confining himself to the details of the State’s progress and needs, was not exactly the leader he had expected him to be.  And yet Harlan was relieved.  He looked at the girl beside him, and that relief smoothed away his disappointment.  As matters were shaping themselves he no longer anticipated that he would be driven into pitched battle, forced to fight intrenched enemies of reform—­Luke Presson’s face most conspicuous of all those behind the party wall of privilege.  As he listened to the address he comforted himself with the thought that probably political disagreements loomed more blackly as a cloud on the horizon than their real consistency warranted.  He was not in retreat—­he would not admit that to himself as he listened.  But he felt that compromise and a better understanding were in the air.  There would be no more occasion for troubled arguments between himself and the girl at his side.  He did not understand exactly in what way it would be done, but he felt that Governor Waymouth knew how to win his reforms without such party slaughter as the first engagements hinted at.  He put himself into a very comfortable frame of mind, and the girl at his side, by her mere presence, added to his belief that this was a pretty good old world, after all.

He had lost some of his respect for “reform.”  It had been exemplified for him mostly by such men as Prouty and his intolerant kind—­by Spinney and his dupes.  He felt that he might call decency by some other name, and arrive at results by the calm and dignified course which Governor Waymouth now seemed to be pointing out.  He suddenly felt a warm appreciation of the wisdom of Madeleine Presson as she had made that good sense known to him in their talks.

“For it is by my works, not my words, that I would be judged,” concluded the Governor, solemnly, and bowed to the applause which greeted the end.

Neither Harlan Thornton nor any other listener in the great assembly hall took those words as signifying anything more than the usual pledge of faithful performance.

After the dissolving of the joint caucus he escorted Madeleine to the council-chamber, where the new Governor was holding his impromptu reception.  There were no shadows on the faces which pressed closely around him.  All the politicians of the State were there, eager to be the first to congratulate him.  Their fears had been somewhat allayed.  In political circles it was well understood that Waymouth stood for a clean-up.  It had been hinted that his programme would be drastic.  The members of the machine, more intimately in the secrets of the convention, had expected that the old Roman would sound the first blast of the charge in his inaugural address.  His moderateness cheered them.  Harlan found congratulation sweetening every comment.

The General received the young couple with marked graciousness.

“Governor Waymouth, you have convinced me to-day that you are the apostle of universal salvation for the wicked—­in politics,” said the girl.  “I hope the doctrine will be accepted.”