" "To-morrow will be too late," replied the widow, in a hollow voice, "I feel it will. . ” He stared in amazement at this new aspect of the situation. She had found the mausoleum underneath a broken monument. She watched as his headlights flooded the driveway and many minutes after his car was gone. She thought that women were not made for the struggle and turmoil of life— their place was the little world, the home; that their power lay not in votes but in influence over men and in making the minds of their children fine and splendid. It had been cut down before life was extinct, but a ball from one of the soldiers had pierced his heart. "'Faith, an' you may say that," returned a watchman, who was wiping a ruddy stream from his brow; "they've broken the paice, and our pates into the bargain. I'm sure she'll let me go, though.
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