about giving up your
career; but I know you will be up and away again only too soon. I am
trying to school myself to expect that."

"Lloyd, I tell you that I am out of it. I don't believe the Pole ever
can be reached, and I don't much care whether it is reached or not."

Suddenly Lloyd turned to him, the unwonted light flashing in her eyes.
"_I_ do, though," she cried vehemently. "It can be done, and
we--America--ought to do it."

Bennett stared at her, startled by her outburst.

"This English expedition," Lloyd continued, the colour flushing in her
cheeks, "this Duane-Parsons expedition, they will have the start of
everybody next year. Nearly every attempt that is made now establishes a
new record for a high latitude. One nation after another is creeping
nearer and nearer almost every year, and each expedition is profiting by
the experiences and observations made by the one that preceded it. Some
day, and not very long now, some nation is going to succeed and plant
its flag there at last. Why should it not be us? Why shouldn't _our_
flag be first at the Pole? We who have had so many heroes, such great
sailors, such splendid leaders, such explorers--our Stanleys, our
Farraguts, our Decaturs, our De Longs, our Lockwoods--how we would stand
ashamed before the world if some other nation should succeed where we
have all but succeeded--Norway, or France, or Russia, or
England--profiting by our experiences, following where we have made the
way!"

"That is very fine," admitted Bennett. "It would be a great honour, the
greatest perhaps; and once--I--well, I had my ambitions, too. But it's
all different now. Something in me died when--Dick--when--I--oh, let
Duane try. Let him do his best. I know it can't be done, and if he
should win, I would be the first to wire congratulations. Lloyd, I don't
care. I've lost interest. I suppose it is my punishment. I'm out of the
race. I'm a back number. I'm down."

Lloyd shook her head.

"I don't--I can't believe you."

"Do you want to see me go," demanded Bennett, "after this last
experience? Do you urge me to it?"

Lloyd turned her head away, leaning it against one of the veranda
pillars. A sudden dimness swam in her eyes, the choking ache she knew so
well came to her throat. Ah, life was hard for her. The very greatness
of her nature drove from her the happiness so constantly attained by
little minds, by commonplace souls. When was it to end, this continual
sacrifice of inclina