ted Gertrude. "Don't you feel well?"

Still Mrs. Dott did not seem to understand. She tried to smile, but the
vague uncertainty of the smile caused even Annette, who had been deep in
discussion of a plan for securing the vote of a still doubtful member,
to cease speaking and regard her guest with surprise.

"What is it, Mother?" urged Gertrude. "You look so strange. Are you
ill?"

Serena gazed at her for a moment, rose, stood looking about in the same
hesitating, uncertain manner, and then, throwing her arms about her
daughter's neck, burst into hysterical sobs.

The alarmed guests clustered about them, asking questions, exclaiming,
and offering suggestions.

"What IS it?" demanded Annette. "My DEAR! What IS it?"

Serena, still clinging to Gertrude, continued to sob.

"I--I don't know," she moaned. "I--I feel so strange. I'm--I'm tired,
I guess. I'm--I'm worn out. I--oh, Gertie, take me home. Take me
home--please."

"Yes, yes, Mother, dear. We will go home at once. Come."

She led her into the next room. Annette, hastening with a glass of wine
and the smelling salts, caught the young lady's arm.

"She isn't going to be ill, seriously sick, is she?" she demanded. "You
don't think she is. It would be dreadful if she was."

Gertrude shook her head.

"I don't know," she answered. "I certainly hope not. Will you call a
carriage, Mrs. Black?"

"Yes, yes, I'll call one right away. Oh, I hope she isn't going to be
sick. It would be dreadful--just now. The election is only two weeks
off, and without her I--we should be almost certain to lose. I know we
should. Oh, Serena, DEAR! you WON'T be sick, will you? for my sake!"

It did not seem to occur to the agitated Annette that her friend might
not care to be ill, for her own sake. But it was evident that Gertrude
was thinking just that. The young lady's tone was sharp and decidedly
cold.

"She is tired out," she said. "She has worn herself out working for
her--for her friends, Mrs. Black. Will you call the carriage?"

"Yes, yes. They are calling it now. I'm so sorry the chauffeur--or--or
Phelps--is out. If he--if they were not you could use our car. But, oh,
Serena--"

Serena looked up. She was calmer now, she had heard, and loyally she
answered.

"Don't worry, Annette," she said. "I am not going to be sick. I won't.
You can depend on me. Oh, Gertie, I'm SO tired! My poor head!"

The carriage came and she and Gertrude were driven home. Annette did not
offer