These changes have been rapid. Little more than a month has passed away since the death of Gloria de Lara resounded through the world, and already the vision which her childhood’s genius conjured up as she spoke to the waves of the blue Adriatic, and predicted victory, is on the eve of realisation. For even as it had been her first act of power to bring in a bill for the complete emancipation of women, so is it Evie Ravensdale’s intention to do likewise. But the position is different. When Hector D’Estrange submitted his bill to the Commons, he knew that for many reasons it was doomed, the first, and foremost being that the country had not spoken, or pronounced unmistakably for or against the change. On this occasion there can be no misunderstanding however, for the Parliament returned gives the D’Estrangeites a majority over the other parties in the House combined, and in plain words declares the will of the people. But there is just this difference again. Whereas the first bill was introduced to the Commons, the second, in virtue of Evie Ravensdale’s rank, must make its _début_ in the Lords. Will this latter assembly accept it? It remains to be seen. Yet surely in the face of the country’s mandate, the peers will submit to the people’s wishes! No wonder then that the brain of the young Premier is busy and hard at work. In three hours from now, he will be submitting the bill to his peers, and appealing to them in the name of justice and right, in the name of fairness and honesty, in the name of the great dead, to breathe upon it the breath of life. Surely the victory which the child Gloria foretold, which the young genius foresaw, is now at length to be won. Ah! surely yes. “My darling,” he whispers softly, as the vision, which for a few brief moments has shone in the gleaming coals, passes away in the changing light thereof, “my darling, would to God that you were here, would to God that I had the counsel of your clear brain, the courage of your strong heart to support me! Yet hear me, Gloria, and help me to keep my vow. Have I not sworn to dedicate my life to the great work which your noble genius conceived and sought to accomplish? And with God’s help I will be the faithful servant of your great cause. So help me God!” He rises as he speaks, and fixes his gaze on the painting above him. It almost seems to him as though the figure of Hector D’Estrange portrayed therein, stands there in living life. He can hardly realise, as he looks at the beautiful face, that the spirit which made Gloria so noble in life, does not animate it now. In the subdued light and the flickering gleam of the fire, the features look living and real; to Evie Ravensdale they bring high resolves and noble inspirations, which only the influence of that which is great and lofty, can awaken. * * * * *