“‘She must indeed be high-minded,’ he said, ‘and you are right in saying that to accept it would invalidate everything. I am of the opinion that your wife has seen clearly in this instance. But’--here he took a turn or two up and down the floor--‘I don’t think it would invalidate my promoting your candidacy before the Legislature in January. It seems to me now to be the best thing for both of us. The fight with Sanders has got to come, and the sooner the better, so that the field can be cleared for my own fight a year and a half from now. Yes, it is decidedly best. You may recall I indicated last spring that I would support your senatorial aspirations in certain contingencies. These contingencies have come to pass. I doubt if we can save the State to the party without joining forces now.’ “Then I told him that I owed money, and could hardly support the position of a Senator here with the salary, less what I was obliged to pay in interest. “‘Nonsense,’ he said; ‘turn your salary over to your wife; she is a woman of uncommonly sound sense, a good manager--that I saw in her house. Of course you can’t go into society on less than your salary, but you can live comfortably and respectably. And let me tell you, this town is full of big houses which caused the Senators who built them to lose their elections. It doesn’t hurt a man with his constituents in the least to live simply. Some of the gentlemen from the rural districts have complained bitterly of this little place----’ “And then, after more talk, everything was settled. I wasn’t to write to Sanders, of course, but to go and see him. Sanders wouldn’t dare to proclaim what we agreed to do, but he will fight me with every weapon at his command. I shouldn’t much care how things went--that is, so I feel now--except for Senator Bicknell, but every blow at Sanders helps the Senator, and I shall fight for him as long as breath warms my body. When we parted I was much overcome, and I think Senator Bicknell was, too. Coming home, it occurred to me how well you had managed on the pittance I allowed you at Circleville.” “It was not much, but it could hardly be called a pittance,” replied Annette, smiling through her tears, for the stress of emotion under which she had suffered had found its natural vent at last, and she was weeping a little. But they were happy tears. Crane had reached the turn in life when it was to be determined whether God or the devil should be his master, and he had turned his back on Satan. He took his wife in his arms and kissed her tenderly and reverently. No one knew better then than he the moral beauty, the power to charm, to sustain, to lead forward, of the woman he had not thought worthy to stand by him in Washington. * * * * * The next morning early, Crane started West. He had his fateful interview with Sanders and returned to Washington within a week. Sanders’s words had been few, but full of meaning.