again."

"Don't let us talk of it any more, dear. I wouldn't have told you only I
was afraid that he would try to separate us. Now I know you are on my
side I wouldn't have you judge him harshly."

"On your side," she repeated, with a certain exaltation of manner. "On
your side always in spite of everything. I feel for you more intensely
than for myself." In a lower voice and with hesitating speech she added:
"Did he--did he tell you that he resigned on your account?"

He nodded.

"And you're not angry?"

"No." He smiled slightly. "I understand men better now than I did
yesterday. That's all."

"Oh, but you ought to be mad. I am. How can you--"

"Let us talk, dear, of what concerns us more. Have you heard anything?
From what your father said I half fear that the meeting to-morrow may go
against me. Has no one called?"

"Professor Krazinski. I saw his card on the table when I came in. You
think it's a bad sign that he's the only one?"

"I'm afraid so. It may be merely anxiety, but I'm growing suspicious of
every one now. I catch myself attributing low motives to men without
reason. That electioneering has infected me. I hate myself for it, but I