Of this dramatic struggle Eliza Appleton had watched every phase with intensest interest; but when at last she knew that the battle was won she experienced a peculiar revulsion of feeling. So long as O'Neil had been working against odds, with the prospect of ruin and failure forever imminent, she had felt an almost painful sympathy, but now that he had conquered she felt timid about congratulating him. He was no longer to be pitied and helped; he had attained his goal and the fame he longed for. His success would inevitably take him out of her life. She was very sorry that he needed her no longer. She did not watch the last bridge-member swung, but went to her room, and tried to face the future. Spring was here, her book was finished, there was the need to take up her life again. She was surprised when Murray came to find her. "I missed you, Eliza," he said. "The others are all down at the river-bank. I want you to congratulate me." She saw, with a jealous twinge, that exultation over his victory had overcome his weariness, that his face was alight with a fire she had never before seen. He seemed young, vigorous, and masterful once more. "Of course," he went on, "the credit belongs to Parker, who worked the bridge out in each detail--he's marvelous--and to Mellen, who actually built it, but I helped a little. Praise to me means praise to them." "It is all over now, isn't it?" "Practically. Blaine has cabled New York that we've won. Strictly speaking, we haven't as yet, for there's still the break-up to face; but the bridge will come through it without a scratch. The ice may go out any minute now, and after that I can rest." He smiled at her gladly. "It will feel good to get rid of all this responsibility, won't it? I think you've suffered under it as much as I have." A little wistfully she answered: "You're going to realize that dream you told me about the day of the storm at Kyak. You have conquered this great country--just as you dreamed." He acquiesced eagerly, boyishly. "Yes. Whirring wheels, a current of traffic, a broad highway of steel--that's the sort of monument I want to leave." "Sometime I'll come back and see it all completed and tell myself that I had a little part in making it." "Come back?" he queried. "Why, you're going to stay till we're through, aren't you?" "Oh no! I'm going south with the spring flight--on the next boat, perhaps." His face fell; the exultant light gradually faded from his eyes. "Why--I had no idea! Aren't you happy here?" She nodded. "But I must try to make good in my work as you have in yours."