r its disappearance in the flames, would break poor Davidge's heart
and leave her to the same ignominy in his memory.

While the train swung on toward Washington, she added another torment
to her collection: how could she save Davidge from Nicky without
betraying her sister's husband into the hands of justice? What right
had she to tell Davidge anything when her sacred duty to her family
and her poor sister must first be heartlessly violated?

BOOK VII

AT THE SHIPYARD

[Illustration: Nobody recognized the lily-like beauty of Miss Webling in
the smutty-faced passer-boy crouching at Sutton's elbow.]

CHAPTER I

Mamise was astounded by the altered aspect of her own soul, for people
can on occasion accomplish what the familiar Irish drillmaster invited
his raw recruits to do--"Step out and take a look at yourselves."

Also, like the old lady of the nursery rhymes whose skirts were cut
off while she slept, Mamise regarded herself with incredulity and
exclaimed:

"Can this be I?"

If she had had a little dog at home, it would have barked at her in
unrecognition and convinced her that she was not herself.

What astounded her was the realization that the problem of disregarding
either her love or her duty was no longer a difficult problem. In
London, when she had dimly suspected her benefactors, the Weblings,
of betraying the trust that England put in them, she had abhorred
the thought of mentioning her surmise to any one who might harm them.
Later, at the shipyard, when she had suspected her sister's husband of
disloyalty, she had put away the thought of action because it would
involve her sister's ruin. But now, as she left Baltimore, convinced
that her sister's husband was in a plot against her lover and her
country, she felt hardly so much as a brake on her eagerness for the
sacrifice of her family or herself. The horror had come to be a solemn
duty so important as to be almost pleasant. She was glad to have
something at last to give up for her nation.

The thorough change in her desires was due to a complete change in
her soul. She had gradually come to love the man whose prosperity was
threatened by her sister's husband, and her vague patriotism had been
stirred from dreams to delirium. Almost the whole world was
undergoing such a war change. The altar of freedom so shining
white had recently become an altar of sacrifice splashed with the
blood of its votaries. Men were offering themselves, cast