already been interrupted, he thought, by far too much unimportant talk.
Ruth looked at him expectantly when he started to speak, but he was
looking at Philip Alston and spoke to him.

"You have, I suppose, sir, mentioned to my uncle what you so kindly
suggested to me, in the event that the attorney-general should resign on
going to Tippecanoe."

The deepest feeling that Ruth had ever heard in his voice thrilled it
now. She involuntarily bent forward. Her eager lips were apart, her
radiant eyes were upon him. Was he going with the attorney-general to
Tippecanoe? She was afraid, glad, frightened, proud, all in a breath.
She had forgotten the beautiful gifts that lay before her. The mere
mention, the merest thought of the noble and the great, stirred her
heart like the throb of mighty drums.

"No, but I will speak to him about it now," replied Philip Alston.
"Judge, Judge Knox!" raising his voice.

The judge, aroused, sat up, looking round. But William Pressley spoke
again before Philip Alston could explain.

"If the attorney-general really intends to go, he must resign. There
will, of course, be many applicants for the place, and we can hardly be
too prompt in applying for it, if I am to succeed him."

Ruth sank back in her chair. The fabric which she had held unconsciously
now dropped unheeded from her hand. She could not have told why she felt
such a shock of revulsion and disappointment. She had known something
like it before, when this man who was to be her husband had shown some