In Deborah’s school, in the meantime, affairs had drawn to a climax.  The moment had come for the city to say whether her new experiment should be dropped the following year or allowed to go on and develop.  There came a day of sharp suspense when Deborah’s friends and enemies on the Board of Education sat down to discuss and settle her fate.  They were at it for several hours, but late in the afternoon they decided not only to let her go on the next year but to try her idea in four other schools and place her in charge with ample funds.  The long strain came to an end at last in a triumph beyond her wildest hopes; when the news arrived she relaxed, grew limp, and laughed and cried a little.  And her father felt her tremble as he held her a moment in his arms.

“Now, Baird,” he thought, “your chance has come.  For God’s sake, take it while it’s here!”

But in place of Baird that afternoon came men and women from the press, and friends and fellow workers.  The door-bell and the telephone kept ringing almost incessantly.  Why couldn’t they leave her a moment’s peace?  Roger buried himself in his study.  Later, when he was called to dinner, he found that Allan was there, too, but at first the conversation was all upon Deborah’s victory.  Flushed with success, for the moment engrossed in the wider field she saw ahead, she had not a thought for anything else.  But after dinner the atmosphere changed.

“To hear me talk,” she told them, “you’d think the whole world depended on me, and on my school and my ideas.  Me, me, me!  And it has been me all winter long!  What a time I’ve given both of you!”

She grew repentant and grateful, first to her father and then to Allan, and then more and more to Allan, with her happy eyes on his.  And with a keen worried look at them both, Roger rose and left the room.

* * * * *

Baird was leaning forward.  He had both her hands in his own.

“Well?” he asked.  “Will you marry me now?”

Her eyes were looking straight into his.  They kept moving slightly, searching his.  Her wide, sensitive lips were tightly compressed, but did not quite hide their quivering.  When she spoke her voice was low and a little queer and breathless: 

“Do you want any children, Allan?”

“Yes.”

“So do I. And with children, what of my work?”

“I don’t want to stop your work.  If you marry me we’ll go right on.  You see I know you, Deborah, I know you’ve always grown like that—­by risking what you’ve got to-day for something more to-morrow.”

“I’ve never taken a risk like this!”

“I tell you this time it’s no risk!  Because you’re a grown woman—­formed!  I’m not making a saint of you.  You’re no angel down among the poor because you feel it’s your duty in life—­it’s your happiness, your passion!  You couldn’t neglect them if you tried!”

“But the time,” she asked him quickly.  “Where shall I find the time for it all?”