"Oh, for myself, I'd do anything in the world for her. But a fellow has to show a little decent pride. A fellow owes something to his family, doesn't he? As a man I love the ground she walks on; as a Jones--well, if she feels like that about it--I told her she had better wait for a De Montmorency." "But she didn't say she wouldn't marry you, did she?" "N-o-o-o!" "She didn't ask you to _change_ your name, did she?" "N-o-o-o!" "And do you mean to say that just for one unfortunate remark--a remark that any one might have made in the agitation of the moment--you're deliberately turning your back on her, and her broken heart!" "Oh, she's red-hot, too, you know, over what I said about the Van Coorts." "She couldn't have realized that you belonged to the Connecticut Joneses. _I_ didn't know it. _I_--" "Well, it's all off now," he said. It was a mile to the depot. For Jones it was a mile of reproaches, scoldings, lectures and insults. For myself I shall ever remember it as the mile of my life. I pleaded, argued, extenuated and explained. My lifelong happiness--Freddy--the Seventy-second Street house--were walking away from me in the dark while I jerked unavailingly at Jones' coat-tails. The whole outfit disappeared into a car, leaving me on the platform with the ashes of my hopes. Of all obstinate, mulish, pig-headed, copper-riveted-- I was lucky enough to find Eleanor crying softly to herself in a corner of the veranda. The sight of her tears revived my fainting courage. I thought of Bruce and the spider, and waded in. "Eleanor," I said, "I've just been seeing poor Jones off." She sobbed out something to the effect that she didn't care. "No, you can't care very much," I said, "or you wouldn't send a man like that--a splendid fellow--a member of one of the oldest and proudest families of Connecticut--to his death." "Death?" "Well, he's off for Japan to-morrow. They're getting through fifty doctors a week out there at the front. They're shot down faster than they can set them up." I was unprepared for the effect of this on Eleanor. For two cents she would have fainted then and there. It's awful to hear a woman moan, and clench her teeth, and pant for breath. "Oh, Eleanor, can't you do anything?" "I am helpless, Ezra. My pride--my woman's pride--" "Oh, how can you let such trifles stand between you? Think of him out there, in his tattered Japanese uniform--so far from home, so lonely, so heartbroken--standing undaunted in that rain of steel, while--" "Oh, Ezra, stop! I can't bear it! I can't bear it!" "Is the love of three years to be thrown aside like an old glove, just because--" Her face was so wild and strained that the lies froze upon my tongue. "Oh, Ezra, I could follow him barefooted through the snow if only he--" "He's leaving Grand Central to-morrow at ten forty-five," I said. She fumbled at her neck, and almost tore away the diamond locket that reposed there.