and the severe criticisms lately made upon him by the local press,
rendered the interest even greater than it would otherwise have been.
Moreover, the lecture was free. Harrington was a poor man, as fortunes go
in Boston, but it was his chiefest principle that a man had no right to be
paid for speaking the truth, even though it might sometimes be just that
people should pay something for hearing it. Accordingly the lecture was
free, and at the appointed hour the house was full to overflowing.

In the front row of the first gallery sat old Miss Schenectady, and by her
side was Josephine Thorn. A little colony of "Beacon Street" had collected
there, and Pocock Vancouver was not far off. It is not often that Beacon
Street goes to such lectures, but John was one of themselves, and had too
many friends and enemies among them not to be certain of a large
attendance.

Miss Schenectady was there, partly because she believed in John
Harrington, and partly because Joe insisted upon going; and, generally
speaking, what Joe insisted upon was done. The old lady did not understand
why her niece was so very anxious to be present, but as the proposition
fell in with her own desires, she made no objection. The fact was that
Joe's interest in John had very greatly increased of late, and her
curiosity to hear the man she met so often speak to a great audience was
excited to its highest pitch. She fancied, too, from many things she had
heard said, that a large proportion of his audience would be hostile to
him, and that she would see him roused to his greatest strength and
eloquence. She did not consider her impulse in the least, for though she
felt a stronger interest in Harrington than she had ever before felt in
any individual, it had not struck her that she was beginning to care
overmuch for the sight of his face and the sound of his voice. She could
not have believed she was beginning to love him; and if any secret voice