features would be recognized, or that she would betray by word or look her knowledge of the place, and so bring an amazed question to Betty's lips, had drawn a heavy veil over her face. Betty, cheerily interested in everything she saw, kept up a running fire of comment. "And so this is Dalton! What a funny little station--and for so big a place, too! It seemed to be big, as we came into it. Is Dalton a large town, mother?" "Why, rather large. It used to be--that is, it must be a good deal over fifteen thousand now, I suppose," murmured the mother, speaking very unconcernedly. "Then you've been here before?" Helen, realizing that already she had made one mistake, suddenly became convinced that safety--and certainly tranquillity of mind--lay in telling the truth--to a certain extent. "Oh, yes, I was here years ago. But the place is much changed, I fancy," she answered lightly. "Come, dear, we'll take a taxi. But first I want a paper. I want to look at the advertisements for a maid, and--" She had almost reached the newsstand when, to Betty's surprise, she turned sharply about and walked the other way. "Why, mother, I thought you said you wanted a paper," cried Betty, hurrying after her and plucking at her arm. "But I didn't-- I don't-- I've changed my mind. I won't get it, after all, just now. I'd rather hurry right home." She spoke rapidly, almost feverishly; and Betty noticed that she engaged the first cabby she saw, and seemed impatiently anxious to be off. What she did not see, however, was that twice her mother covertly glanced back at the newsstand, and that her face behind the veil was gray-white and terrified. And what Betty did not know was that, as the taxi started, her mother whispered frenziedly to herself:-- "That was--that was--Mrs. Cobb. She's older and grayer, but she's got Mrs. Cobb's eyes and nose. And the wart! I'd know that wart anywhere. And to think how near I came to _speaking_ to her!" It was a short drive, and Helen and her daughter were soon in the apartment the doctor had found for them. To Helen it looked like a haven of refuge, indeed. Her near encounter with Mrs. Cobb at the station had somewhat unnerved her. But with four friendly walls to protect her, and with no eyes but her daughter's in sight, Helen drew a long breath of relief, and threw off her veil, hat, and coat. "Oh, isn't this dear!" she exclaimed, sinking into a chair, and looking admiringly about the pretty rooms. "And just think--this is home, our home! Oh, dearie, we're going to be happy here, I'm sure." "Of course we are! And it is lovely here." The words were all right, but voice and eyes showed a trace of uneasiness. "Why, dearie, _don't_ you like it?" asked the girl's mother anxiously.