is political power for personal warfare
upon his enemies. Thatcher loomed formidably as a candidate for the
leadership, and many predicted that Bassett's power was at last broken.
On the other hand, Bassett's old lieutenants smiled knowingly; the old
Bassett machine was still in perfect running order, they said, as
Thatcher would learn when he felt the wheels grinding him.

Bassett saw Sylvia daily, and he was wary of her at first. She had dealt
him a staggering blow that rainy evening at the door of Elizabeth
House--a blow which, from her, had an effect more poignant than she
knew. That incident was ended, however, and he felt that he had nothing
to fear from her. No one appreciates candor so thoroughly as the man who
is habitually given to subterfuge, evasion, and dissimulation. Sylvia's
consent to tutor Blackford indicated a kindly feeling toward the family.
It was hardly likely that she would report to Mrs. Bassett his
indiscretions with Rose Farrell. And his encounters with Sylvia had
moreover encouraged the belief that she viewed life broadly and
tolerantly.

There was little for a man of Bassett's tastes to do at Waupegan. Most
of the loungers at the Casino were elderly men who played bridge, which
he despised; and he cared little for fishing or boating. Tennis and golf
did not tempt him. His wife had practically ceased to be a figure in the
social life of the colony; Marian was away, and Blackford's leisure was
spent with boys of his own age. Morton Bassett was lonely.

It thus happened that he looked forward with growing interest to
Sylvia's daily visits to his house. He found that he could mark her
progress from Mrs. Owen's gate round the lake to his own cottage from
the window of a den he maintained in the attic. He remained there under
the hot shingles, conscious of her presence in his house throughout her
two hours with Blackford. Once or twice he took himself off to escape
from her; but on these occasions he was surprised to find that he was
back on the veranda when Sylvia emerged from the living-room with her
pupil. She was always cheery, and she never failed to say something
heartening of Blackford's work.

A number of trifling incidents occurred to bring them together. The cook
left abruptly, and Mrs. Bassett was reduced to despair. Bassett,
gloomily pacing his veranda, after hearing his wife's arraignment of the
world in general and domestic servants in particular, felt the clouds
lift when Sylvia