The mob had already sacked the office of the _Times_ in Troy,
broken out in Boston, and threatened Cincinnati.
The President gave the Governor of New York his final answer by sending
an army of ten thousand veterans into the city. He planted his artillery
to sweep the streets with grape and cannister, and ordered the draft to
be immediately enforced.
The new wheel was set up, and turned with bayonets. The mobs were
overawed and the ranks of the army were refilled.
CHAPTER XXXI
BETWEEN THE LINES
Betty Winter found to her sorrow that the memory of a dead love could be
a troublesome thing. Ned Vaughan's tender and compelling passion had
been resistless in the moonlight beneath a fragrant apple tree with the
old mill wheel splashing its music at their feet. She had returned to
her cot in the hospital that night in a glow of quiet, peaceful joy.
Life's problem had been solved at last in the sweet peace of a tender
and beautiful spiritual love--the only love that could be real.
All this was plain, while the glow of Ned's words were in her heart and
the memory of his nearness alive in the fingers and lips he had kissed.
And then to her terror came stealing back the torturing vision of his
brother. Why, why, why could she never shut out the memory of this man!
Over and over again she repeated the angry final word:
"He isn't worth a moment's thought!"
And yet she kept on thinking, thinking, always in the same blind circle.
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