heart seemed to turn within him.... However, sympathy was not desired of
him: his lot was but to strengthen the hands of the brave.

"Miss Heth--indeed, I could envy you all the happiness you are going to
give. Think--just think what it means ... I know you must be eager--to
begin, to--"

"To begin?" she echoed again, feeling somehow that their privacy was
being invaded. "Why--what do you mean?... I don't understand."

"I jump ahead too fast, of course. But--you must be so anxious ... to
have it all off your mind, and not think of it any more. I know you must
be impatient to get word to Dal at the first possible moment--it means
so much to him. More than meat and drink.... And then there's his poor
old father ..."

Cally stared at him, speechless. There was no exaltation now; no more
soaring. Rooted in her tracks she stood, yet seemed to herself to
shrink and recoil from him, in her sudden self-horror. What, oh what,
had she done?

And by chance at this very moment--doubtless through some Settlementer's
opening a door for air--there came floating down to her the distinct
voice of her mother, the strong voice of authority and no nonsense, the
voice of Wealth and Permanence, of the victorious knowledge that God
thinks twice before he condemns a person of quality.... "_In accepting
the Chairmanship of the Finance Committee, I desire to say_ ..."

Cally raised a gloved little hand to her veiled lips. Plainer than
speech her frightened eyes said: _Hast thou found me, O mine enemy?_