friends the stars, whose names she had learned before she knew her
letters, did not leave her comfortless. They had unconsciously
contributed to her gift for seeing life in long vistas. "When you are
looking at the stars," Professor Kelton used to say, "you are not
thinking of yourself." It was not of herself that Sylvia was thinking.

She prolonged her walk, gathering strength as the exercise warmed her
blood, planning what she meant to do, even repeating to herself phrases
she meant to use. So it happened that Mrs. Owen's messenger had found
Dan at the State House and delivered the note, and that Dan, called from
a prolonged conference with Ramsay, saw Sylvia's unmistakable figure as
she reached the top of the stairway, watched her making inquiries of a
lounger, saw men staring at her. It crossed his mind that she was
seeking him, and he started toward her; but she had stopped again to
question one of the idlers in the hall. He saw her knock at a door and
knew it was Bassett's room--a room that for years had been set apart for
the private councils of the senator from Fraser. As Sylvia knocked,
several men came out, as though the interruption had terminated an
interview. The unveiled face of the tall, dark girl called for a second
glance; it was an odd place for a pretty young woman to be seeking
Morton Bassett. They looked at each other and grinned.

A single lamp on a table in the middle of the high-ceilinged room shed a
narrow circle of light that deepened the shadows of the walls. Bassett,
standing by a window, was aware of a lighter step than was usual in this
plotting chamber. He advanced toward the table with his hands in his
pockets, waited till Sylvia was disclosed by the lamp, stopped abruptly,
stared at her with eyes that seemed not to see her. Then he placed a
chair for her, muttering:--

"I thought you would come."

It seemed to her that a sigh broke from him, hidden by the scraping of
the chair across the bare floor. He crossed and recrossed the floor
several times, as though now that she had come he had dismissed her
from his thoughts. Then as he passed near her with slow, heavy step she
spoke.

"I came to talk to you, Mr. Bassett. Please turn on the other lights."

"Pardon me," he said; and she heard his fingers fumbling for the switch
by the door. In a moment the room was flooded from the chandelier
overhead, and he returned, and sat down by the table without looking at
her.

"I shouldn't hav