said Uncle John, standing at the window with his
hands deep in his pockets; "and an important game. Every good American
should take an interest in politics; and Kenneth, especially, who has
such large landed interests, ought to direct the political affairs of
his district."

"I'm much interested in politics, too, Uncle," declared the girl. "If I
were a man I'd--I'd--be President!"

"An' I'd vote fer ye twenty times a day, mavourneen!" cried the Major.
"But luckily ye'll be no president--unless it's of a woman's club."

"There's the bell!" cried Patsy. "It must be the girls. No one else
would call so early."

"It's Beth's voice, talking to Nora," added her father, listening; and
then the door flew open and in came two girls whose bright and eager
faces might well warrant the warm welcome they received.

"Oh, Louise," cried Patsy, "however did you get up so early?"

"I've got a letter from Kenneth," was the answer, "and I'm so excited I
couldn't wait a minute!"

"Imagine Louise being excited," said Beth, calmly, as she kissed Uncle
John and sat down by Patsy's side. "She read her letter in bed and
bounced out of bed like a cannon-ball. We dressed like the 'lightning
change' artist at the vaudeville, and I'm sure our hats are not on
straight."

"This bids fair to be a strenuous day," observed the Major. "Patsy's had
a letter from the boy, herself."

"Oh, did you?" inquired Louise; "and do you know all about it, dear?"

"She knows sixty pages about it," replied Major Doyle.

"Well, then, what's to be done?"

The question was addressed to Patsy, who was not prepared to reply. The
three cousins first exchanged inquiring glances and then turned their
eager eyes upon the broad chubby back of Uncle John, who maintained his
position at the window as if determined to shut out the morning
sunlight.

Louise Merrick lived with her mother a few blocks away from Patsy's
apartment, and her cousin Beth DeGraf was staying with her for a time.
They had all spent the summer with Uncle John at Millville, and had only
returned to New York a few days before. Beth's home was in Ohio, but
there was so little sympathy between the girl and her parents that she
was happy only when away from them. Her mother was Uncle John's sister,
but as selfish and cold as Uncle John was generous and genial. Beth's
father was a "genius" and a professor of music--one of those geniuses
who live only in their own atmosphere and forget there is a worl