ttered through the hour, the
rain after the thunder-storm. Then, unexpectedly, Mrs. Hardy made her
little speech. It was an excellent little speech, good-natured, full of
sense, and with a dash of humor. At first, she was a little nervous, but
she was too interested in her subject to be nervous more than an
instant. Had she known of the presence of two auditors in the gallery,
perhaps her composure had wavered. There could be no doubt regarding
their agitation. They turned pale and clutched each other; then, first
on Darrie's, next on his father's features, dawned and spread a light of
exceeding confidence; with shameless effrontery--considering their
relationship--they stimulated the applause; they beamed over the hits;
and at the close they were radiant. Without a word Darius held out his
hand to his son, who wrung it. Then, they both took a long, long breath
of relief and satisfaction. Darius was the first to speak: "My son,"
said he, "I have known your mother for forty years and have been her
husband for thirty-three, but she can surprise me still!"

"Mother certainly _is_ great," assented Darrie, solemnly; he added his
own little feather of marital triumph: "Hetty always told me so," said
he.

"Look at those women all around her," said Darius, "patting her on the
shoulder and whispering; _they_ know. Darrie, I'll bet you anything,
there hasn't been another speech in this convention that has put things
as clearly as mother's."

* * * * *

Myrtle started when she saw her husband and son smiling in the doorway.
Her daughter-in-law was on one side, her daughter on the other, half a
dozen of her delegation radiated complacency in her wake. "Hasn't she
covered us with glory?" one of the followers called, gleefully to
another. And a little din of compliments fell upon Darius' ears. It is
pleasant to reflect that all over the hall similar groups were exulting
unselfishly over their own prowess and their own heroines. Little did
Darius Hardy concern himself with them. He took his wife under his arm
with a proud and blissful smile. He waved a direction at Darrie: "You
take the girls, Darrie, you'll find a cab, somewhere; I want your mother
to myself. Now, Myrtle, if sated vanity can demand any more, I'll give
it to you in the carriage!"

A few minutes later, she was gazing, through a happy mist, at the gems
on her heart-shaped locket, murmuring: "And I thought you had forgotten
the day. A