rm. The intemperate radicals were the only ones
declaiming against "compromise with the devil." But the new conditions
were revealing the real colors of those impractical zealots, and it was
plain that their noisy minority would no longer be allowed to bluster
down the truer and more equable spirit of "the best for all the people."
The men and women of the State were taking time to analyze some of those
high-sounding phrases with which so-called temperance had disguised
vicious theories which left human nature out of the equation.

The politicians of the old school remained aloof.

They were pointing to "the wreck of the party."

"And I'll be passed down to history as the wrecker," said the Governor,
talking to Harlan under the big elm. "But you've got strong arms, my
boy. I can see that you'll have much to do in building anew out of the
wreck, you and those who are beginning to appreciate you. I can see a
future of much promise for you, Harlan."

"I'll be politely, but firmly, invited to go back to the woods,"
protested the young man.

"You'll not be allowed to do it," replied the Governor, quietly. "You
have been tested for your honesty. These newer times have eyes to
recognize that quality. And the rogues are being smoked out. But
remember that even the end of time will not find all questions solved.
That thought will have to serve you for consolation."

That was hardly the consolation that would satisfy impetuous youth and
zeal in accomplishment.

But Harlan had been learning lessons in consolation.

The thought of Clare Kavanagh was with him night and day. In spite of
all his searching she remained hidden. He did not confide his grief to
any one. It brought pallor to his face and listlessness in the daily
duties that bore upon him. Governor Waymouth took note at last. And when
the young man asked for permission to go home to the north country for a
time he reluctantly sent him away.

On the eve of his departure, which had been announced by a press that
now followed his movements with the attention accorded to a man of
importance in State affairs, he obeyed a summons from Madeleine Presson.
She put a letter into his hands. It was addressed to Clare Kavanagh.

"You will find her, Harlan," she said, comfortingly. "Love will search
her out. And when you find her, give her this letter. There are words
from woman to woman that woman understands."

Harlan found his grandfather sitting on the broad porch of "Th