“Now that it’s all over,” she laughed, “I rather envy you that you were rescued by such a handsome cavalier.”
“Really,” drawled Kate, “I should have preferred not being rescued. The owner of a coach, a coat of arms, silver harness, and the best horses in the country! I could drive on forever.”
But later, alone with Susan, she looked hard at her:
“So you fainted yesterday?”
“Oh, I’m a perfect coward,” returned the other, frankly.
Kate’s mind rapidly swept the rough and troubled past; the haphazard sea upon which they had embarked so long ago––
“Dear me!” she remarked quietly, and Susan turned to conceal a blush.
Owing to the magistrate’s zeal in relating the story of the rescue, the players’ success that night was great.
“The hall was filled to overflowing,” says the manager in his date book. “At the end of the second act, 192 the little girl was called out, and much to her inward discomfiture the magistrate presented her with a bouquet and the audience with a written speech. Taking advantage of the occasion, he pointed a political moral from the tale, and referred to his own candidacy to the legislature, where he would look after the interests of the rank and file. It was time the land-owners were taught their places––not by violence––Oh, no––no French methods for Americans!––by ballot, not by bullet! Let the people vote for an amendment to the constitution!
“As we were preparing to leave the theater, the magistrate appeared behind the scenes. ‘Of course, Mr. Barnes, you will appear against the patroon?’ he said. ‘His prosecution will do much to fortify the issue.’