occasion for uproarious
fun. His orders partly sobered him.

"Go to your uncle," said Sullivan, "and tell him he's not in the race. I
don't know where he got that bee in his bonnet. Then arrange with
Everard to call on Livingstone. Do what you can to straighten the Mayor
out. He ought to be the candidate."

This dealing with men inspired him. Hitherto he had been playing with
children in the garden of life; now he stood with the fighters in the
terrible arena. And his first task was to extinguish the roseate dreams
of Anne and her gladiator, to destroy that exquisite fabric woven of
moonlit seas, enchanting dinners, and Parisian millinery. Never! Let
the chief commit that sacrilege! He would not say the word whose
utterance might wound the hearts that loved him. The Senator and Anne
should have a clear field. High time for the very respectable citizens
of the metropolis to secure a novelty for mayor, to get a taste of Roman
liberty, when a distinguished member of the arena could wear the purple
if he had the mind.

Birmingham forced him to change his attitude. The man of money was both
good-hearted and large-minded, and had departed from the ways of
commerce to seek distinction in politics. Stolid, without enthusiasm or
dash, he could be stubbornly great in defence of principle. Success and
a few millions had not changed his early theories of life. Pride in his
race, delight in his religion, devotion to his party, increased in him
as he rose to honor and fame. Arthur Dillon felt still more the
seriousness of the position when this man came to ask his aid in
securing the nomination.

"There never was a time in the history of the city," said Birmingham,
"when a Catholic had such a chance to become mayor as now. Protestants
would not have him, if he were a saint. But prejudice has abated, and
confidence in us has increased since the war. Sullivan can have the
position if he wants it. So can many others. All of them can afford to
wait, while I cannot. I am not a politician, only a candidate. At any
moment, by the merest accident, I may become one of the impossibles. I
am anxious, therefore, to secure the nomination this year. I would like
to get your influence. Where the balance is often turned by the weight
of a hair one cannot be too alert."

"Do you think I have influence?" said Arthur humbly.

"You are the secretary," Birmingham answered, surprised.

"I shall have to use it in behalf of my uncle then."

"And