"But, Dr. Polnitzski," I protested eagerly, "I do not want to force your confidence, but you cannot stop such a story there." He looked at me a moment as if he would not go on. Then his face darkened. "What could the end of such a story be?" he demanded. "Any end must be ruin and agony. Should I be moved by personal feelings to be false to everything I held sacred? Should I take my revenge at the price of professional honor? I said to myself that in time she might come to care for me, if this man were out of her life. Kindness could do so much with some women. But could I make such a choice?" "No," I said slowly, "you could not do that." "Could I restore him to life, then, and have him go on beating that poor girl and flinging her into the ditch at last?" I had no answer. "Could I let him live to destroy the patriots whose sworn fellow I was? Do you think I could ever sleep again without dreaming of their fate? Could I kill him there in his bed--I, the physician he trusted? Could I do that?" "In God's name," I cried, "what did you do?" He regarded me with a look that challenged my very deepest thought. "The patriots were spared," he answered. "That was my fee for saving the life of General Kakonzoff. A year later I paid for having asked that favor by being exiled myself." "And--and--the other?" I asked. "She, thank God, is dead." For a moment or two we remained motionless and unspeaking. Then I silently held out my hand to him. I had no words. IN THE VIRGINIA ROOM "Childless," was the word which she murmured in her heart, as she entered the building which had once been the Presidential Mansion of Jefferson Davis and now is the Confederate Museum. Why the thought of her estranged daughter flashed upon her as she came to do honor to the memory of her long dead husband, Mrs. Desborough could not have told, but so overwhelming was the sadness of her mood that she could hardly wonder if this bitter memory took advantage of her moment of weakness to obtrude itself. She set her lips tightly and put it determinedly into the background. She would not think of the daughter who was lost to her; to-day and here no thought but should go back in loving homage and passionate grief to the hero whose name she bore.