think that interest will increase. Thee has climbed quickly,
but fast climbing is not always safe climbing."

His mood changed. His voice quickened, his face lowered. "You think I
will fail? You wish me to fail?"

"In so far as thee acts uprightly, I wish thee well. But if, out of
office, thee disregards justice and conscience and the rights of others,
can thee be just and faithful in office? Subtlety will not always avail.
The strong man takes the straight course. Subtlety is not intellect."

He flushed. She had gone to the weakest point in his defences. His
vanity was being hurt. She had an advantage now.

"You are wrong," he protested. "You do not understand public life, here
in a silly Quaker village."

"Does thee think that all that happens in 'public life' is of
consequence? That is not sensible. Thee is in the midst of a thousand
immaterial things, though they have importance for the moment. But the
chief things that matter to all, does thee not know that a 'silly Quaker
village' may realise them to the full--more fully because we see them
apart from the thousand little things that do not matter? I remember a
thing in political life that mattered. It was at Heddington after the
massacre at Damascus. Does thee think that we did not know thee spoke
without principle then, and only to draw notice?"

"You would make me into a demagogue," he said irritably.

"Thee is a demagogue," she answered candidly.

"Why did you never say all this to me long ago? Years have passed since
then, and since then you and I have--have been friends. You have--"

He paused, for she made a protesting motion, and a fire sprang into her
eyes. Her voice got colder. "Thee made me believe--ah, how many times
did we speak together? Six times it was, not more. Thee made me believe
that what I thought or said helped thee to see things better. Thee
said I saw things truly like a child, with the wisdom of a woman. Thee
remembers that?"

"It was so," he put in hastily.

"No, not for a moment so, though I was blinded to think for an instant
that it was. Thee subtly took the one way which could have made me
listen to thee. Thee wanted help, thee said; and if a word of mine could
help thee now and then, should I withhold it, so long as I thought thee
honest?"

"Do you think I was not honest in wanting your friendship?"

"Nay, it was not friendship thee wanted, for friendship means a giving
and a getting. Thee was bent on getting what was,