can't help it; I loathe the self-seeking and the vileness. I'd rather
not know men at all than see them as they've shown themselves lately. I
want to get away and rinse my mouth out and forget all about it--away
somewhere with you, my sweet love."

"But you mustn't let them condemn you without an effort." While speaking
she put her hand on his shoulder and moved close to him. "It might
injure us later. And you know you can persuade them if you like. No one
can listen to you without being won over. And I want you to keep your
post; you love teaching and you're the best teacher in the world, ah--"

He put his arms round her, and she bowed her head on his neck, that he
might not see the gathering tears.

"You're right, dear. I spoke hastily. I'll do my best. It won't be as
bad as we think. My colleagues are men of some education and position.
They're not like the crowd of ignorant voters and greedy place-hunters;
they'll listen to reason, and"--half bitterly--"they've no motive to do
me wrong. Besides, Krazinski has called, and I scarcely know him;
perhaps the others didn't think of coming. It was kind of him, wasn't
it? I'm very grateful to him. He must be a good fellow."

"What has he done so wonderful? Oh, my!"--and she turned her face up to
his with half-laughing deprecation--"I'm afraid I'm deteriorating too. I
can't hear you praise any one now without feeling horribly jealous. Yes,
he must be good. But don't be too grateful to him, or--I must be going
now, and, oh! what a long time it'll be until to-morrow! I shall have
grown old before--to-morrow."

"Sweetheart! You'll come here and wait for me in the afternoon, won't