aid Zora. "I expected a great thing of you--a
sacrifice. I do not blame you because you could not do it; and yet--yet,
after this,--don't you see?--I cannot stay here."

Mrs. Vanderpool arose and walked over to her. She stood above her, in
her silken morning-gown, her brown and gray sprinkled hair rising above
the pale, strong-lined face.

"Zora," she faltered, "will you leave me?"

Zora answered, "Yes." It was a soft "yes," a "yes" full of pity and
regret, but a "yes" that Mrs. Vanderpool knew in her soul to be final.

She sat down again on the lounge and her fingers crept along the
cushions.

"Ambassadorships come--high," she said with a catch in her voice. Then
after a pause: "When will you go, Zora?"

"When you leave for the summer."

Mrs. Vanderpool looked out upon the beautiful city. She was a little
surprised at herself. She had found herself willing to sacrifice almost
anything for Zora. No living soul had ever raised in her so deep an
affection, and yet she knew now that, although the cost was great, she
was willing to sacrifice Zora for Paris. After all, it was not too
late; a rapid ride even now might secure high office for Alwyn and make
Cresswell ambassador. It would be difficult but possible. But she had
not the slightest inclination to attempt it, and she said aloud, half
mockingly:

"You are right, Zora. I promised--and--I lied. Liars have no place in
heaven and heaven is doubtless a beautiful place--but oh, Zora! you
haven't seen Paris!"

Two months later they parted simply, knowing well it was forever. Mrs.
Vanderpool wrote a check.

"Use this in your work," she said. "Miss Smith asked for it long ago. It
is--my campaign contribution."

Zora smiled and thanked her. As she put the sealed envelope in her trunk
her hand came in contact with a long untouched package. Zora took it out
silently and opened it and the beauty of it lightened the room.

"It is the Silver Fleece," said Zora, and Mrs. Vanderpool kissed her and
went.

Zora walked alone to the vaulted station. She did not try to buy a
Pullman ticket, although the journey was thirty-six hours. She knew it
would be difficult if not impossible and she preferred to share the lot
of her people. Once on the foremost car, she leaned back and looked. The
car seemed clean and comfortable but strangely short. Then she realized
that half of it was cut off for the white smokers and as the door swung
whiffs of the smoke came in. But she was cont