Her plans are fully formed, and none so fit as Gloria to carry them into effect. In every part of the kingdom she has faithful emissaries at work. Aided by them, large open-air meetings are to be convened, which she will address in turn, vanishing as quickly and mysteriously as she appears. In this way she will be able to hold communication with the people in every part of the country, and scatter broadcast the seeds of her great doctrine. She knows full well that aid and sympathy will come to her from all parts of the world. She is sending messengers in every direction, Mrs. de Lara having volunteered to visit America on behalf of her child’s cause. She knows that the flame once kindled, will never more be extinguished, until victory waves aloft the wand of peace. If in the struggle she be doomed to fall—what matter, so that the great cause triumph? She has the law against her, but law is only strong so long as the people acknowledge it to be just, and agree to obey it. No law is binding or sacred which has not been ratified by the people’s approval. There is no natural Divine right which gives to a few men the power and authority to impose on millions a command to obey. Might alone can force it. It has been declared that might is right. What if the people defy might, and struggle against its tyranny for the triumph of right? She sits on alone, revolving this truth in her mind. Thought absorbs her with its dreamy influence, carrying her on beyond the present into the great unfathomed future before her. She sees the storm which she has raised angry and defiant, the elements thereof tossed and buffeted, but she knows that after that storm the waves of fury will be stilled in a great calm. “Dreaming, Gloria? Of what, pray?” She starts. The voice thrills her, for she loves it well. Gloria’s contact with the world in her self-imposed duties has not blunted or dulled the instincts of Nature. In past days, it was a favourite remark with our grandmothers and grandfathers, that woman’s connection with the coarser things of life would degrade her by constant familiarity with them. Poor things! They judged of Nature from the narrow-minded platforms on which they had been educated, knew nothing of and cared nothing for the sighs of liberty, or the rights of Nature. Yes! though her life has been one of constant intercourse with man, though she has been and is familiar with the coarser things of life, Gloria loves, and loves truly and well. Hers is not the love of a timid, ignorant girl, longing to escape the captivity in which she has been reared, or the selfish, guilty love of the _intriguante_, whose love would fade and disappear were it not deemed unholy. Hers is the love of one who, knowing the world well, understanding the character of man, drilled to a knowledge of the laws of Nature, yet elects to love one being above all others. Gloria’s love is one that once given, can never die.