.

"Stephen," she began, "do you mean to say--?" There she stopped, utterly
unable to speak. He ceased his pacing and sat down beside her and took
her hand.

"Yes, my dear, I mean to say I've submitted to these things. God knows
whether I've been right or wrong, but I have. I've often thought I'd be
happier if I resigned my office as president of my road and became a
clerk in a store. I don't attempt to excuse myself, Carry, but my sin has
been in holding on to my post. As long as I remain president I have to
cope with things as I find them."

Mr. Merrill spoke thickly, for the sight of his wife's tears wrung his
heart.

"Stephen," she said, "when we were first married and you were a district
superintendent, you used to tell me everything."

Stephen Merrill was a man, and a good man, as men go. How was he to tell
her the degrees by which he had been led into his present situation? How
was he to explain that these degrees had been so gradual that his
conscience had had but a passing wrench here and there? Politics being
what they were, progress and protection had to be obtained in accordance
with them, and there was a duty to the holders of bonds and stocks.

His wife had a question on her lips, a question for which she had to
summon all her courage. She chose that form for it which would hurt him
least.

"Mr. Worthington is going to try to change these things?"

Mr. Merrill roused himself at the words, and his eyes flashed. He became
a different man.

"Change them!" he cried bitterly, "change them for the worse, if he can.
He will try to wrest the power from Jethro Bass. I don't defend him. I
don't defend myself. But I like Jethro Bass. I won't deny it. He's human,
and I like him, and whatever they say about him I know that he's been a
true friend to me. And I tell you as I hope for happiness here and
hereafter, that if Worthington succeeds in what he is trying to do, if
the railroads win in this fight, there will be no mercy for the people of
that state. I'm a railroad man myself, though I have no interest in this
affair. My turn may come later. Will come later, I suppose. Isaac D.
Worthington has a very little heart or soul or mercy himself; but the
corporation which he means to set up will have none at all. It will grind
the people and debase them and clog their progress a hundred times more
than Jethro Bass has done. Mark my words, Carry. I'm running ahead of the
times a little, but I can see it all as cl