dn't do it early
enough. They picked Mr. Giles Henderson for two reasons: because he lives
in Kingston, which is anti-railroad and supported the Gaylord bill, and,
because he never in his life committed any positive action, good or
bad--and he never will. And they made another mistake--the Honourable
Adam B. Hunt wouldn't back out." (Laughter and cheers.)

CHAPTER XXII

IN WHICH EUPHRASIA TAKES A HAND

Austen had not forgotten his promise to Euphrasia, and he had gone to
Hanover Street many times since his sojourn at Mr. Jabe Jenney's. Usually
these visits had taken place in the middle of the day, when Euphrasia,
with gentle but determined insistence, had made him sit down before some
morsel which she had prepared against his coming, and which he had not
the heart to refuse. In answer to his inquiries about Hilary, she would
toss her head and reply, disdainfully, that he was as comfortable as he
should be. For Euphrasia had her own strict ideas of justice, and to her
mind Hilary's suffering was deserved. That suffering was all the more
terrible because it was silent, but Euphrasia was a stern woman. To know
that he missed Austen, to feel that Hilary was being justly punished for
his treatment of her idol, for his callous neglect and lack of
realization of the blessings of his life--these were Euphrasia's grim
compensations.

At times, even, she had experienced a strange rejoicing that she had
promised Austen to remain with his father, for thus it had been given her
to be the daily witness of a retribution for which she had longed during
many years. Nor did she strive to hide her feelings. Their intercourse,
never voluminous, had shrunk to the barest necessities for the use of
speech; but Hilary, ever since the night of his son's departure, had read
in the face of his housekeeper a knowledge of his suffering, an
exultation a thousand times more maddening than the little reproaches of
language would have been. He avoided her more than ever, and must many
times have regretted bitterly the fact that he had betrayed himself to
her. As for Euphrasia, she had no notion of disclosing Hilary's torture
to his son. She was determined that the victory, when it came, should be
Austen's, and the surrender Hilary's.

"He manages to eat his meals, and gets along as common," she would reply.
"He only thinks of himself and that railroad."

But Austen read between the lines.

"Poor old Judge," he would answer; "it's because