meant it! I never intended it! It was done wholly
without my knowledge! I am sorry! I am sorry!"

"You need not be sorry. It is only one of the consequences of
following one's faith. Anyhow, I'm just a little less inconsistent
than Mr. Benton, who had always been opposed to slavery, although
he still owns slaves. The same is true of Mr. Clay. They both
have been prominent politically. Well, set them free of their
slaves, and they and I would be about even, wouldn't we? It comes
to being pretty much on foot, I must confess."

"I can understand that," said she. "For that matter, we are both
ruined; and for the same reason."

"What do you mean? And, tell me, once more, who are you? You
certainly have stirred things up!"

"As to the latter, it makes little difference," said she. "I will
confess to being a revolutionist and a visionary reformer; and an
absolute failure. I will confess that I have undertaken things
which I thought were within my power, but which were entirely
beyond me. Well, it has ruined me also in a material way."

"How, do you mean?"

"This colonization work was carried on by my own funds. It is not long
ago that I got a letter, saying that my funds were at an end. I had
some small estates in the old country. They are gone,--confiscated.
My last rents were not collected."

She, in turn, smiled, spreading out her hands. "You see me here in
St. Genevieve, perhaps on my way to St. Louis. Tell me, is there
demand for persons of foreign experience, who understand a little
French, a little English, perhaps a little music? Or could there
perhaps be a place for an interpreter in Hungarian, French or
English?"

[Illustration: She turned, spreading out her hands.]

It was his turn to show consternation. "Is it indeed true?" he
said. "Now it is time for me to say I am sorry. I do not
understand all about it. Of course I could see all along that an
immense amount of money was being paid into this colonization
folly. And it was your money, and you are ruined,--for the same
hopeless cause! I am sorry, sorry! It's a shame, a shame!"

"I am not sorry," said she. "I am glad! It is victory!"

"I will not say that!" he burst out. "I will not admit it, not
confess it. It is all right for me, because I'm a man. I can
stand it. But you--you ought to have ease, luxury, all your life.
Now look what you have done!"

There came a sudden knock at the door, and without much pause.
He