"Outdo yourself to-night, Barbara. Young Norman Worth, the son of our multi-millionaire nabob, is sitting in the aisle just in front of you. Win him for the Cause and I'll give you the half of our kingdom."
"How can I know him?" the girl asked excitedly.
"He's not ten feet from the platform in the centre aisle—front row—clean shaven—a young giant of twenty-three—the handsomest man in the house. Put your soul and your body in every word you utter, every breath you breathe—and win him!"
"I'll try," was the low reply.
CHAPTER II[ToC]
A NEW JOAN OF ARC
The woman in scarlet rose, lifted her hand, and the crowd sprang to their feet to the music of the most stirring song of revolution ever written.