Will you tell me, Joe? Can I do
anything at all to help you?" Joe smiled faintly, grateful for the
sympathy and for the gentle words of her friend.
"No, Sybil dear. It is nothing--there is nothing you can do. Thanks,
dearest--I shall be very well in a little while. It is nothing, really. Is
the carriage there?"
A few minutes later, Joe and Ronald were again at Miss Schenectady's
house. Joe recovered her self-control on the way, and asked Ronald to come
in, an invitation which he cheerfully accepted.
John Harrington had spent the day in a state of anxiety which was new to
him. Enthusiastic by nature, he was calm by habit, and he was surprised to
find his hand unsteady and his brain not capable of the intense
application he could usually command. Ten minutes after the results of the
election were known at the State House, he received a note from a friend
informing him with expressions of hearty sympathy how the day had gone.
The strong physical sense of pain which accompanies all great
disappointments, took hold of him, and he fell back in his seat and closed
his eyes, his teeth set and his face pale with the suffering, while his
broad hands convulsively grasped the heavy oaken arms of his chair.
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