have her
back," he said. "She has the grip of a lever which can lift the eternal
hills with the right pressure. Leave her alone--leave her alone. This is
a democratic country, and she'll prove democracy a success before she's
done."

The world knew that John Appleton had offered her marriage, and he had
never hidden the fact. What they did not know was that she had told him
what she meant to do before she did it. He had spoken to her plainly,
bluntly, then with a voice that was blurred and a little broken,
urging her against the course towards which she was set; but it had not
availed; and, realising that he had come upon a powerful will underneath
the sunny and so human surface, he had ceased to protest, to bear down
upon her mind with his own iron force. When he realised that all his
reasoning was wasted, that all worldly argument was vain, he made one
last attempt, a forlorn hope, as though to put upon record what he
believed to be the truth.

"There is no position you cannot occupy," he said. "You have the perfect
gift in private life, and you have a public gift. You have a genius for
ruling. Say, my dear, don't wreck it all. I know you are not for me, but
there are better men in the country than I am. Hartzman will be a great
man one day--he wants you. Young Tilden wants you; he has millions, and
he will never disgrace them or you, the power which they can command,
and the power which you have. And there are others. Your people have
told you they will turn you off; the world will say things--will
rend you. There is nothing so popular for the moment as the fall of a
favourite. But that's nothing--it's nothing at all compared with the
danger to yourself. I didn't sleep last night thinking of it. Yet I'm
glad you wrote me; it gave me time to think, and I can tell you the
truth as I see it. Haven't you thought that he will drag you down,
down, down, wear out your soul, break and sicken your life, destroy your
beauty--you are beautiful, my dear, beyond what the world sees, even.
Give it up--ah, give it up, and don't break our hearts! There are too
many people loving you for you to sacrifice them--and yourself, too....
You've had such a good time!"

"It's been like a dream," she interrupted, in a faraway voice, "like a
dream, these two years."

"And it's been such a good dream," he urged; "and you will only go to a
bad one, from which you will never wake. The thing has fastened on him;
he will never give it up. And