Galton smiled.

"Yes," she said. The monosyllable was expressive.

The older woman, with forty years of executive work behind her, divided
all workers roughly into two classes: The amiable idealists who created
no antagonism and accomplished nothing, and the effective workers who
accomplished marvels and stirred up endless quarrels. She--except in her
very weakest moments--preferred the latter, though they disrupted her
office force and gave her nervous indigestion. She recognized Lydia as
belonging to this class.

And presently, being a wise and experienced woman, she recognized
another fact: That she was probably in the presence of her successor. A
pang shot through her. She was seventy and keener than ever about the
work to which she had given all her life. If she kept this girl out she
would hold office longer than if she let her in. If she let her in it
would vivify the whole organization. She might become the ideal leader;
at least she could be made so--youth, beauty, money, experience of
prison conditions and the romance of her story to capture public
imagination.

Lydia, with her acute sense of her own unworthiness, was dimly aware of
some hesitation, and supposed that she was being weighed in the balance.
She had no suspicion that a struggle, somewhat like her own struggle,
was going on in the honest, philanthropic breast before her. A few
minutes afterwards Mrs. Galton offered her the treasurership. Lydia was
overcome by the honor.

"But I thought you had a treasurer, already," she murmured. "If I could
be her assistant----"

"Oh, no doubt she will be glad to resign," said the president with a
calmness that suggested that glad or not the resignation would be
forthcoming.

The two women went out to lunch together. More and more, as they talked,
Lydia saw that this was just what she wanted. This would be her
salvation. After they were back in the office again she spoke of Evans.
What could she do? What must be done?

"Let me see," said Mrs. Galton. "You were the complaining witness
against her, I suppose. Well, you must see the judge and the district
attorney who tried the case."

Lydia gave a funny little sound, half exclamation, half moan.

"O'Bannon!" she said.

No, Mrs. Galton thought that wasn't the name of the district attorney of
Princess County. She rang her bell and told her secretary to look it up,
while she went on calmly discussing the details of the procedure.
Presently the secretary