d into semi-consciousness. Harvey still holds her in
his arms; he seems oblivious of the burden he has borne for more than a
mile and a half.

"I cannot go through the forms of the church over the grave of these
men," the priest declares emphatically. "It would be a sacrilege. But I
will say a prayer for their departed spirits."

On the tombs that range in a wide semi-circle from the entrance, the
crowd has taken points of vantage. Those who cannot force their way to
the inner circle about the grave, stand aloof, yet where they can
observe the simple, impressive ceremonies.

In a thin, querulous voice the prayer is asked. It is such an invocation
as might have been uttered over the remains of two gladiators. Blood is
upon the head of each; the prayer craves forgiveness. As the priest
concludes, the bodies are wrapped in the shawls and lowered into the
grave.

While the earth is being replaced, Trueman speaks to Ethel. She
partially revives, and seems to understand that her father's body is
being interred. When this thought has been fully grasped she realizes
that she is being supported in Harvey's arms. She makes an instinctive
effort to escape from his clasp; an instant later she looks up into his
face and asks: "You will not leave me?" She pauses. "Give my millions to
the people. I hate the thought of money. Only tell me that you will not
desert me!"

"No, my darling," comes the whisper, "I shall never be parted from you
again, so long as we live. The priest could not perform the burial
service; he can, however, make us man and wife."

As he speaks, Harvey places Ethel gently on her feet.

Standing side by side at the grave which holds victor and vanquished in
the great war for the recovery of the rights of man, Harvey Trueman and
Ethel Purdy present a strange contrast. He is the acknowledged leader of
the plain people; she is the richest woman in America. For him, every
one within reach of his voice has the deepest love and admiration; for
the hapless woman beside him, there is not a man or woman who would turn
a hand to keep her from starving.

If the men and women of Wilkes-Barre can be made to sanction the union
of Trueman and Ethel Purdy, is there any reason to doubt that the
question of social inequalities can be settled without bloodshed?
Trueman determines to venture his election, his future, his life, to win
the greatest triumph of his career, a wife whom the world despises as
the favorite of fatuou