burst forth, almost in tears. "The snake--what is
he?"

"Nearly as bad as you, I'll admit; but he has four thousand a year and
sense enough to keep it. In truth, I need it; for, thanks to your
political activity, my own position is gone."

"But he's a--a damned rascal!" Wounded self-conceit was now getting the
upper hand.

She laughed.

"I think he is. But he's such an exceptional rascal; he appeals to me.
You know, Tom, we're all more or less rascally--except one."

"Except who?" he asked quickly.

"Bles Alwyn."

"The fool!"

"Yes," she slowly agreed. "Bles Alwyn, the Fool--and the Man. But by
grace of the Negro Problem, I cannot afford to marry a man--Hark! Some
one is on the steps. I'm sure it's Bles. You'd better go now. Don't
attempt to fight with him; he's very strong. Good-night."

Alwyn entered. He didn't notice Teerswell as he passed out. He went
straight to Miss Wynn holding a crumpled note, and his voice faltered a
little.

"Do you mean it?"

"Yes, Bles."

"Why?"

"Because I am selfish and--small."

"No, you are not. You want to be; but give it up, Carrie; it isn't worth
the cost. Come, let's be honest and poor--and free."

She regarded him a moment, searchingly, then a look half quizzical, half
sorrowful came into her eyes. She put both her hands on his shoulders
and said as she kissed his lips:

"Bles, almost thou persuadest me--to be a fool. Now go."

_Thirty_

THE RETURN OF ZORA

"I never realized before just what a lie meant," said Zora.

The paper in Mrs. Vanderpool's hands fell quickly to her lap, and she
gazed across the toilet-table.

As she gazed that odd mirage of other days haunted her again. She did
not seem to see her maid, nor the white and satin morning-room. She saw,
with some long inner sight, a vast hall with mighty pillars; a smooth,
marbled floor and a great throng whose silent eyes looked curiously upon
her. Strange carven beasts gazed on from a setting of rich, barbaric
splendor and she herself--the Liar--lay in rags before the gold and
ivory of that lofty throne whereon sat Zora.

The foolish phantasy passed with the second of time that brought it, and
Mrs. Vanderpool's eyes dropped again to her paper, to those lines,--

"The President has sent the following nominations to the Senate ... To
be ambassador to France, John Vanderpool, Esq."

The first feeling of triumph thrilled faintly again until the low voice
of Zora startled her. It was so low