"I know it's late," he said apologetically, "but there's a bit of my
message I'd like to read to you. There'll be no time in the morning if
you're still bent on taking the early train to Tuscarora. I'd like
your opinion whether it's what the plain people want."
Mrs. Shelby found the reading unspeakably juiceless and went yawning to
bed. Nor did the governor detain Bowers long. A servant entering
presently discovered Shelby before the grate alone.
"Don't wait up for me," he directed kindly. "I'll see to this fire,
and remember not to blow out the gas."
The relic of the old regime restrained his surprise at these democratic
doings, smiled decorously, and withdrew. Jocosity slipped out at his
dignified heels. The man before the fire drank deep in self-communion,
and his face was grave. For the first time that crowded day he could
look his future in the face. Yet, evoked by a woman's handclasp in the
long line which had filed by him as he stood in the executive chamber
surrounded by his glittering staff, it was the past which most absorbed
him. It struck him as a wanton caprice of fate that they should have
been flung together that day. Ruth, whom he had promised a share in
these honors; Ruth, whom he had boasted that he would return and claim;
Ruth, whom he had put away because he must, because of a loftier
standard which--grimmest irony of all!--she herself had unwittingly set
up. He wondered--as he had wondered often in the years which had
witnessed her marriage, his own, and his rise to power--whether she
_had_ waited that night; whether she _had_ cared as he, apart from the
red passion of the struggle, could perceive that he had cared.
A vagrant memory of the morning's inauguration intruded. The moment of
his oath had been a time of solemn consecration for him, a laying on of
hands unseen; the shades of his greatest predecessors stood round
about; the genius of the state was in presence. Then came Cora and
kissed him. Emotional souls in the gallery applauded the act, but the
husband divined its prompting egoism and was cold.
CHAPTER II
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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