anything to her (realize it or not as
she might), it was because he found strength to resist this greatest
temptation of his life. Yield, and his guerdon was lost, and he would be
Austen Vane no longer--yield, and his right to act, which would make him
of value in her eyes as well as in his own, was gone forever.

Well he knew what the question in her eyes meant or something of what it
meant, so inexplicably is the soul of woman linked to events. He had
pondered often on that which she had asked him when he had brought her
home over the hills in the autumn twilight. He remembered her words, and
the very inflection of her voice. "Then you won't tell me?" How could he
tell her? He became aware that she was speaking now, in an even tone.

"I had an odd experience this morning, when I was waiting for Mrs.
Pomfret outside the state-house," she said. "A man was standing looking
up at the statue of the patriot with a strange, rapt expression on his
face,--such a good face,--and he was so big and honest and uncompromising
I wanted to talk to him. I didn't realize that I was staring at him so
hard, because I was trying to remember where I had seen him before,--and
then I remembered suddenly that it was with you."

"With me?" Austen repeated.

"You were standing with him, in front of the little house, when I save
you yesterday. His name was Redbrook. It appears that he had seen me,"
Victoria replied, "when I went to Mercer to call on Zeb Meader. And he
asked me if I knew you."

"Of course you denied it," said Austen.

"I couldn't, very well," laughed Victoria, "because you had confessed to
the acquaintance first."

"He merely wished to have the fact corroborated. Mr. Redbrook is a man
who likes to be sure of his ground."

"He told me a very interesting thing about you," she continued slowly,
with her eye upon. Austen's profile. "He said that a great many men
wanted you to be their candidate for governor of the State,--more than
you had any idea of,--and that you wouldn't consent. Mr. Redbrook grew so
enthusiastic that he forgot, for the moment, my--relationship to the
railroad. He is not the only person with whom I have talked who has
--forgotten it, or hasn't known of it."

Austen was silent.

"Why won't you be a candidate," she asked, in a low voice, "if such men
as that want you?"

"I am afraid Mr. Redbrook exaggerates," he said. "The popular demand of
which he spoke is rather mythical. And I should be inclined t