and calm, it came as though
journeying from great distances and weary with travel.

"I used to think a lie a little thing, a convenience; but now I see. It
is a great No and it kills things. You remember that day when Mr.
Easterly called?"

"Yes," replied Mrs. Vanderpool, faintly.

"I heard all he said. I could not help it; my transom was open. And
then, too, after he mentioned--Mr. Alwyn's name, I wanted to hear. I
knew that his appointment would cost you the embassy--unless Bles was
tempted and should fall. So I came to you to say--to say you mustn't pay
the price."

"And I lied," said Mrs. Vanderpool. "I told you that he should be
appointed and remain a man. I meant to make him see that he could yield
without great cost. But I let you think I was giving up the embassy when
I never intended to."

She spoke coldly, yet Zora knew. She reached out and took the white,
still hands in hers, and over the lady's face again flitted that
stricken look of age.

"I do not blame you," said Zora gently. "I blame the world."

"I am the world," Mrs. Vanderpool uttered harshly, then suddenly
laughed. But Zora went on:

"It bewildered me when I first read the news early this morning; the
world--everything--seemed wrong. You see, my plan was all so splendid.
Just as I turned away from him, back to my people, I was to help him to
the highest. I was so afraid he would miss it and think that Right
didn't win in Life, that I wrote him--"

"You wrote him? So did I."

Zora glanced at her quickly.

"Yes," said Mrs. Vanderpool. "I thought I knew him. He seemed an
ordinary, rather priggish, opinionated country boy, and I wrote and
said--Oh, I said that the world is the world; take it as it is. You
wrote differently, and he obeyed you."

"No; he did not know it was I. I was just a Voice from nowhere calling
to him. I thought I was right. I wrote each day, sometimes twice,
sending bits of verse, quotations, references, all saying the same
thing: Right always triumphs. But it doesn't, does it?"

"No. It never does save by accident."

"I do not think that is quite so," Zora pondered aloud, "and I am a
little puzzled. I do not belong in this world where Right and Wrong get
so mixed. With us yonder there is wrong, but we call it wrong--mostly.
Oh, I don't know; even there things are mixed." She looked sadly at Mrs.
Vanderpool, and the fear that had been hovering behind her mistress's
eyes became visible.

"It was so beautiful," s