Elfride had known no more about the stings of evil report than the native wild-fowl knew of the effects of Crusoe's first shot.

Now she saw a little further, and a little further still.
The train stopped.

Stephen relinquished the soft hand he had held all the day, and proceeded to assist her on to the platform.
This act of alighting upon strange ground seemed all that was wanted to complete a resolution within her.
She looked at her betrothed with despairing eyes.
'O Stephen,' she exclaimed, 'I am so miserable! I must go home again--I must--I must! Forgive my wretched vacillation.

I don't like it here--nor myself--nor you!' Stephen looked bewildered, and did not speak.
'Will you allow me to go home ?' she implored.

'I won't trouble you to go with me.