accepted--your best; your _half_ best! Now, oh! now something--I think it
is God calling loud to them--is waking them up. They know--you cannot do
this thing alone; it is their duty, too--they must help you, for,
oh!"--Priscilla leaned toward him with tear-blinded eyes and pleading
hands--"For the sake of the--the little children of the world. Oh! men
are fathers, good fathers, but they have forgotten the part mothers must
take! We women cannot leave it all to you. It is wicked, wicked for women
to try! There is something mightier than our love--we are learning that!"

Travers took her in his arms. She was weeping miserably. His heart
yearned over her, for he feared she was feeling, as women sometimes did,
the awful weight of injustice men had unconsciously, often in deepest
love, laid upon them.

"Priscilla, you trust me; trust my love?"

"Yes."

"You believe me when I say that I see this--as you do--but that we only
differ as to methods?"

"I--I hope I see that and believe it."

"Then"--and here Travers did his poor, blind part to lay another straw
upon the drift of burden--"leave this--to me. I know better than you do
the end of any such mad course as you, in your affection and sense of
wrong, might take. Little girl, let me try to show you. Suppose you went
to Margaret Moffatt. You know her proud, sensitive nature; her loyalty
and absolute frankness. After the shock and torture she would go to her
father with the truth--for she would believe you--and announce her