ire across the lawn, convinced her so thoroughly that, like
a sensible girl, she packed up that night and went back to the city.

Perhaps it was that very look which also decided Spence. For decide he
did. There was no excuse for waiting longer. He must "have it out" with
John. Desire must be given her freedom. Of John's attitude he had small
doubt. His infatuation for Desire had been plain from the beginning.
Time had served only to centre and strengthen it. He could not in
justice blame John. He didn't blame John. That is to say, he would not
officially permit himself to blame John, though he knew very well that
he did blame him. A sense of the rights of other people as opposed to
one's own rights has been hardly gained by the Race, and is by no means
firmly seated yet. Let primitive passions slip control for an instant
and presto! good-bye to the rights of other people! The primitive man
in Spence would not have argued the matter. Having obtained his mate by
any means at all, it would have gone hard with anyone who, however
justly, attempted to take her from him. Today, at Mrs. Burton-Jones'
garden party, the acquired restraints of character seemed wearing thin.
The professor decided that it might be advisable to go home.

Desire and Mary noticed his absence at about the same time. And both
lost interest in the party with the suddenness of a light blown out.

"Things are moving," thought Mary with a thrill of triumph. But in
spite of her triumph she was angry. It is not pleasant to have the
power of one's rival so starkly revealed. Malice crept into her
faun-like eyes as she looked across to where Desire sat, a composed
young figure, listening with apparent interest to the biggest bore in
Bainbridge. What right had she to hold a man's hot heart between her
placid hands! Mary ground her parasol into Mrs. Burton-Jones' best sod
and her small white teeth shut grindingly behind her lips.

Desire was trying to listen to the little man with the enlarged ego who
attempted to entertain her. But she was very much aware of Mary and all
her moods. "She is selfish. She will make him miserable," thought
Desire. "But she will make him happy first. And, in any case, he must
be free."

"Yes, Mrs. Spence," the little man beside her was saying, "a man like
myself, however diffident, must be ready to do his full duty by the
community in which he lives. That is why I feel I must accept the
nomination for mayor of this town--if I am