do not consider the matter so
gravely; you have done yourself no wrong. You probably forgot that you
had it; but if you had given it to me I would have kept it--and not
forgotten it."

"Do not talk so, Mr. Buckstone. Give it to me, please, and forget the
matter."

"It would not be kind to refuse, since it troubles you so, and so I
restore it. But if you would give me part of it and keep the rest--"

"So that you might have something to remind you of me when you wished to
laugh at my foolishness?"

"Oh, by no means, no! Simply that I might remember that I had once
assisted to discomfort you, and be reminded to do so no more."

Laura looked up, and scanned his face a moment. She was about to break
the twig, but she hesitated and said:

"If I were sure that you--" She threw the spray away, and continued:
"This is silly! We will change the subject. No, do not insist--I must
have my way in this."

Then Mr. Buckstone drew off his forces and proceeded to make a wily
advance upon the fortress under cover of carefully--contrived artifices
and stratagems of war. But he contended with an alert and suspicious
enemy; and so at the end of two hours it was manifest to him that he had
made but little progress. Still, he had made some; he was sure of that.

Laura sat alone and communed with herself;

"He is fairly hooked, poor thing. I can play him at my leisure and land
him when I choose. He was all ready to be caught, days and days ago
--I saw that, very well. He will vote for our bill--no fear about that;
and moreover he will work for it, too, before I am done with him. If he
had a woman's eyes he would have noticed that the spray of box had grown
three inches since he first gave it to me, but a man never sees anything
and never suspects. If I had shown him a whole bush he would have
thought it was the same. Well, it is a good night's work: the committee
is safe. But this is a desperate game I am playing in these days
--a wearing, sordid, heartless game. If I lose, I lose everything--even
myself. And if I win the game, will it be worth its cost after all?
I do not know. Sometimes I doubt. Sometimes I half wish I had not
begun. But no matter; I have begun, and I will never turn back; never
while I live."

Mr. Buckstone indulged in a reverie as he walked homeward:

"She is shrewd and deep, and plays her cards with considerable
discretion--but she will lose, for all that. There is no hurry; I shall
c