She did not choose the way by which they had gone to the farmhouse, but turned into the long stretch of road leading past the cotton factory, and skirting the wide common where military parades are held.
It was a highway cheerful enough on a bright day, but unspeakably lonely and dreary on a dark night, when sky and earth were alike mournful. Soon she sank down on a stone by the roadside, and burst into a flood of passionate tears. “I cannot—I will not—it is not right! O God, show me my duty.” Then kneeling on the ground with her head against the stone, she prayed long and fervently.
It was some time before the struggle was over, the battle fought, but at last she arose, self under foot, as it usually was in her conflicts. She tried to shake the water from her garments, then patiently plodded on in the direction of the town, the electric lamps shining like signal lights before her.
A splashing sound behind made her pause suddenly and look back. There were the two lights of the carriage, Polypharmacy looming between them like a mountain of a horse. Her heart beat violently. How acutely her lover had guessed that she would take this road to the town. A wild first impulse to hide from him made her slip into the shadow of a building that she was passing.
He was driving slowly, and at every few paces was putting out his head and narrowly inspecting the road. “Stargarde, Stargarde,” she heard him say softly when he was at a little distance from her.
Something impelled her to go to him despite herself. “Here I am, Brian,” she said with a final convulsive sob, and wearily dragging her limbs over the miry way.
He dropped the reins, put out both hands and assisted her in beside him. “Poor child, you are very wet,” he said in his ordinary tone of voice; “you should not have run away from me.” Then seeing that she turned her face to the cloth-covered side of the buggy, he forebore further question or remark, and they drove in silence across the Common and down through the town to the Pavilion.
There he sprang out and assisted her to alight, then followed her to her room where she sat down beside a bright fire and shivered slightly.
“You will at once change your wet things,” he said.
She blushed deeply, but neither spoke nor looked at him till his hand was laid on the door. Then she turned her deep, blue eyes toward him. “Good Brian, dear patient Brian.”