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It certainly could not be called a popular will, and, complimentary as the newspapers were to the energy and success of John Grier, few of them called him public-spirited, or a generous-hearted citizen. In his death he paid the price of his egotism. The most surprised person, however, was Junia Shale.
There it was and you were to blame." "But why should you defend her, Junia?" Her tongue became bitter now. "Just as you would, if it was some one else and not yourself." His head was sunk on his breast, his eyes were burning. "It was a horrible thing for Barouche to plan." "Why so horrible? If you were hiding a marriage for whatever reason, it should be known to all whose votes you wanted."
"Well, how do you intend to defeat your husband?" "I mean to have the people asked from a platform if they've seen the wife of the candidate, and then a copy of the certificate will be read to all. What do you think will happen after that?" "It will have to be done to-night or to-morrow night," remarked Junia. "Because the election comes the day after to-morrow, eh "Because of that.
It was like a storm, at sea-wind from one direction, then from another, but I think on the whole we had the best of it. Don't you think so?" he added to Fabian's wife. "Oh, much the best," she answered. "That's so, Junia, isn't it?" "I wouldn't say so positively," answered Junia. "I don't understand Monsieur Barouche. He talked as if he had something up his sleeve." Her face became clouded.
He knew the stress of spirit which had turned Carnac from the opportunity lying at his feet. In spite of himself there ran through his mind another thought. Near by, at the left, dressed in mourning also, was Junia. He had made up his mind that Junia should be his, and suddenly the usefulness of the business about to fall into his hands became a weapon in the field of Love.
"Why do you say I'm a liar?" he asked, flushing a little, though there was intense inquiry in his eyes. "Because I think it. It isn't your work only that's taking you away." Suddenly she laughed. "What a fool you are, Carnac! You're not a good actor. You're not going away for work's sake only." "Not for work's sake only that's true." "Then why do you go?" "I'm in a mess, Junia.
He had seen much of Junia Shale in these years and had grown fond of her, but she was away much with an aunt in the West, and she was sent to boarding-school, and they saw each other only at intervals. She liked him and showed it, but he was not ready to go farther. As yet his art was everything to him, and he did not think of marriage. He was care-free.
Fabian had at last married an elder sister of Junia Shale and settled down in a house on the hill, and the lumber-king, John Grier, went on building up his splendid business. At last, Carnac, feeling he was making small headway with his painting, determined to go again to New York and Paris. He had already spent a year in each place and it had benefited him greatly.
He did his best and it was an effective best. Junia had been in the City of Quebec, but she came back at the end of a fortnight, and went to his office to get a subscription for a local charity. She had a gift in this kind of work. It was a sunny day in the month of June, and as she entered the office a new spirit seemed to enter with her. The place became distinguished.
"What's he going to do?" she asked in a bitter voice. "Join Belloc fight his own father try to do me in the race," growled the old man. "Who told you that?" "Junia, she told me." "What does she know about it? Who told her that?" asked the woman with faded lips. "She always had sense, that child. I wish she was a man."
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