Slowly and thoughtfully he dressed, wondering the while from what depths of awful and forgotten experiences such dreams came.  He was yet awestruck and his spirit quailed when he thought of the eternity behind him.  Meanwhile his trouble with Jane had partly receded to the background of thought and feeling.  He did not expect to see her at his breakfast table.  That was now a long-time-ago pleasure and he thought that by dinner-time he would be more able to cope with the circumstances.

But when he reached the hall the wide door stood open, the morning sunshine flooded the broad white marble steps which led to the entrance and Jane was slowly ascending them.  She had a little basket of fruit in her hand, she was most fittingly gowned, and she looked exquisitely lovely.  As soon as John saw her, he ran down the steps to meet her, and she put her hand in his and he kissed it.  Then they went to the breakfast-table together.

The truce was too sweet to be broken and John took the comfort offered with gratitude.  Jane was in her most charming mood, she waited on him as lord and lover of the home, found him the delicacies he liked, and gave with every one that primordial touch of loving and oneness which is the very heaven of marriage.  She answered his words of affection with radiant smiles and anon began to talk of the Club balloting.  “Was it really an important meeting, John?” she asked.  And to her great surprise John answered, “It would have been hard to make it more important, Jane.”

“About old Akers!  What nonsense!”

“Akers gave us no hesitation.  He was elected without a dissenting vote.  Another subject was, however, opened which is of the most vital importance to cotton-spinners.”

“Whatever is to do, John?”

“America is likely to go to war with herself—­the cotton-spinning States of the North, against the cotton-growing States of the South.”

“What folly!”

“In a business point, yes, but there is something grander than business in it—­an idea that is universally in the soul of man—­the idea of freedom.”

“Yes, I have read about that quarrel, but men won’t fight if it interferes with their business, with their money-making and spinning.”

“You are wrong, Jane.  Men of the Anglo-Saxon race and breeding will fight more stubbornly for an idea than for conquest, injury, or even for some favorite leader.  Most nations fight for some personality; the English race and its congeners fight for a principle or an idea.  My dear, remember that America fought England for eight years only for her right of representation.”

“How can a war in America hurt us?”

[Illustration:  “He ran down the steps to meet her, and she put her hand in his.”]

“By cutting off our cotton supply—­unless England helps the Southern States.”

“But she will do that.”

“No, she will not.”

“What then?”