s, but not very
successfully. Love is the finest logic nature ever achieves. Nothing, no
argument however reasonable and expedient, can withstand it. She thought
continually of him as an enemy she must face sooner or later. She loved
him--at least she feared that she did. But she was still so young that
she longed for sacrifice. She wished to give the whole of her life to
women. She could not do that and give the whole of her heart to Bob. She
did not reflect that this is the law of women's hearts with which no
privilege of citizenship can interfere, and that all the other women for
whom she sacrificed herself would be doing just this thing if there
should be enough men about to receive their hearts. One thing was
certain: she had "grown." She was no longer the girl she had been,
shrinking, timid, yet filled with longings to live her own life, to do
things. Three months ago she had but one outlook, that of marrying Bob
Sasnett and spending the remainder of her days as Mrs. Sasnett's
daughter-in-law--that is to say, in total eclipse. Now, she reflected,
as the car rolled silently toward the distant courthouse dome, showing
gray above the trees of Jordantown, now some day she might become a
lawyer and plead a case beneath that very dome!

"Good evening, sweet Goddess of Liberty! Deign to bend your far-seeing
eyes upon your humble slave!"

"Mr. Sasnett!" exclaimed Selah, as he advanced from the deep shade of an
elm tree beside the road, where he appeared to have been standing.

"No, not 'Mr. Sasnett!' I left him an hour since, vainly contending with
Susan Walton, in the effort to gain her consent for the bank to extend
the loan to the Acres Mercantile Company another six months, and----"

Selah laughed.

"Don't interrupt, Minerva! I say that I left this fellow Sasnett
imploring her, paying her undue compliments with this charitable end in
view, while Acres waited outside the door of the directors' room. This
poor adventurer whom you behold bound at present to your chariot wheel,
is none other than 'Bob,'" he concluded, smiling up at her with
whimsical audacity.

"But what are you doing out here at this hour? It's almost tea time,"
she exclaimed with well-simulated innocence.

"Waiting for you," he replied, accusing her innocence with a stare so
bold that she blushed.

"That was kind of you. Get in!" she said, thrusting the door of the car
open and making room for him on the seat.

"It is not my idea to return to