Every newspaper, magazine and publishing-house had installed an Imperial censor. Not a line was allowed to be printed under penalty of death except by his order. Freedom of speech and press was relegated to the dust heap as dead heresies against constituted authority. The people were only told what their masters permitted them to hear. Our press, of course, was unanimous in its praise of the new Imperial régime. “Law,” “Order,” and “Efficiency” were the new watchwords of America. The people were not asked to do any thinking. Their masters did it for them, their part was to obey. Waldron determined to make Virginia Holland the leader of a new woman’s party to proclaim the blessings of the imperial and aristocratic form of government. He honored her with an invitation to his palace to discuss his scheme. When Virginia received the perfumed, crested note, her cheeks flushed with joy. “Thank God!” she murmured fervently. CHAPTER XXXVIII Virginia had just dressed in dead black for her visit to the palace of the Governor-General on the Heights. Waldron insisted on sending a state automobile. The machine was at the door with liveried flunkies standing in stiff servant attitudes. A slender Italian woman passed them with a listless stare and rang the bell of the Holland house. Virginia answered. She had seen the somber figure from the window. “Angela!” she cried in surprise. “Si. Signorina, I may see--you?” “Yes”--was the quick, sympathetic answer. The drooping figure shambled to a seat and dropped. “Tell me--what has happened?” Virginia urged. “You see the papers?” “About the riots on the East Side--yes--the people were very foolish--” The woman leaned close--her breath coming in deep quivering draughts. “They kill my bambino--signorina! The shell tore his little heart all out--see! I bring the flag he wore--all red with blood. And now I come to you--you speak so grand, I want my revenge--” She paused, strangled with emotion. “I keep this flag and I love it too! I will kill and kill and kill! You will tell me how? They kill your father--they kill your brother--you tell me, Signorina! We fight now--you and me--we fight for this flag--is it not so?” She held in her hand the blood-stained emblem. Virginia took the stricken mother in her arms and sobbed with her. “Come with me,” she said in low tones, leading the way to the sitting-room in the rear. She closed the doors, and pressed Angela to her knees. Into the ears of the kneeling woman she whispered an oath. “You swear?” “By the mother of God and all the Saints!” came the quick answer. For ten minutes Virginia gave instructions in tones so low that they could not be heard even by the keenest ear at her door. There was a light of wild joy in the swarthy face as she rose.