He told her. "They have been writing to me for weeks, and now the
moment for my decision has come. I haven't said anything to Jean. But
she won't keep me back. You know how she feels. But unless you can
come, I can't leave her."

"I should have to be all day in my shop."

"I know, but you could be here in the evening and at night, and she
could, of course, be with you in the shop, she likes that--and it would
keep her from brooding. Or, if you will give up the shop, I should
like to make it financially possible for you, Emily."

She shook her head. "No. You will be coming back, and then my
occupation would be gone." She hesitated. "But if I come--what of
Hilda?"

"She may decide to go over, too, as a nurse. We work well together."

She was silent, searching for the words which she felt that she ought
to say. So that was it? They would go together, and the tongues of
the world would wag. And Hilda would know that they were wagging, and
would not care. But he, with his mind on bigger things, would never
know, and would blunder unseeing into the net which was set for him.
She felt that she ought to warn him, that the good friendship which
existed between them demanded it. Yet it was a hard thing to say, and
she hated it. So the moment passed.

It was he who spoke first--of Jean and Derry. "What do you think of
it, Emily?"