n was speaking, of being
surrounded by the strange, disquieting gaze of the counsel for the
Railroad....

I went back to my office to spend an uneasy morning. My sorrow for Mr.
Watling was genuine, but nevertheless I found myself compelled to
consider an honour no man lightly refuses. Had it presented itself at any
other time, had it been due to a happier situation than that brought
about by the illness of a man whom I loved and admired, I should have
thought the prospect dazzling indeed, part and parcel of my amazing luck.
But now--now I was in an emotional state that distorted the factors of
life, all those things I hitherto had valued; even such a prize as this I
weighed in terms of one supreme desire: how would the acceptance of the
senatorship affect the accomplishment of this desire? That was the
question. I began making rapid calculations: the actual election would
take place in the legislature a year from the following January; provided
I were able to overcome Nancy's resistance--which I was determined to
do--nothing in the way of divorce proceedings could be thought of for
more than a year; and I feared delay. On the other hand, if we waited
until after I had been duly elected to get my divorce and marry Nancy my
chances of reelection would be small. What did I care for the senatorship
anyway--if I had her? and I wanted her now, as soon as I could get her.
She--a life with her represented new values, new values I did not define,
that made all I had striven for in the past of little worth. This was a
bauble compared with the companionship of the woman I loved, the woman
intended for me, who would give me peace of mind and soul and develop
those truer aspirations that had long been thwarted and starved for lack
of her. Gradually, as she regained the ascendency over my mind she
ordinarily held--and from which she had been temporarily displaced by the
arrival of Mr. Watling's letter and the talk in the bank--I became
impatient and irritated by the intrusion. But what answer should I give
to Dickinson and Gorse? what excuse for declining such an offer? I
decided, as may be imagined, to wait, to temporize.

The irony of circumstances--of what might have been--prevented now my
laying this trophy at Nancy's feet, for I knew I had only to mention the
matter to be certain of losing her.

XXIII.

I had bought a small automobile, which I ran myself, and it was my custom
to arrive at the farm every evening about f