She telephoned for something to eat--to be sent to her room, for she feared to go to the public dining room, lest she encounter Fownes. At all costs Abner must be kept unaware of her presence. She was as relieved as if full success were hers, and she dressed with animation and pleasure. When she looked in the glass she could not help reflecting that, if she were not an invited guest at the ball she would not be a discredit to it. It was difficult to wait. She paced up and down the room, planning, discarding plans. She endeavored to foresee obstacles and to remove them. She imagined, and enjoyed the imagining, dramatizing the whole evening in advance. She endowed the Governor with the qualities history gave to Abraham Lincoln--more especially in those episodes where he is reported to have arisen from important affairs of state to listen to the story of some wife or daughter whose loved one was to be executed for sleeping on his post. Yet she did not even know what the Governor looked like. His photographs--yes. She had seen his face, but it was not familiar to her, nor whether he was tall or short, brawny or slender.... The picture she painted made him big, broad of shoulder, with a fine, high forehead, noble eyes, and a fatherly manner. Perhaps he would address her as child, and, with courtesy, lead her to some private spot where she would pour her story into his sympathetic ear. He would be amazed, startled, confounded at the news of such a state of affairs in the commonwealth he governed.... And he would act. He would send her away from him with the precious appointment in her hand ... and with lofty words of praise.... She watched the time. It seemed as if days passed instead of hours before she telephoned down for her car. But when she issued from her room to descend, her dreams melted into damp fog and she was terrified. She feared to encounter Fownes at every step. Her heart almost stopped beating as she imagined terrible incidents. Suppose she were stopped at the door! Suppose, once inside, credentials should be demanded of her! Suppose the Governor’s wife should approach with a horrible society air and eye her scornfully and demand by what right she was there! She might be the center of a scene, might be expelled from the place! Almost she repented. Almost she returned to her room. But something compelled her to go on.... The only courage is that which compels one in spite of his terror. The car was waiting. “The Executive Mansion,” she said, and sank back in her place, quivering. Presently, too soon, they drew up before the awning which stretched from the Governor’s door to the street. A servant opened the car door and she alighted. He bowed elaborately. Carmel took it for a good omen. There was no questioning her of her right to be present.... A certain security came of the knowledge that she looked as if she belonged in this world.