And he humored her whim, for he had always understood her child's ways.
The woods had trained him to note the details of all he saw; his
experiences had been fresh and stirring, and he told his story with
zest.

Then he came to his mention of Madeleine Presson. "Her father is the
State chairman--the man you saw at 'The Barracks.' I was at their house
a few times. Her mother--"

"But about her! You are skipping again, Big Boy."

"There is not much about her," he said, stammering a bit. "I saw her
here and there, and talked with her, that's all."

"But I'm seeing with your eyes and hearing with your ears as I go along
with you," she insisted. "I want to know how other girls are in the
world outside. I have been waiting to have some one tell me. You saw
her, you heard her. Begin, Harlan: her looks, her clothes, her manners,
what she said, what she talks about. I have only you to ask."

His self-consciousness left him after he began. He drew his word-picture
as best he could.

"That makes her beautiful," she said, when he paused, searching his mind
for some word of description. "I think I can see her with your eyes, Big
Boy. Tell me what she knows; and how does she talk?"

In the dusk he could not see the expression on her face. He knew that
she listened intently, leaning above him. He was not conscious that he
praised Madeleine Presson's gifts of mind or person. But as he had found
her, so he portrayed her to the isolated girl of the north country,
describing her attainments, her culture, her breadth of view, her grasp
of the questions of the day, her ability to understand the big matters
in which men were interested.

She made no comment as he talked. She did not interrupt him when he had
finished with Madeleine Presson and went on to relate how he had been
forced into the forefront of the State's political situation.

"So, then, you have become a great man," she faltered. "I remember. I
was selfish. I did not want you to go away."

"No, I am not a great man, little Clare," he protested, laughingly. "I'm
only a little chap that a great man is using. And you were not selfish.
It was you that first put the thought into my mind that I ought to use
my opportunities. That night at the end of the bridge, you know! I was
sullen and obstinate. But you talked to me like a wise little woman. All
the time I was with my grandfather later that evening, trying to be
angry with him, I kept remembering your advice."

"I l