tinued.

"Marry, eh," exclaimed the father. "Is that it?"

"Yes," said the Senator, "marry, that is exactly it. Your daughter
is eighteen years of age and can decide for herself. You have insulted
me and outraged your daughter's feelings. Now, I wish you to know that
it cannot stop here. If you have any cause to say anything against me
outside of mere hearsay I wish you to say it."

The Senator stood before him, a very citadel of righteousness. He
was neither loud-voiced nor angry-mannered, but there was a tightness
about his lips which bespoke the man of force and determination.

"I don't want to talk to you any more," returned Gerhardt, who was
checked but not overawed. "My daughter is my daughter. I am the one
who will say whether she shall go out at night, or whether she shall
marry you, either. I know what you politicians are. When I first met
you I thought you were a fine man, but now, since I see the way you
conduct yourself with my daughter, I don't want anything more to do
with you. Just you go and stay away from here. That's all I ask of
you."

"I am sorry, Mrs. Gerhardt," said Brander, turning deliberately
away from the angry father, "to have had such an argument in your
home. I had no idea that your husband was opposed to my visits.
However, I will leave the matter as it stands for the present. You
must not take all this as badly as it seems."

Gerhardt looked on in astonishment at his coolness.

"I will go now," he said, again addressing Gerhardt, "but you
mustn't think that I am leaving this matter for good. You have made a
serious mistake this evening. I hope you will realize that. I bid you
goodnight." He bowed slightly and went out.

Gerhardt closed the door firmly. "Now," he said, turning to his
daughter and wife, "we will see whether we are rid of him or not. I
will show you how to go after night upon the streets when everybody is
talking already."

In so far as words were concerned, the argument ceased, but looks
and feeling ran strong and deep, and for days thereafter scarcely a
word was spoken in the little cottage. Gerhardt began to brood over
the fact that he had accepted his place from the Senator and decided
to give it up. He made it known that no more of the Senator's washing
was to be done in their house, and if he had not been sure that Mrs.
Gerhardt's hotel work was due to her own efforts in finding it he
would have stopped that. No good would come out of it, anyway. If she
had