subject of this flirtation of Jane Hastings. The spectacle of a
useless and insincere creature like that trifling with her deity,
and being permitted to trifle, was more than she could endure.
But Victor, dropping listlessly to his chair and reaching for his
pencil, was somehow a check upon her impetuousness. She paused
long enough to think the sobering second thought. To speak would
be both an impertinence and a folly. She owed it to the cause
and to her friend Victor to speak; but to speak at the wrong time
and in the wrong way would be worse than silence.

Said he: ``I was finishing this when she came. I'll be done in
a minute. Please read what I've written and tell me what you
think.''

Selma took up the loose sheets of manuscript and stood reading
his inaugural of the new New Day. As she read she forgot the
petty matter that had so agitated her a moment before. This
salutatory--this address to the working class--this plan of a
campaign to take Remsen City out of the hands of its exploiters
and despoilers and make it a city fit for civilized residence and
worthy of its population of intelligent, progressive
workingmen--this leading editorial for the first number was
Victor Dorn at his greatest and best. The man of action with all
the enthusiasm of a dreamer. The shrewd, practical politician
with the outlook of a statesman. How honest and impassioned he
was; yet how free from folly and cant. Several times as she read
Selma lifted her eyes to look at him in generous, worshipful
admiration. She would not have dared let him see; she would not
have dared speak the phrases of adoration of his genius that
crowded to her lips. How he would have laughed at her--he who