"Oh!" the man ejaculated. "Are you Mrs. Trott?"
"Yes, but what do you want?"
She thought he sighed as he courteously lifted his hat. "Mrs. Trott, I don't want to intrude," he began. "I am a friend of your son's wife from Cranston. She was in such deep distress that I and my family aided her. I helped her take a train this morning, but later decided to—"
"Oh, you are Joel Eperson, are you not?"
"Yes," was the answer.
Lizzie lowered her voice; her glance fell to the ground. "Tilly told me about you to-night—how kind you have always been to her and what a fine man you are."
Joel waved his hand disparagingly. "I am not a wise friend of hers, at any rate, Mrs. Trott," he sighed. "I ought not to have given in to her coming. But I didn't know that she—she— You see, she told me that she was going to stay at the cottage. If I had thought—"
"She insisted on staying here," Lizzie replied, plaintively apologetic. "She came before it was dark and insisted on staying. That is why I am up. Do you understand?"
Joel gravely inclined his head. "I understand," he said, "and it is fine and good of you, Mrs. Trott."
"And you were standing guard over her, too?" Lizzie went on.