e street floor. The Methodist Church, following its congregation to
the vicinity of old Anthony's farm, which was now cut up into city lots,
had abandoned the building, and it had become a garage. The penitentiary
had been moved outside the city limits, and near its old site was a
small cement-lined lake, the cheerful rendezvous in summer of bathing
children and thirsty dogs.

Lily was idle, for the first time in months. She wandered about, even
penetrating to those upper rooms sacred to her grandfather, to which he
had retired on Howard's marriage. How strangely commonplace they were
now, in the full light of day, and yet, when he was in them, the doors
closed and only Burton, his valet, in attendance, how mysterious they
became!

Increasingly, in later years, Lily had felt and resented the domination
of the old man. She resented her father's acquiescence in that
domination, her mother's good-humored tolerance of it. She herself had
accepted it, although unwillingly, but she knew, rather vaguely, that
the Lily Cardew who had gone away to the camp and the Lily Cardew who
stood that day before her grandfather's throne-like chair under its
lamp, were two entirely different people.

She was uneasy rather than defiant. She meant to keep the peace. She
had been brought up to the theory that no price was too great to pay for
peace. But she wondered, as she stood there, if that were entirely true.
She remembered something Willy Cameron had said about that very thing.

"What's wrong with your grandfather," he had said, truculently, and
waving his pipe, "is that everybody gets down and lets him walk on them.
If everybody lets a man use them as doormats, you can't blame him for
wiping his feet on them. Tell him that sometime, and see what happens."

"Tell him yourself!" said Lily.

He had smiled cheerfully. He had an engaging sort of smile.

"Maybe I will," he said. "I am a rising young man, and my voice may some
day be heard in the land. Sometimes I feel the elements of greatness in
me, sweet child. You haven't happened to notice it yourself, have you?"

He had gazed at her with solemn anxiety through the smoke of his pipe,
and had grinned when she remained silent.

Lily drew a long breath. All that delightful fooling was over; the hard
work was over. The nights were gone when they would wander like children
across the parade grounds, or past the bayonet school, with its rows of
tripods upholding imitation enemies made