e same effect upon the candidate. "I felt that I
must be her champion," said Mr. Grayson. "Why, I did not know, but I
wanted to fight for her."

Miss Anderson herself was unconscious of the impression that she
created, and she strove only to entertain her father's guests, a task in
which she achieved the full measure of success. Mr. Anderson mentioned,
casually, how he had sent her to Wellesley, and Harley saw that her
horizon was wider than that of her parents. But the pathetic, appealing
look came now and then into her beautiful eyes, and Harley was convinced
of her unhappiness. Once he saw a sudden glance, as of sympathy and
understanding, pass between her and Sylvia.

It was not long before the secret of Helen Anderson was told to him,
because it was no secret at all. The whole town was proud of her, and
everybody in it knew that she was in love with Arthur Lee, the young
lawyer whose sign hung on the main street of Egmont before an office
which was yet unvisited by clients. It was true love on both sides,
they said, with sympathy; they had been boy and girl together, and
during her long stay in the East at school she had never forgotten him.
But Mr. Anderson would have none of the briefless youth; his prosperity
had fed his pride--a lawyer without a case was not a fit match for his
daughter. "If you were famous, if it were common talk that some day you
might be governor or United States senator, I might consent, but, sir,
you have done nothing," he had said, with cruel sarcasm to Lee.

It was a bitter truth, and Lee himself, high and honorable in all his
nature, saw it. The girl, too, had old-fashioned ideas of duty to
parents, and when her father bade her think no more of Lee she humbly
bowed her head. But the town said, and the town knew, that the more she
sought to put him out of her heart, the more strongly intrenched was he
there; that while she now tried to think of him not at all, she thought
of him all the time.

The whole story was brought to Harley; it was not in his nature to pry
into the sacred mysteries of a young girl's heart, but the tale moved
him all the more deeply when he saw young Lee, a man with a high, noble
brow and clear, open eyes, through which his honest soul shone, that all
might see. But upon his face was the same faint veil of sadness that
hovered over Helen Anderson's, as if hope were lacking.

Harley met young Lee two or three times, and on each occasion purposely
prolonged the