at's that?" demanded Cresswell, frowning again.

Senator Smith regarded him again: was Cresswell playing a shrewd game?

"Why," he said at length, "aren't you promoting it?"

"No," was the reply. "Never heard of it."

"But," Senator Smith began, and paused. He turned and took up a circular
issued by the Civic Club, giving a careful account of their endeavors to
amend and pass the Child Labor Bill. Cresswell read it, then threw it
aside.

"Nonsense!" he indignantly repudiated the measure. "That will never do;
it's as bad as the Education Bill."

"But your wife is encouraging it and we thought you were back of it."

Cresswell stared in blank amazement.

"My wife!" he gasped. Then he bethought himself. "It's a mistake," he
supplemented; "Mrs. Cresswell gave them no authority to sign her name."

"She's been very active," Smith persisted, "and naturally we were all
anxious."

Cresswell bit his lip. "I shall speak to her; she does not realize what
use they are making of her passing interest."

He hurried away, and Senator Smith felt a bit sorry for Mrs. Cresswell
when he recalled the expression on her husband's face.

Mary Cresswell did not get home until nearly dinner time; then she came
in glowing with enthusiasm. Her work had received special commendation
that afternoon, and she had been asked to take the chairmanship of the
committee on publicity. Finding that her husband was at home, she
determined to tell him--it was so good to be doing something worth
while. Perhaps, too, he might be made to show some interest. She thought
of Mr. and Mrs. Todd and the old dream glowed faintly again.

Cresswell looked at her as she entered the library where he was waiting
and smoking. She was rumpled and muddy, with flying hair and thick
walking shoes and the air of bustle and vigor which had crept into her
blood this last month. Truly, her cheeks were glowing and her eyes
bright, but he disapproved. Softness and daintiness, silk and lace and
glimmering flesh, belonged to women in his mind, and he despised Amazons
and "business" women. He received her kiss coldly, and Mary's heart
sank. She essayed some gay greeting, but he interrupted her.

"What's this stuff about the Civic Club?" he began sharply.

"Stuff?" she queried, blankly.

"That's what I said."

"I'm sure I don't know," she answered stiffly. "I belong to the Civic
Club, and have been working with it."

"Why didn't you tell me?" His resentment grew as he pr