onfidence of the people and
the enthusiastic personal devotion of the young men throughout the
state. Olivia, more of a politician than Fred even, knew the whole
story; and Pauline listened appreciatively. Few indeed are the homes in
strenuously political Indiana where politics is not the chief subject
of conversation, and Pauline had known about parties and campaigns as
early as she had known about dolls and dresses.

"But you must have heard most of this," said Olivia, "from people here
in Saint X."

"Some of it--from father and mother," Pauline answered. "They're the
only people I've seen really to talk to on my little visits. They know
him very well indeed. I think mother admires him almost as much as you
do. Here's our place," she added, the warmth fading from her face as
from a spring landscape when the shadow of the dusk begins to creep
over it.

They were in the grounds of the Eyrie--the elder Dumont was just
completing it when he died early in the previous spring. His widow
went abroad to live with her daughter and her sister in Paris; so her
son and his wife had taken it. It was a great rambling stone house
that hung upon and in a lofty bluff. From its windows and verandas and
balconies could be seen the panorama of Saint Christopher. To the left
lay the town, its ugly part--its factories and railway yards--hidden by
the jut of a hill. Beneath and beyond to the right, the shining river
wound among fields brown where the harvests had been gathered, green
and white where myriads of graceful tassels waved above acres on acres
of Indian corn. And the broad leaves sent up through the murmur of the
river a rhythmic rustling like a sigh of content. Once in a while a
passing steamboat made the sonorous cry of its whistle and the
melodious beat of its paddles echo from hill to hill. Between the
house and the hilltop, highway lay several hundred acres of lawn and
garden and wood.

The rooms of the Eyrie and its well-screened verandas were in a cool
twilight, though the September sun was hot.

"They're all out, or asleep," said Pauline, as she and Olivia entered
the wide reception hall. "Let's have tea on the east veranda. Its
view isn't so good, but we'll be cooler. You'd like to go to your room
first?"

Olivia said she was comfortable as she was and needed the tea. So they
went on through the splendidly-furnished drawing-room and were going
through the library when Olivia paused before a portrait-