He would be to her what he had ever been, breezy comrade, merry friend—­romantic cavalier, perhaps, but in such a fashion as to convince her that he was only playing at romance.  It had always been his attitude towards her, and she anticipated no change.  The boy’s natural chivalry had moved her to accept his help, though she well knew that the step she had taken was a desperate one, even for one of the wild Everards.  That it would fulfil its purpose she did not doubt.  Her husband, she was fully convinced, would take no further steps to deprive her of her liberty.  Her notions of legal procedure in such a case were of the haziest, but she had not the faintest doubt that this last, wildest escapade of hers would sooner or later procure her her freedom from the chain that so galled her.

And yet she started and shivered at every creak of the crazy vehicle that was bearing her to the haven of her emancipation.  She was horribly, unreasonably afraid, now that she had taken this rash step.  Would it upset her father very greatly, she wondered?  But surely he would not think badly of her for making a way of escape for herself.  He had been powerless to deliver her.  Surely, surely he would understand!

The cab jolted to a standstill, and out of the darkness came an eager, boyish voice, bidding her welcome.  An impetuous hand wrenched open the door, and she and Jerry were face to face.

She never recalled afterwards crossing the threshold of his little abode.  She was numbed and weary in mind and body.  But she found herself at length seated before a bright fire, with a cup of steaming tea in her hand, and Jerry hovering about her in high delight; and the comfort of his welcome revived her at length to an active realization of her surroundings.

Clearly the adventure, mad, lawless as it undoubtedly was, was nothing but a picnic to him.  He was enjoying himself immensely without a thought of any possible consequences, and it was plain that this was the attitude in which he expected her to regard the matter.

With an effort she responded to his mood, but she could not shake off the burden of doubt and foreboding that oppressed her.  She felt as if the long, bitter journey had in some fashion aged her.  Jerry’s gaiety was as the prattle of a child to her now.  They had been children together till that day, but she felt that they could never be so again.  Never before had she stopped in her headlong course to look ahead, to count the cost!  Now, for the first time, misgivings arose within her upon Jerry’s score.  What if this boy who had lent himself so lightly, so absolutely freely, to her scheme for deliverance, were made in any way to suffer for his reckless generosity?  For this it had been with him—­and this only—­as she well knew.

With sheer, boyish gallantry, he had offered his protection; with sheer, girlish recklessness, she had accepted it.  And now—­now she had in a few hours crossed the boundary between childhood and womanhood and she stood aghast, asking herself what she had done!