enly from under lowered eyelids--the question was
merely intended to lead to something else.

"That is not the point. Harley is the man she loves, and Harley is the
man she should marry."

"Should she not decide this question for herself?"

The candidate studied the face of his wife. Her words, if taken simply
as words, would seem metallic and cold, but there was an expression that
gave them a wholly different meaning to him.

"Under ordinary circumstances, yes," he said, "but the circumstances in
which Sylvia finds herself are not ordinary, and I am not sure how far
we are responsible for them."

"I undertook to act once, and I was sorry that I did so."

The candidate did not speak again for several moments, but Mrs. Grayson
read his expressive face.

"You have thought of something else," she said, "that is or seems to be
connected with this affair of Sylvia's."

"I have, and I am afraid it is that which has been holding me back."

The eyes of the two met, and, although they said no more upon that
point, they understood each other perfectly.

"Anna," said the candidate, with decision, "you must write to Mr.
Plummer. I do not shift this burden from myself to you because of any
desire to escape it, but because I know you will write the letter so
much better than I can."

Her eyes met his again, and hers shone with admiration--he was not less
brave than she had thought him.

"I do not know what will come of it," he said; "perhaps nothing, but in
any event we ought to write it."

"I will write," she said, firmly.

The candidate said nothing more but he bent down and kissed his wife on
the forehead.

When Jimmy Grayson returned from the drawing-room, they noticed that the
frown was gone from his face, and at once there was a new atmosphere in
the car. The sleepy politicians awoke and made new or old jokes; the
correspondents ceased writing, and asked Mr. Grayson what he intended to
put in his next speech. Obviously the current of life began to run full
and free again, and the incomparable scenery gliding by their
car-windows no longer passed without comment. But Mrs. Grayson, in the
drawing-room, taking much thought and care, was writing this letter,
which she addressed to Mr. Plummer, in Boise, where she heard that he
was going from Salt Lake City:

"DEAR MR. PLUMMER,--I want to tell you how we are getting on,
because I know how deeply you are interested in the campaign, and
all of us