The Quest of the Silver Fleece
Thirty: The Return Of Zora
"I never realized before just what a lie meant," said Zora.
The paper in Mrs. Vanderpool's hands fell quickly to her lap, and she gazed across the
As she gazed that odd mirage of other days haunted her again. She did not seem to see
her maid, nor the white and satin morning-room. She saw, with some long inner sight, a
vast hall with mighty pillars; a smooth, marbled floor and a great throng whose silent
eyes looked curiously upon her. Strange carven beasts gazed on from a setting of rich,
barbaric splendor and she herself—the Liar—lay in rags before the gold and ivory of that
lofty throne whereon sat Zora.
The foolish phantasy passed with the second of time that brought it, and Mrs.
Vanderpool's eyes dropped again to her paper, to those lines,—
"The President has sent the following nominations to the Senate ... To be ambassador to
France, John Vanderpool, Esq."
The first feeling of triumph thrilled faintly again until the low voice of Zora startled her.
It was so low and calm, it came as though journeying from great distances and weary
"I used to think a lie a little thing, a convenience; but now I see. It is a great No and it
kills things. You remember that day when Mr. Easterly called?"
"Yes," replied Mrs. Vanderpool, faintly.
"I heard all he said. I could not help it; my transom was open. And then, too, after he
mentioned—Mr. Alwyn's name, I wanted to hear. I knew that his appointment would cost
you the embassy—unless Bles was tempted and should fall. So I came to you to say—to
say you mustn't pay the price."
"And I lied," said Mrs. Vanderpool. "I told you that he should be appointed and remain a
man. I meant to make him see that he could yield without great cost. But I let you think I
was giving up the embassy when I never intended to."
She spoke coldly, yet Zora knew. She reached out and took the white, still hands in hers,
and over the lady's face again flitted that stricken look of age.
"I do not blame you," said Zora gently. "I blame the world."