ined Corinna. "He is made of the mettle that
breaks but does not bend."

"Like my father; like all those who have petrified in the shape of a
convention. And yet the new stuff--the ideas that haven't turned to
stone--are full of froth--they splash over. Take Vetch and this strike,
for instance. I myself believe that he wants to do the right thing, to
protect the public at any cost; but he has gone too far; he has splashed
over the dividing line between principle and expediency. Will he be able
to stand firm at the last?"

"Father says there is to be a meeting Thursday night."

"Yes, and he'll be obliged to come to some decision then, or at least to
drop a hint as to the line he intends to pursue. I am afraid there will
be trouble either way."

"The Governor shows the strain," said Corinna. "I saw him yesterday."

"How can he help it? He has got himself into a tight place. Oh, there
are times when temporizing is more dangerous than action! It's hard to
see how he'll get out of it unless he cuts a way, and if he does that,
he'll probably lose the strongest support he has ever had."

Stephen's face was transfigured now. It had lost the look of dryness, of
apathy; and she watched the glow of health shine again in his eyes as it
used to shine when he was at college. So it was not emotion that was to
restore him! It was the ancient masculine delusion, as invulnerable as
truth, that the impersonal interests are the significant ones. Well, she
was not quarrelling with delusions as long as they were beneficent! And
since it was impossible for her fervent soul to care greatly for general
principles, or to dwell long among impersonal forms of thought, she
found herself regarding this public crisis, less as a warfare of
political theories, than as a possible cure for Stephen's condition. For
the rest, except for their results, beneficial or otherwise, to the
individual citizen, problems of government interested her not at all.
The whole trouble with life seemed to her to rise, not from mistaken
theory, but from the lack of consideration with which human beings
treated one another. Happiness, after all, depended so little upon
opinions and so much upon manners.

"Throw yourself into this work, Stephen," she urged. "It is a splendid
opportunity."

He smiled at her in the old boyish way. "An opportunity for what?"

"For--" It was on the tip of her tongue to say "for health"; but she
checked herself, remembering the incurable