e flushed and lifted her head,
for there was no lack of pride or spirit in her softness. Yet by and by
she could not help looking at him across the table with another soft
appeal in her sweet eyes which plead dumbly for old times' sake. And
after breakfast was over she tried again, knowing that this would be the
last opportunity, and yearning with all her loving heart to win back
some of the old friendliness that she still prized as a precious thing,
which she could not give up for a mere touch of pride. Such soft
persistence is even harder to evade than to resist, and she followed
William to the door as he was going away later in the day, and was
bravely gathering courage while he looked at her in implacable coldness.

He was not softened by the fact that his hopes were high that morning
over what appeared to be the certainty of his receiving the appointment.
There was, he thought, not the slightest doubt if he could manage to
secure the influence of one or two other leading citizens. As it was,
there seemed to be little danger of failure, and when he now saw Philip
Alston coming, he paused and waited for him to come up, so that he
might tell him what he had been doing. He did not know that he was
merely telling Philip Alston how his own orders had been carried out,
and there was nothing in that gentleman's manner to remind him.

William Pressley, accordingly, went on talking with the modest
consciousness of having done all that was possible for any man to do,
and he said, as they were entering the great room, that he considered
his success a mere question of time.

"A mere question of time, and a very short time, too," repeated Philip
Alston, heartily. "I congratulate you. I am proud of you. We are all
proud of him--hey, judge?"

"I hope he knows what he is trying to undertake," the judge said
abruptly, turning a glum look on his nephew. "I trust, William, that you
are realizing the responsibility of this office. Most men would hesitate
to assume it. I should tremble at the thought."

"I think, sir, that I shall be able to do my duty." William Pressley
spoke stiffly, with a touch of condescension and a shade of resentment,
such as he always evinced at any sign that the censer might cease to
swing.

"It isn't a simple matter of duty. It's a much more complicated matter
of ability," the judge said sternly.

"Pardon me, sir, but it really does not seem to me such a difficult
place to fill," said William, loftily.