imself together after a
disconcerting bodily shock such as he had not encountered since their
old school days when he had done "everything--and told of it ". He had
counted on her sympathy over his defeat, and chosen that moment to make
his incredible plea.

"Did you do what you had forgotten?" Amabel asked.

"Yes," said Jeff glibly. "I did it quite easily. I've come to tell you
the news. Perhaps you know it already. Alston Choate's elected."

"Yes," said Miss Amabel, in a stately manner. "I had just heard it."

"I'm going round there," said Jeff, "to congratulate his mother. It's
her campaign, you know. He never'd have run if it hadn't been for her."

"I didn't know Mrs. Choate had any such interest in local affairs," said
Amabel.

She was aware Jeff was smoothing her down, ruffled feather after
feather, and she was pathetically grateful. If she hadn't kept a strong
grip on herself, her lip would have been quivering still.

"In a way she's not. She doesn't care about Addington as we do, but she
hates to see old traditions go to the dogs. I've an idea she'll stand
behind Alston and really run the show. Put on your bonnet and come with
me. It's a shame to stay in the house a night like this."

She still knew his purpose and acquiesced in it. He hated to leave her
to solitary thoughts of the indignity Moore had offered her, and also
she hated to be left. She put on her thick cloak and her bonnet--there
were no assumptions with Miss Amabel that she wasn't over sixty--and
they went forth. But Mrs. Choate was not at home, nor was Mary. The maid
thought they had gone down town for the return. Jeff told her Mr. Choate
was to be mayor--no one in Addington seemed to pay much attention to the
rest of the ticket that year--and she returned quite prosaically, "God
save us!"

"Save us from Alston?" asked Jeff, as they went away, and Miss Amabel
forgot Moore and laughed.

They went on down town with the purpose of seeing life, as Jeff said,
and got into a surge of shiny-eyed Mill Enders who looked to Jeff as if
they were commiserating him although it was his candidate that won.
Andrea, indeed, in the moment of their meeting and parting almost wept
over him. And face to face they met Lydia.

"I've lost Farvie," she said, "and Anne. Can't I come with you?"

So they went on together, Lydia much excited and Miss Amabel puzzled, in
her wistful way, at finding social Addington and working Addington
shoulder to shoulder in the