f belief. I believe it--Mr. Flint and my father do not. They see
the politicians, and I see the people. I belong to one generation, and
they to another. With the convictions they have, added to the fact that
they are in a position of heavy responsibility toward the owners of their
property, they cannot be blamed for hesitating to try any experiments."

"And the practices are--bad?" Victoria asked.

"They are entirely subversive of the principles of American government,
to say the least," replied Austen, grimly. He was thinking of the pass
which Mr. Flint had sent him, and of the kind of men Mr. Flint employed
to make the practices effective.

They descended into the darkness of a deep valley, scored out between the
hills by one of the rushing tributaries of the Blue. The moon fell down
behind the opposite ridge, and the road ran through a deep forest. He no
longer saw the shades of meaning in her face, but in the blackness of
Erebus he could have sensed her presence at his side. Speech, though of
this strange kind of which neither felt the strangeness, had come and
gone between them, and now silence spoke as eloquently. Twice or thrice
their eyes met through the gloom,--and there was light. At length she
spoke with the impulsiveness in her voice that he found so appealing.

"You must see my father--you must talk to him. He doesn't know how fair
you are!"

To Austen the inference was obvious that Mr. Flint had conceived for him
a special animosity, which he must have mentioned to Victoria, and this
inference opened the way to a wide speculation in which he was at once
elated and depressed. Why had he been so singled out? And had Victoria
defended him? Once before he remembered that she had told him he must see
Mr. Flint. They had gained the ridge now, and the moon had risen again
for them, striking black shadows from the maples on the granite-cropped
pastures. A little farther on was a road which might have been called the
rear entrance to Fairview.

What was he to say?

"I am afraid Mr. Flint has other things to do than to see me," he
answered. "If he wished to see me, he would say so."

"Would you go to see him, if he were to ask you?" said Victoria.

"Yes," he replied, "but that is not likely to happen. Indeed, you are
giving my opinion entirely too much importance in your father's eyes," he
added, with an attempt to carry it off lightly; "there is no more reason
why he should care to discuss the subject with