She got on her feet with a spring! Her spiritual energy was like her physical energy that night on the mountain. Again she was lifting--lifting! This time it was the weight of a Love which might die! She was dragging it, carrying it! her very soul straining under her purpose of keeping it alive by the touch of a child's hand! ... Why not go and see Lily _now_? "She'll have finished her supper by the time I get to her house; it's at the very end of Maple Street!" If Lily consented, Eleanor might even get back to her own house in time to see Maurice, and tell him what she had accomplished before he started for his train! But she would have to hurry.... She actually ran out of the park toward the street; then stood for an endless five minutes, waiting for the Medfield car. "Perhaps I can make her let me bring Jacky home with me!" she said--which showed to what heights beyond common sense she had risen. At the little house on Maple Street she rang the bell, though she had a crazy impulse to bang upon the door to hurry Lily! But she rang, and rang again, before she heard a child's voice: "Maw. Somebody at the door." "Well, go open it, can't you?" She heard little scuffing steps on the oilcloth in the hall; then the door opened, and Jacky stood there. He fixed his blue, impersonal eyes upon her, and waited. "Is your mother in?" Eleanor said, breathlessly. "Yes, ma'am," said Jacky. "Who is it?" Lily called to him; she was somewhere in the back of the house, and Eleanor could hear the clatter of dishes being gathered up from an unseen supper table. Jacky, unable to answer his mother's question, was calmly silent. "My land! That child's a reg'lar dummy! Jacky, who _is_ it?" "_I_ do' know," Jacky called back. "I am Mrs. Curtis," Eleanor said; "I want to see your mother." "She says," Jacky called--then paused, because it occurred to him to hang on to the door knob and swing back and forth, his heels scraping over the oilcloth; "she says," said Jacky, "she's Mrs. Curtis." The noise of the dishes stopped short. In the dining room Lily stood stock-still; "My God!" she said. Then her eyes narrowed and her jaw set; she whipped off her apron and turned down her sleeves; she had made up her mind: "_I'll lie it through._" She came out in the hall, which was scented with rose geraniums and reeked with the smell of bacon fat, and said, with mincing politeness, "Were you wishing to see me?" "Yes," Eleanor said. "Step right in," said Lily, opening the parlor door. "Won't you be seated?" Then she struck a match on the sole of her shoe, lit the gas, blew out the match, and turned to look at her visitor. She put her hand over her mouth and gasped. Under her breath she said, "His _mother_!" "Mrs. Dale," Eleanor began-- "Well, there!" said Lily, pleasantly (but she was pale); "I guess you have the advantage of me. What did you say your name was?" "My name is Curtis. Mrs. Dale, I--I know about your little boy."