, too, was standing and he now turned to go.

"I wish--" said Miss Amabel impulsively. She got on her feet and stood
there a minute, a stately figure in spite of her blurred lines. "I wish
we could have your cooperation, Jeff. Mr. Moore is going to run for
mayor."

"So I hear," said Jeff, and his mind added, "And you are financing his
campaign, you old dear, and only a minute ago you were signing over
securities."

"It means so much," said Miss Amabel, "to have a man who is a friend of
labour. We ought to combine on that. It's enough to heal our
differences."

"Pardon me," said Jeff. "I have to go. But mayn't I take you home?"

"No," said Amabel; "I've another bit of business to settle. But think it
over, Jeff. We can't afford to let personal issues influence us when the
interest of the town is at stake."

"Surely not," said Jeff. "Addington forever!"

As he went down the stairs he smiled a little, remembering Weedie had
not spoken a word after his first greeting. But Jeff didn't waste much
thought on Weedie. He believed, at the crisis, Weedie could be managed.
Miss Amabel had startled his mind broad awake to what she called the
great issues and what he felt were vital ones. He went on over the
bridge, and up the stairs of the old Choate Building to Alston's
office, and, from some sudden hesitancy, tapped on the door.

"Come in," called Alston, and he went.

Alston sat at the table, not reading a novel as Lydia and too many of
his clients had found him, but idle, with not even a book at hand. There
were packets of papers, in a methodical sequence, but everything on the
table bore the aspect of an order not akin to work. Choate looked pale
and harassed. "You?" said his upward glance. "You, of all the people
I've been thinking of? What are you here for?"

There was though, in the look, a faint relief. Perhaps he thought
something connected with the harassing appeal of Esther, the brutalising
stir of her in the air, could be cleared up. Jeff was to surprise him.

"Choate," said he, "have you been asked to run for mayor?"

Choate frowned. He wasn't thinking of public office.

"I've been--approached," he said, as if the word made it the more
remote.

"What did you say?"

"Said I wouldn't. Jeff, I believe you started the confounded thing."

"I've talked a lot," said Jeff. "But any fool knows you've got to do it.
Choate, you're about the only hope of tradition and decency here in
Addington. Don't you know t