Caleb smiled faintly. He was leaning back in a big armchair by the fire, and the window before him commanded a view of the mountain trail where he had told Diana that he loved her. He had not yet recovered from the miracle of finding himself under Colonel Royall’s roof. He glanced now about the room and noticed the fine air of simplicity and comfort; the deep-seated leather chairs, the old mahogany table, the portraits of Colonel Royall’s mother and his grandfather in the uniform of the Colonial Army on the walls. On the table was a great cluster of roses from Diana’s hothouses. “I am glad Jacob went,” he said quietly. “Of course!” said the judge with sarcasm, “it’s my belief that William Cheyney warned him in time. It’s like the old fool!” “Dear Dr. Cheyney!” said Caleb warmly. “Dear Dr. Fiddlesticks!” snapped the judge. “I reckon I know William; we played alleys together when we were boys and I licked him about as often as he licked me.” “The eternal bond of friendship,” smiled Caleb. “He’s got off Jacob and you got off Zeb Bartlett,” grumbled the judge, “and if you keep on, at your present gait, you’ll be governor of this State in two years. Then I suppose you and the doctor will empty the penitentiary.” Caleb laughed. “I’ll get your help,” he said, “your heart isn’t as hard as you pretend it is.” “A good many people think I haven’t got one,” said the judge; “I reckon they don’t let you see the papers yet?” Caleb shook his head. The judge grinned. “And yesterday was the first Tuesday in November. Drat ’em, I call that hard! I’ll tell you,” he leaned forward, his fingers on Caleb’s knee, “the Republicans carried the State by a plurality of ten thousand; Peter Mahan is elected.” Caleb’s amazement kept him silent. “Your fault, sir!” said the judge triumphantly, “you ripped the Democracy in two, showed the machine, convicted the governor. By the Lord Harry, boy, I voted the Republican ticket!” Caleb wrung the old man’s hand. “Now I know you love me, Judge!” he said. It was then that the door opened and Diana appeared on the threshold, bearing a little tray, Sammy at her skirts and Shot trailing behind her. “Judge,” she said, “the doctor’s orders--twenty minutes and no politics!” The judge got up and reached for his hat and cane. “I’m guilty, Diana!” he cried. “Then you’ll have to go,” she said, and smiled across at the patient. It was only the third time Caleb had seen her, and he did not know how often she had hung over him in agony when he lay unconscious. Diana, meeting his eyes, turned crimson. She remembered, with a sudden panic, that she had kissed him when she thought that he was dying! Meanwhile, the judge went out grumbling. He was too full of the election to be silenced, and went to drink a mint julep with Colonel Royall. Diana came back into the library leading Sammy. The dog had bounded to his master and lay now on the hearthrug. Caleb stood by his chair, pale but transformed.