CHAPTER XXVIII
THE ALTAR OF EMINENCE
Hate wrong, as a bull hates red;
Fight strong, till the wrong lies dead,
For to him, just God, the fight
Who smites for the sake of the right!
John Hartley, "Juvenilia."
A woman's heart never breaks, but O how often it withers!—Cordelia Vaughan, "Motherhood."
Cordelia's train crept into Montreal one hour and twenty minutes late, and it was already after three before she stepped out of the overheated car into the cool, crisp air of the station platform. She saw a uniformed attendant, and hurried to him at once.
"Can I catch the New York express?" she asked, breathlessly.
"Yes, ma'm!" he answered, promptly.