"You've always found you could count on me, ain't you?"
"Yes."
"And you always can!"
Mr. Baxter touched a button beneath his desk. "Have Mitchell show Mr. Johnson out," he said to the maid who answered the ring. "Do you know where Mrs. Baxter is?"
"In her room, sir."
Johnson bowed awkwardly, and backed away after the maid.
"Good-night," Mr. Baxter said shortly, and followed the two out. He crossed the library with the intention of going to the room of his wife, who had come to town to be with him during the crisis of the expected victory, but he met her in the hall ready to go out.
"My dear, some important business has just come up," he said. "I'm afraid there's nothing for me to do but to attend to it to-night."
"That's too bad! I don't care for myself, for it's only one of those stupid musical comedies. I only cared to go because I thought it would help you through the suspense of the evening."
After the exchange of a few more words he kissed her and she went quietly back to her room. He watched her a moment, wondering if she would bear herself with such calm grace if she knew what awaited him in to-morrow's papers.