CHAPTER XL.
Sorrow and Gladness.
In the parlor of the sanitarium Earl sat awaiting the coming of Eunice, his face telling of the hopes now alive within his heart.
With an exclamation of joy Eunice ran and threw herself into his arms. During her whole stay in the sanitarium the Negro question had not been broached to her and her mind seemed almost normal. Earl now sought to complete the work by letting her know that things had at last been set right and that the color of a man's skin was to no longer be in his way. Standing over her he whispered:
"Eunice, the American people have decreed that the door of hope shall not be closed to any of their citizens because of the accident of birth."
A strange glow came into Eunice's eyes.
"When will the duly authorized power see to it that the states live according to this decree and apply one test to voters of both races," asked Eunice so quietly, so intelligently, that hopes sprang up in Earl's breast.
Stooping, he kissed his wife, saying:
"I can't say, my darling; but it will surely come in time."
"Time!" shrieked Eunice. "Same old thing! Time! Bah! We shall all die in 'time.' Earl, are you turning against me, coming to me with that old word 'time?' Ah! Earl, are you a Southerner? Time! Earl, can't you persuade the people to let justice do now what they are waiting for 'time' to do?"