the next man who goes through what I am undergoing may have cause to thank me if no one else does." Shackwell sat silent for a moment, with the ring of the last words in his ears. Suddenly he rose and held out his hand. "Give me the letter," he said. The Governor caught him up with a kindling eye. "It's all right, then? You see, and you'll take it?" Shackwell met his glance with one of melancholy interrogation. "I think I see a magnificent suicide, but it's the kind of way I shouldn't mind dying myself." He pulled himself silently into his coat and put the letter into one of its pockets, but as he was turning to the door the Governor called after him cheerfully: "By the way, Hadley, aren't you and Mrs. Shackwell giving a big dinner to-morrow?" Shackwell paused with a start. "I believe we are--why?" "Because, if there is room for two more, my wife and I would like to be invited." Shackwell nodded his assent and turned away without answering. As he came out of the lobby into the clear sunset radiance he saw a victoria drive up the long sweep to the Capitol and pause before the central portion. He descended the steps, and Mrs. Mornway leaned from her furs to greet him. "I have called for my husband," she said, smiling. "He promised to get away in time for a little turn in the Park before dinner."