remaine's warm speech; and she put her hand in his for a
moment, which was to him ample repayment.

Harley stood by, and was silent because he did not know what to say. To
state that Mr. Grayson had allowed himself to be beaten for a purpose
would have an incredible look in print--it would seem the poorest of
excuses; nor did he wish to make use of it in the presence of Churchill,
who would certainly jeer at it and present it in his despatches as a
ridiculous plea. He had begun to have a certain sensitiveness in regard
to the candidate, and he did not wish to be forced into a quarrel with
Churchill.

But Sylvia caught a slight smile, a smile of irony, in the eyes of
Harley, and the tears in her own dried up at once. She felt
instinctively, with all the quickness of a woman's intuition, that
Harley knew something about the speech which she did not know, but she
meant to know it, and she watched for an opportunity.

They were turning out the lights in the hall and the people began to go
away, the correspondents closing up the rear. Sylvia fell back with
Harley, and touched his arm lightly.

"There is something that you are not telling me," she said.

"I am willing to tell it to you, because you will believe it."

Tremaine, with ever-ready gallantry, was about to join them, but Sylvia
said:

"I thank you, Mr. Tremaine, but Mr. Harley has promised to see me to the
hotel."

Her tone was light, but so decisive that Tremaine turned back at once,
and Hobart, who was ahead, hid a smile.

"Now, I want to know what it is," she said, eagerly, to Harley. "That
was a good speaker, an able man, but I don't believe that he or anybody
else could beat Uncle James. How did it happen?"

Harley did not answer her at once, because it seemed to him just then
that the action of Jimmy Grayson was an illustration, and the idea was
hot in his mind.

"Perhaps there is nothing to tell, after all," she said, and her face
fell.

"There is something to tell; I hesitated because I was looking for the
best way to tell it. Mr. Grayson to-night made a sacrifice of himself,
purposely and willingly."

"A sacrifice of himself! How could he have done such a thing?"

"For the best reason that makes a man do such a thing. For love."

She stared at him a moment, and then broke into a puzzled but ironic
laugh.

"You are certainly dreaming a romance. Uncle James and Aunt Anna have
been happily married for years, and there is nothing now that c