ll, understood perfectly.

Presently Sylvia, keeping herself well into the background, showed
Harley into the parlor, and he paid his respects to Mrs. Grayson, who
was sincerely glad to see him again. She looked upon him now as one of
the family. "King" Plummer came before long, and by-and-by he and Harley
went into the town to seek political news. "But I'll be back soon," he
said to Sylvia.

"And I'll be at the door when you come," she said to him.

They did not spend more than an hour in the town, and when they returned
the other correspondents were with them. The day had not improved, the
lowering clouds still stalked across the horizon, and the wind came cold
and sharp out of the northwest.

"I've had a telegram from New York saying that a great vote is being
polled," said Hobart, "and I've no doubt it's the case throughout the
East. Yet Jimmy Grayson is bound to sit at home helpless while all this
great battle is going on."

"He has done his work already," said Harley; "and now it is the rank and
file who count."

There was no sign of gloom at the Grayson home. The candidate,
refreshed, and with his half-dozen young children around him, was
unfeignedly happy, while Mrs. Grayson, hovering near her husband, who
had been practically lost to her for, lo! these many months, showed the
same joy and relief. She received the group with genuine warmth--her
husband's friends were hers--and bade them make the house their home
until the fight was over. Sylvia greeted them as old comrades, which, in
fact, they were. A room with tables for writing was already set apart
for their use.

The children were in holiday attire and thrilled by excitement; they
could not be suppressed. They were well aware what it was to be
President of the United States, and they failed to understand how any
one could vote against their father. "If he is beaten," thought Harley,
"it is not Mr. Grayson nor Mrs. Grayson who will feel the most
disappointment, but these little children."

Neither the candidate nor his wife alluded to the Presidential race,
seeming to enjoy this short respite after the long strain and before the
crucial trial yet to come. They talked of the small affairs of the home,
and she gave the news of their neighbors, as if they would make the most
of this brief hour; yet it was not wholly natural, there was in it a
note of suspense, and Harley knew that, despite the joy of reunion, the
shadow of the coming night was already