suppose. If he had been
weak with Lena, he knew that he had also been strong. He had withheld
his hand from taking all, when she would have offered no resistance to
his will. Surely, that counted for much, and his temptation had been
great. Cheered by this thought, little realising that the very
simplicity of his position would make it difficult for his wife to
understand, that the vulgarity of his temptation was to her its worst
feature, he glanced down the long avenue with a sudden sentiment at the
thought of passing her home.

This street, because of its width, the absence of car-tracks, and its
comparative freedom from heavy traffic, was often the scene of races in
the winter, and now he saw a group of sleighs ready for the start. As
the bunch drew away, his own horse came abreast of the others, and
without prearrangement he found himself racing side by side with
Anthony Cobbens.

"Well met, Mr. Mayor!" the lawyer cried cheerily. "I 'll race you down
to College Street."

Emmet glanced at his opponent, and shouted his acceptance of the
challenge, his sporting-blood surging suddenly to his very finger-tips.
As he gave his mare the whip and held her in from breaking, he looked
once more at the figure whizzing along by his side against the western
light. Something in the pink, pinched face, the red, eager eyes,
appealed to his sense of humour, and he laughed aloud. Emmet had more
than one reason for wishing to beat this man. He had worsted his
candidate in the election, and now he would show him a clean pair of
heels in the race. His heart beat with exultation as they two drew
away from the others. For a moment the thought of Felicity flashed
through his mind as they passed her house and the nose of his pacer was
shoved an inch ahead of her opponent.

"Good girl," he murmured, squaring his jaw; "good girl. Steady there,
steady."

The feathery snow flew up in whirls from the flying heels. Pedestrians
on the sidewalk paused and cheered as they flashed by under the bending
branches of the elms, under the electric lights that were just then
beginning their sputtering struggle for supremacy against the sunset.
Emmet had learned to handle horses during an apprenticeship at the
race-track in his boyhood, and now the judgment with which he had
selected his pacer was amply vindicated. Her steaming flanks swung
powerful and free; her long stride just missed the dashboard of the
sleigh. As he lightly touched