nse of tension. Penhallow was a man slow in
thinking out conclusions, but in times demanding action swiftly decisive.
He had at last settled in his mind that he must leave his party and
follow a leader he had known in the army and never entirely trusted.
Whether he should take an active share in the politics of the county
troubled him, as he had told Rivers. He must, of course, tell his wife
how he had resolved to vote. To speak here and there at meetings, to
throw himself into the contest, was quite another matter. His wife would
feel deeply grieved. Between the two influential feelings the resolution
of forces, as he put it to himself with a sad smile, decided him to hold
his tongue so far as the outer world was concerned, to vote for the
principles unfortunately represented by Fremont, but to have one frank
talk with Ann Penhallow. There was no need to do this as yet, and he
smiled again at the thought that Mrs. Ann was, as he pretty well knew,
playing the game of politics at Westways. He might stop her. He could ask
her to hold her hand, but to let her continue on her way and to openly
make war against her, that he could not do. It did not matter much as the
State in any case would go for Buchanan. He hesitated, and had better
have been plain with her. She knew that he had been long in doubt, but
did not as yet suspect how complete was his desertion of opinions she
held to as she did to her religious creed. He found relief in his
decision, and too in freedom of talk with Rivers, who looked upon slavery
as simply wicked and had no charity for the section so little responsible
for an inherited curse they were now driven by opponent criticism to
consider a blessing for all concerned.

John too was asking questions and beginning now and then to wonder more
and more that what Westways discussed should never be mentioned at Grey
Pine. He rode Dixy early in the mornings with Leila at his side, fished
or swam in the afternoons, and so the days ran on. On September 30th, Ann
was to take Leila to the school in Maryland. Three days before this
terrible exile was to begin, as they turned in at the gate of the
stable-yard, Leila said, "I have only three days. I want to go and see
the Indian graves and the spring, and all the dear places I feel as if I
shall never see again."

"What nonsense, Leila. What do you mean?"

"Oh, Aunt Ann says I will be so changed in a year, I won't know myself."

"You mean, you won't see things the