On the depot platform, as they moved toward the street, the young man still held his place near the woman who had so awakened his pitying interest.  The three Overland passengers were met by a heavy-faced thick-necked man who escorted them to a luxurious touring car.

The invalid and his daughter had entered the automobile when their escort, in turning toward the other member of the party, saw the woman with the disfigured face—­who was now quite near.  Instantly, he paused.  And there was a smile of recognition on his somewhat coarse features as, lifting his hat, he bowed with—­the young man fancied—­condescending politeness.  The woman standing by his side with her hand upon the door of the automobile, seeing her companion saluting some one, turned—­and the next moment, the two women, whose features seemed so like—­yet so unlike—­were face to face.

The young man saw the woman with the disfigured face stop short.  For an instant, she stood as though dazed by an unexpected blow.  Then, holding out her hands with a half-pleading, half-groping gesture, she staggered and would have fallen had he not stepped to her side.

“Permit me, madam; you are ill.”

She neither spoke nor moved; but, with her eyes fixed upon the woman by the automobile, allowed him to support her—­seemingly unconscious of his presence.  And never before had the young man seen such anguish of spirit written in a human countenance.

The one who had saluted her, advanced—­as though to offer his services.  But, as he moved toward her, she shrank back with a low—­“No, no!” And such a look of horror and fear came into her eyes that the man by her side felt his muscles tense with indignation.

Looking straight into the heavy face of the stranger, he said curtly, “I think you had better go on.”

With a careless shrug, the other turned and went back to the automobile, where he spoke in a low tone to his companions.

The woman, who had been watching with a cold indifference, stepped into the car.  The man took his seat by the chauffeur.  As the big machine moved away, the woman with the disfigured face, again made as if to stretch forth her hands in a pleading gesture.

The young man spoke pityingly; “May I assist you to a carriage, madam?”

At his words, she looked up at him and—­seeming to find in his face the strength she needed—­answered in a low voice, “Thank you, sir; I am better now.  I will he all right, presently, if you will put me on the car.”  She indicated a street-car that was just stopping at the crossing.

“Are you quite sure that you are strong enough?” he asked kindly, as he walked with her toward the car.

“Yes,”—­with a sad attempt to smile,—­“yes, and I thank you very much, sir, for your gentle courtesy.”

He assisted her up the step of the car, and stood with bared head as she passed inside, and the conductor gave the signal.