she could detach from the rest in her
mental image of him. There was no single characteristic of which she
could say: "He may be common; he may be vulgar; but he strikes the note
of greatness here--and here--and here." With such a man, she felt, the
direct and obvious appeal of Rose Stribling would be victorious. He
could discern pink and white and blue and gold; but the indeterminate
shades, the subtleties and mysteries of charm were enigmatical to him.
His emotions would be as literal as his convictions or his oratory. Yet
there must be some faculty in him which did not appear on the surface,
some primitive grasp of realities in his understanding of men. Why
should the influence of this sanguine, loud-talking demagogue, she asked
herself the next minute, be greater than the influence of John Benham,
who possessed every admirable trait except the ability to make people
follow him? What was this fundamental difference in material or
structure which divided them so completely? When she had traced it to
its source would she discover the secret of Vetch's conquering
personality?

Looking away from the General, her eyes rested for a moment on Stephen
Culpeper, who was listening with his reserved impersonal attention to
the amusing prattle of Patty Vetch. Obeying an imperative rule, Mrs.
Berkeley had placed her youngest guests together; and yet, if Stephen
had been seventy-five instead of twenty-six, he could sparcely have had
less in common with the Governor's daughter. With her small glossy head,
and her scarlet cheeks and lips above the fan of ostrich feathers, the
girl reminded Corinna of a spray of Christmas holly, all dark and bright
and shining. Ever since Patty's first visit to the print shop Corinna
had felt a genuine liking for her. The girl had something deeper than
charm, reflected the older woman; she had determination and endurance,
the essentials of character. Of course she was crude, she was ignorant;
but these are never insurmountable obstacles except to the dull. With
intelligence and resourcefulness all things are possible--even the
metamorphosis of a circus rider's daughter into a woman of the world.

Becoming suddenly aware that Vetch was silent, and that Mrs. Berkeley
had turned to Judge Page on her left, Corinna looked for the first time
into the frank blue eyes of the Governor. Strange eyes they were, she
thought, the one striking feature in a face that was ordinary. It was
like looking down into the