-to
keep! Put out your hand."

Still silent, still with eyes averted, she held out her hand towards
him. Something cold clicked against the palm, something long and thin.
She opened her fingers, and beheld a morphia syringe.

"I--I shan't need it any more," stammered the voice. A hand, Lowther's
hand, came over her shoulder, mutely making appeal. Lilith dropped the
syringe, and caught the hand to her breast.

The next minute he was kneeling at her feet, and the two were gazing
deep into each other's eyes.

"Lilith," cried Lowther brokenly, "it--it will be hard... I shall have
a hard fight. Do you think you could _love_ me a little, Lilith?"

"I must love you," answered Lilith deeply, "a great deal, or it will be
no use!"

It was five years later when the Opposition came into power, and it
surprised nobody when Hereward Lowther was given a seat in the Cabinet.
During those five years husband and wife had lived quietly in their
little flat, going but little into society, affecting few of the
amusements of the day. When Parliament was sitting, Lilith was a
constant visitor to the Ladies' Gallery, and it was noted that her
husband never spoke when she was absent. In holiday time her chief
interest lay in the study of the problems of modern life; but, as on
that first tour abroad, she studied first-hand, and not through the
medium of books. Lowther felt it an extraordinary coincidence that her
inquiries so often proved of value to himself, and always, under every
circumstance, Lilith's immovable serenity was as a rock, against which
his weaker, more excitable nature found support. Lowther questioned
himself sometimes as to the explanation of his wife's unshaken calm, and
came to the conclusion that it sprang from a certain obtuseness or
stupidity of brain, but he smiled as he mentally voiced the thought, and
his smile was tender. He loved his wife; she was a dear girl, tactful,
unassuming. He was thankful that she was not clever.

Five years spread a kindly veil over the public memory, and there were
few people who troubled to recall Lowther's temporary lapse. That was
an affair of the past. What mattered now was that he was one of the
most brilliant and valuable men in the House, and that the country
needed his services. As a politician he was able and statesmanlike, but
he was a politician second and a patriot first. The glory of office
counted for nothing with him in comparison with the glory of hi