hey want?"

"Does anybody know what they want--except when they want money?"

"Well, some of them would like Father to go to the Senate," she returned
naively, "and some of them wouldn't. Do you think that Mr. Benham would
be better in the Senate?"

"I think so, of course. But you mustn't judge, you know, by what my
thoughts happen to be."

"I'm not judging. I hate politics. I always have. I want to get as far
away from them as I can."

He looked at her intently. "And where would you like to go?"

"Into the movies." Her eyes sparkled at the thought. "At least I wanted
to go into the movies until I saw Mrs. Page this afternoon."

"Mrs. Kent Page?" he asked in astonishment. "My Cousin Corinna?"

"Yes, in the old print shop. Isn't she adorable?"

He smiled at her fervour. "I have always found her so. But what has she
to do with your change of ambition?"

"Oh, nothing, except that she is lovelier than any actress I ever saw."

They had reached the house, and while they ascended the steps, the sound
of the Governor's voice, raised in vehement protest, floated to them
through the half-open door.

"He must be talking to Julius Gershom," whispered Patty. "It is always
like that."

"I don't care a damn for the whole bunch of you," said Vetch suddenly.
"You can go and tell that to the crowd!"

"Well, I'll come back again after I've told them," Gershom replied in an
insolent tone; and the next moment the door swung back and he appeared
on the threshold.

At sight of Patty and Stephen he attempted to cover his embarrassment
with a jest. "Your father and I were having one of our little arguments
about a Ladies' Aid Society," he said. "He is beginning to kick against
too much ice cream."

"Well, if you argue as loud as that," replied the girl with
imperturbable coolness, "it won't be necessary to go and tell it to the
crowd."

In an instant she had changed from the sparkling elusive creature
Stephen had known into a woman of authority and composure. What an
eternal enigma was the feminine mind! He had flattered himself that he
had reached the end of her superficial attractions; and in a minute, by
some startling metamorphosis, she was changed from a being of
transparent shallows into the immemorial riddle of sex. She might be
anything, or everything, except the ingenuous girl of the moment before.

"We must learn to lower our voices," said the Governor in a laughing
tone. His anger, if it were anger, had blown