stopped again and laid a
restraining hand on her arm.

"He thinks a great deal of you too."

She shook his hand from her sleeve. "Why shouldn't he? I am his only
child." Then her voice hardened, and she glanced at him suspiciously. "I
wish for once you would try to be honest."

"Honest?" His amusement was perfectly sincere. "I am as honest as the
day, and I've always been. That's why I'm in politics."

"Then tell me what you are trying to say about Father. If there's
anything wrong, I'd rather be told at once."

They were still standing on the deserted corner below the garden, and
while she waited for his answer, she glanced away from him up the side
street, which rose in a steep ascent from the business quarter of the
town. The sun was still high over the distant housetops and the light
turned the brick pavement to a rich red and shot the clouds of gray dust
with silver. The neighbourhood was one which had seen better days, and
some well-built old houses, with red walls and white porches, lent an
air of hospitality and comfortable living to the numerous cheap boarding
places that filled the street. Crowds of children were playing games or
skating on roller skates over the sidewalk; and on the porches a few
listless women gossiped idly; or gazed out over newspapers which they
did not read.

"Well, there ain't anything wrong exactly--yet," replied Gershom.

"But there may be, you think?"

"That depends upon him. If he keeps headed the way he's going, and he's
as stubborn as a mule, there'll be trouble as sure as my name is
Julius."

"Is that what you've quarrelled about of late--the way he's going?"

"Bless your heart, honey, we ain't quarrelled! Has it sounded like that
to you? I've just been trying to make him see reason, that's all. He
ain't got a right, you know, to turn against his best friends the way
he's doing. Friends are friends whether you are in office or out, and
there's a lot that a man owes to the folks that have stood by him. I
tell you I know politics from the bottom up, and there ain't no room in
'em for the man--I don't give a darn who he is--that don't stand by his
friends. If he's the President of the United States, he'll find that he
can't afford not to stand by the people who put him there!"

So this was the trouble! He had let out his grievance at last, and from
the smouldering resentment in his eyes, she understood that some real
or imaginary injustice had put him, for the moment at