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“To think of it!” Hector moaned. “To think of its coming at such a time! To think of what it means to me!”

His mother spoke to him from behind her handkerchief: “You mustn’t do it; you can’t Hector–oh, you can’t, you can’t.”

For answer he struck himself desperately across the forehead with the palm of his hand.

“What is it,” I asked, “that your mother wants you not to do?”

“She wants me to give up Trimmer–to refuse to make the nominating speech for him to-morrow.”

“You’ve got to give him up!” cried his mother; and then went on with reiterations as passionate as they were weak and broken in utterance. “You can’t make the speech, you can’t do it, you can’t–“

“Then I’m done for!” he said. “Don’t you see what a frightful blow this pitiful, drunken folly of poor Joe’s has dealt Trimmer’s candidaoy? Don’t you see that they rely on me more than ever, now? Are you so blind you don’t see that I am the only man who can save Trimmer the nomination? If I go back on him now, he’s done for and I’m done for with him! It’s my only chance!”

“No, no,” she sobbed, “you’ll have other chances; you’ll have plenty of chances, dear; you’re young–“

“My only chance,” he went on rapidly, ignoring her, “and if I can carry it through, it will mean everything to me. The tide’s running strong against Trimmer to-night, and I am the only man in the world who can turn it the other way. If I go into the convention for him, faithful to him, and, out of the highest sense of justice, explain that, even though Lane has been my closest friend, he was in the wrong and that–“

Mary rose to her feet and went to her son and clung to him. “No, no!” she cried; “no, no!”

“I’ve got to!” he said.

“What is that you must do, Hector?” It was Miss Rainey’s voice, and came from just behind me. She was standing in the doorway that led from the hall, and her eyes were glowing with a brilliant, warm light. We all started as she spoke, and I sprang up and turned toward her.

“He’s going to get well,” she said, understanding me. “They say it is surely so!”

At that Mary ran and threw her arms about her and kissed her–and I came near it! Hector gave a sort of shout of relief and sank into a chair.

“What is that you must do, Hector?” Miss Rainey said again in her steady voice.

“Stick to Trimmer!” he explained. “Don’t you see that I must? He needs me now more than ever, and it’s my only chance.”

Miss Rainey looked at him over Mary’s shoulder. She looked at him a long while before she spoke. “You know why Mr. Lane struck that blow?”

“Oh, I suppose so,” he answered uneasily. “At least Siffles–“

“Yes,” she said. “You know. What are you going to do?”

“The right thing!” Hector rose and walked toward her. “I put right before all. I shall be loyal and I shall be just. It might have been a terribly hard thing to carry through, but, since dear old Joe will recover, I know I can do it.”

The girl’s eyes widened suddenly, while the warm glow in them flashed into a fiery and profound scrutiny.

“You are going to make the nominating speech,” she said. It was not a question but a declaration, in the tone of one to whom he stood wholly revealed.

“Yes,” he answered eagerly. “I knew you would see: it’s my chance, my whole career–“

But his mother, turning swiftly, put her hand over his mouth, though it was to Miss Rainey that she cried:

“Oh, don’t let him say it–he can’t; you mustn’t let him!”

The girl drew her gently away and put an arm about her, saying: “Do you think I could stop him?”

“But do you wish to stop me?” asked Hector sadly, as he stepped toward her. “Do you set yourself not only in the way of my great chance, but against justice and truth? Don’t you see that I must do it?”