e who can possibly stand for progress,
movement, advance, are those who stand firm for Imperial Federation."

"And then?" said Constance, leaning forward, her face illumined by her
shining eyes. Crondall drew a long breath.

"And then--then Britain will have something to say to the Kaiser."

As we rose from the table, George Stairs laid his hand on Reynolds's
shoulder.

"Deep waters these, my friend," said he, "for simple parsons from the
backwoods. But our part is plain, and close at hand. Our work is to make
the writing on the wall flame till all can read and feel: Duty first,
last, and all the time. 'The conclusion of the whole matter.'"

"Yes, yes; that's so," said Reynolds, thoughtfully. And then he added,
as it were an afterthought: "But was that remark about vile people no
more being called liberal really scriptural, I wonder--I wonder!"

"Without a doubt," said Crondall, with a broad grin. "You look up Isaiah
XXXII. 5. You will find it there, written maybe three thousand years
ago, fitting to-day's situation like a glove."

On the way out to South Kensington, where I accompanied the ladies, I
asked Constance what she thought of my old chum, George Stairs.

"Why, Dick," she said, "he makes me feel that an English village can
still produce the finest type of man that walks the earth. But, as
things have been, in our time, I'm glad this particular man didn't
remain in his native village--aren't you?"

"Yes," I agreed, with a half-sad note I could not keep out of my voice.
"I suppose Colonial life has taught him a lot."

"Oh, he is magnificent!"

"And look at John Crondall!"

"Ah, John is a wonderful man; Empire-taught, is John."

"And I suppose the man who has never lived the outside life in the big,
open places can never----"

And then I think she saw what had brought the twinge of sadness to me;
for she touched my arm, her bright eyes gleamed upon me, and--

"You're a terribly impatient man, Dick," she said, with a smile. "It
seems to me you've trekked a mighty long way from _The Mass_ office
in--how many weeks is it?"

IX

THE CITIZENS

Serene will be our days, and bright
And happy will our nature be
When love is an unerring light,
And joy its own security.
And they a blissful course may hold
Ev'n now, who, not unwisely bold,
Live in the spirit of this creed,
Yet find that other strength, according to their need.