her first impulse was to run up the staircase to her
room. But she heard Mrs. Pomfret's voice on the landing above and fled,
as to a refuge, into the dark drawing-room, where she stood for a moment
motionless, listening for the sound of his sleigh-bells as they fainted
on the winter's night. Then she seated herself to think, if she could,
though it is difficult to think when one's heart is beating a little
wildly. It was Victoria's nature to think things out. For the first time
in her life she knew sorrow, and it made it worse that that sorrow was
indefinable. She felt an accountable attraction for this man who had so
strangely come into her life, whose problems had suddenly become her
problems. But she did not connect the attraction for Austen Vane with her
misery. She recalled him as he had left her, big and strong and
sorrowful, with a yearning look that was undisguised, and while her faith
in him came surging back again, she could not understand.

Gradually she became aware of men's voices, and turned with a start to
perceive that the door of the library was open, and that Humphrey Crewe
and another were standing in the doorway against the light. With an
effort of memory she identified the other man as the Mr. Tooting who had
made himself so useful at Mr. Crewe's garden party.

"I told you I could make you governor, Mr. Crewe," Mr. Tooting was
saying. "Say, why do you think the Northeastern crowd--why do you think
Hilary Vane is pushing your bills down the sidings? I'll tell you,
because they know you're a man of ability, and they're afraid of you, and
they know you're a gentleman, and can't be trusted with their deals, so
they just shunted you off at Kodunk with a jolly about sendin' you to
Congress if you made a hit on a national speech. I've been in the
business a good many years, and I've seen and done some things for the
Northeastern that stick in my throat"--(at this point Victoria sat down
again and gripped the arms of her chair), "I don't like to see a decent
man sawbucked the way they're teeterin' you, Mr. Crewe. I know what I'm
talkin' about, and I tell you that Ridout and Jake Botcher and Brush
Bascom haven't any more notion of lettin' your bills out of committee
than they have Gaylord's. Why? Because they've got orders not to."

"You're making some serious charges, Mr. Tooting," said Mr. Crewe.

"And what's more, I can prove 'em. You know yourself that anybody who
talks against the Northeastern is boo