vent this by a
positive and aggressive attitude of mind. Beneath his silences, as
beneath his words, ran an undercurrent of suggestion from his
subliminal self to hers. Lambert rose nobly to his duty and directed
the conversation to the mine and its increasing generosity of output,
and to news of the men and their families in whom Viola took deep
interest. In the midst of this most wholesome recollection they ended
their drive.

At the station Morton remained on guard with the women, while Lambert
attended to the trunks and boxes, and at the earliest moment, with
care not to betray haste, they passed through the gates and into their
car, but no feeling of relief came to either of the men till the train
began to move. Then Lambert, with a profound sigh, exclaimed: "Well,
now we're off and we've got the trunks, so let's be happy."

Mrs. Lambert alone remained sad and distraught, and her husband soon
drew her away to their own seat, leaving the young people together, a
deed for which Morton silently, but none the less fervently, thanked
him, affording as it did the chance for his long-desired personal
explanation.

The car was sparsely occupied and the section opposite was quite
empty, and, with a sense of being quite alone with Viola, he lightly
began: "I feel like a truant school-boy, and I'm wondering what
Weissmann will say to-morrow morning when his 'first-assistant' fails
to appear."

"I hope you are not neglecting your work for--for us," she said,
losing a little of her brightness.

"Nothing will suffer. I do not profess to be the main prop of our
laboratory, and, besides, I don't care. I'm off for a holiday, whether
or no." At the word "holiday" Clarke's grisly shadow rose between them
and would not down. To the suicide his holiday was due.

Viola again seemed to dimly divine his thought, for she hesitatingly
said: "I am troubled about Mr. Clarke. I must write him a letter and
tell him that I don't hate him now. I really begin to feel sorry for
him, and I wish I hadn't been so hard."

"You have nothing to reproach yourself for, and you would better let
him pass entirely out of your life, and be glad the wrench is over,"
he decisively replied.

She sighed and shivered a little. "He knew we were deserting him. His
look haunts me. I wish I had stopped to say good-bye. He will be very
lonely without us."

"He is too fanatic to win my sympathy, and he has forfeited yours."

"But he was sincere, professor.