had yet poisoned the whole
countryside. And if in small things his results were so evil, how could
he tell that they would be better in the larger plans which he had
formed? If he could not pay the debts of a simple yokel without
disturbing the great laws of cause and effect which lie at the base of
all things, what could he hope for when he came to fill the treasury
of nations, to interfere with the complex conditions of trade, or to
provide for great masses of the population? He drew back with horror as
he dimly saw that vast problems faced him in which he might make errors
which all his money could not repair. The way of Providence was the
straight way. Yet he, a half-blind creature, must needs push in and
strive to alter and correct it. Would he be a benefactor? Might he not
rather prove to be the greatest malefactor that the world had seen?

But soon a calmer mood came upon him, and he rose and bathed his flushed
face and fevered brow. After all, was not there a field where all were
agreed that money might be well spent? It was not the way of nature, but
rather the way of man which he would alter. It was not Providence that
had ordained that folk should live half-starved and overcrowded in
dreary slums. That was the result of artificial conditions, and it
might well be healed by artificial means. Why should not his plans
be successful after all, and the world better for his discovery? Then
again, it was not the truth that he cast a blight on those with whom he
was brought in contact. There was Laura; who knew more of him than she
did, and yet how good and sweet and true she was! She at least had lost
nothing through knowing him. He would go down and see her. It would be
soothing to hear her voice, and to turn to her for words of sympathy in
this his hour of darkness.

The storm had died away, but a soft wind was blowing, and the smack of
the coming spring was in the air. He drew in the aromatic scent of the
fir-trees as he passed down the curving drive. Before him lay the long
sloping countryside, all dotted over with the farmsteadings and little
red cottages, with the morning sun striking slantwise upon their grey
roofs and glimmering windows. His heart yearned over all these people
with their manifold troubles, their little sordid miseries, their
strivings and hopings and petty soul-killing cares. How could he get
at them? How could he manage to lift the burden from them, and yet not
hinder them in their life a