good. And how modest
and unselfish she had been to make the attempt to exalt another
author when she herself was so much greater. Wilbur fully exonerated
Margaret for what she did in the case of Martha Wallingford in the
light of this revelation. His modest, generous, noble wife had
honestly endeavoured to do the girl a favour, to assist her in spite
of herself and she had received nothing save rudeness, ingratitude,
and humiliation in return. Now, she was asserting herself. She was
showing all Fairbridge that she was the one upon whom honour should
be showered. She was showing him and rightfully. He remembered with
compunction his severity toward her on account of the Martha
Wallingford affair, his beautiful, gifted Margaret! Why, even then
she might have electrified that woman's club by making the revelation
which she had won to-night and reading this same selection from her
own book. He had not read Martha Wallingford's _Hearts Astray_. He
thought that the title was enough for him. He knew that it must be
one of the womanish, hysterical, sentimental type of things which he
despised. But Margaret had been so modest that she had held back from
the turning on the search-light of her own greater glory. She had
made the effort which had resulted so disastrously to obtain a lesser
one, and he had condemned her. He knew that women always used
circuitous ways toward their results, just as men used sledge-hammer
ones. Why should a man criticise a woman's method any more than a
woman criticise a man's? Wilbur, blushing like a girl with pride and
delight, listened to his wife and fairly lashed himself. He was
wholly unworthy of such a woman, he knew.

When the reading was over and people crowded around Margaret and
congratulated her, he stood aloof. He felt that he could not speak of
this stupendous thing with her until they were alone. Then Doctor
Sturtevant's great bulk pressed against him and his sonorous voice
said in his ear, "By Jove, old man, your wife has drawn a lucky
number. Congratulations." Wilbur gulped as he thanked him. Then
Sturtevant went on talking about a matter which was rather dear to
Wilbur's own ambition and which he knew had been tentatively
discussed: the advisability of his running for State Senator in the
autumn. Wilbur knew it would be a good thing for him professionally,
and at the bottom of his heart he knew that his wife's success had
been the last push toward his own. Other men came in and beg