f political passes, newspaper passes,
and all other subterfuges would be stopped, and that all political
hirelings would be dismissed. I should appeal to the people of this State
to raise up political leaders who would say to the corporations, 'We will
protect you from injustice if you will come before the elected
representatives of the people, openly, and say what you want and why you
want it.' By such a course you would have, in a day, the affection of the
people instead of their distrust. They would rally to your defence. And,
more than that, you would have done a service for American government the
value of which cannot well be estimated."

Mr. Flint rang the bell on his desk, and his secretary appeared.

"Put these in my private safe, Mr. Freeman," he said.

Mr. Freeman took the boxes, glanced curiously at Austen, and went out. It
was the same secretary, Austen recalled, who had congratulated him four
years before. Then Mr. Flint laid his hand deliberately on the desk, and
smiled slightly as he turned to Austen.

"If you had run a railroad as long as I have, Mr. Vane," he said, "I do
you the credit of thinking that you would have intelligence enough to
grasp other factors which your present opportunities for observation have
not permitted you to perceive. Nevertheless, I am much obliged to you for
your opinion, and I value the--frankness in which it was given. And I
shall hope to hear good news of your father. Remember me to him, and tell
him how deeply I feel his affliction. I shall call again in a day or
two."

Austen took up his hat.

"Good day, Mr. Flint," he said; "I will tell him."

By the time he had reached the door, Mr. Flint had gone back to the
window once more, and appeared to have forgotten his presence.

CHAPTER XXIX

THE VALE OF THE BLUE

Austen himself could not well have defined his mental state as he made
his way through the big rooms towards the door, but he was aware of one
main desire--to escape from Fairview. With the odours of the flowers in
the tall silver vases on the piano--her piano!--the spirit of desire
which had so long possessed him, waking and sleeping, returned,--returned
to torture him now with greater skill amidst these her possessions; her
volume of Chopin on the rack, bound in red leather and stamped with her
initials, which compelled his glance as he passed, and brought vivid to
his memory the night he had stood in the snow and heard her playing. So,
he told h