questioned. Mr. Crewe has rare courage--I have always said so. And we are
all going to put our shoulder to the wheel, and help him all we can."

There was one clever man there who was quick to see his opportunity, and
seize it for his newspaper.

"And are you going to help Mr. Crewe in his campaign, Mrs. Pomfret?"

"Most assuredly," answered Mrs. Pomfret. "Women in this country could do
so much if they only would. You know," she added, in her most winning
manner, "you know that a woman can often get a vote when a man can't."

"And you, and--other ladies will go around to the public meetings?"

"Why not, my friend; if Mr. Crewe has no objection? and I can conceive of
none."

"You would have an organization of society ladies to help Mr. Crewe?"

"That's rather a crude way of putting it," answered Mrs. Pomfret, with
her glasses raised judicially. "Women in what you call I society are, I
am glad to say, taking an increasing interest in politics. They are
beginning to realize that it is a duty."

"Thank you," said the reporter; "and now would you mind if I took a
photograph of you in your carriage."

"Oh, mother," protested Alice, "you won't let him do that!"

"Be quiet, Alice. Lady Aylestone and the duchess are photographed in
every conceivable pose for political purposes. Wymans, just drive around
to the other side of the circle."

The article appeared next day, and gave, as may be imagined, a tremendous
impetus to Mr. Crewe's cause. "A new era in American politics!" "Society
to take a hand in the gubernatorial campaign of Millionaire Humphrey
Crewe!" "Noted social leader, Mrs. Patterson Pomfret, declares it a duty,
and saga that English women have the right idea." And a photograph of
Mrs. Patterson Pomfret herself, in her victoria, occupied a generous
portion of the front page.

"What's all this rubbish about Mrs. Pomfret?" was Mr. Crewe's grateful
comment when he saw it. "I spent two valuable hours with that reporter
givin' him material and statistics, and I can't find that he's used a
word of it."

"Never you mind about that," Mr. Tooting replied. "The more advertising
you get, the better, and this shows that the right people are behind you.
Mrs. Pomfret's a smart woman, all right. She knows her job. And here's
more advertising," he continued, shoving another sheet across the desk,
"a fine likeness of you in caricature labelled, 'Ajax defying the
Lightning.' Who's Ajax? There was an Italian, a street contr