ey act up to their
own ideals, quite apart from us. And there was a touch of divinity in
Elisabeth's gladness just then, though the rest of her was extremely
human--and feminine at that.

On her way home she encountered Caleb Bateson going back to work after
dinner, and she told him to ask Mr. Thornley to come up to the Willows
that afternoon, as she wanted to see him. She preferred to send a verbal
message, as by so doing she postponed for a few hours that climbing-down
process which she so much disliked; although it is frequently easier to
climb down by means of one's pen than by means of one's tongue.

Christopher felt no pleasure in receiving her message. He was not angry
with her, although he marvelled at the unreasonableness and injustice of
a sex that thinks more of a day's pleasure than a life's devotion; he
did not know that it was over the life's devotion and not the day's
pleasure that Elisabeth had fought so hard that day; but his encounter
with her had strangely tired him, and taken the zest out of his life,
and he had no appetite for any more of such disastrous and inglorious
warfare.

But he obeyed her mandate all the same, having learned the important
political lesson that the fact of a Government's being in the wrong is
no excuse for not obeying the orders of that Government; and he waited
for her in the drawing-room at the Willows, looking out toward the
sunset and wondering how hard upon him Elisabeth was going to be. And
his thoughts were so full of her that he did not hear her come into the
room until she clasped both her hands round his arm and looked up into
his gloomy face, saying--

"Oh! Chris, I'm so dreadfully ashamed of myself."

The clouds were dispelled at once, and Christopher smiled as he had not
smiled for a week. "Never mind," he said, patting the hands that were on
his arm; "it's all right."

But Elisabeth, having set out upon the descent, was prepared to climb
down handsomely. "It isn't all right; it's all wrong. I was simply
fiendish to you, and I shall never forgive myself--never."

"Oh, yes; you will. And for goodness' sake don't worry over it. I'm glad
you have found out that I wasn't quite the selfish brute that I seemed;
and that's the end of the matter."

"Dear me! no; it isn't. It is only the beginning. I want to tell you how
dreadfully sorry I am, and to ask you to forgive me."

"I've nothing to forgive."

"Yes, you have; lots." And Elisabeth was nearer the mark t