dn't be a bit surprised," I allowed.

"Well, then, of course you'll see her," he brought out.

"Well, I might. It's possible. I shall see the parade, I hope. They say
they're rather impressive."

"She's well?" asked Bob.

"She writes so," I told him briefly.

"And happy?"

"She seems so."

"What should you think of the idea of my seeing that parade, too?" he
asked a little later.

"I shouldn't think very well of it, Bob."

"Should I be in the way?" he smiled, "interrupt yours and Will's
_tete-a-tete_?"

"Oh, no, of course not. But--O Bob," I broke off, "why keep on thinking
about Ruth? I wish you wouldn't. Life has such a lot else in it." He
colored a little at my frankness. "Oh, I know you don't want me to talk
about it, but I can't help it. You knew her such a little while,
scarcely six months in all, and besides she wasn't suited to you. I see
it now myself. She's stark mad about all these suffrage things. You
wouldn't have been happy. She's full of theories now. I wish you'd drop
all thought of her and go about the next thing. I'm sure Ruth is going
about the next thing. _You_ ought to."

"Nevertheless," he said, "should I be in the way?"

Of course he went. I could see his mind was made up in spite of what I
might say. The three of us--Robert Jennings and Will and I--stood for
two hours on the edge of a curbing in New York City waiting for Ruth to
walk up Fifth Avenue.

We were a merry little party. A spark of Robert's old fun seemed to have
stolen into his eyes, a little of the old crispness into his voice.

"They're going to walk several abreast," he explained. "It will be hard
work finding her in such a crowd. She might get by. So this is my plan.
I'll take as my responsibility the rows farthest over, you take the
middle, Will, and Lucy, you look out for those nearest the curb. See?
Now between the three of us we'll see her. Hello! I believe they're
coming!"

I looked down Fifth Avenue, lined with a black ribbon of people on each
side. It was free from traffic. Clear and uninterrupted lay the way for
this peculiar demonstration. I saw in the distance a flag approaching. I
heard the stirring strains of a band.

Ruth was very near the front of the parade. One band had passed us and
disappeared into dimness and Ruth preceded the second one.

It was a lovely sunny day, with a stiff sharp breeze that made militant
every flag that moved. Ruth wore no slogan of any sort. She carried one
symbol on