ys
from the high schools--all the display of military and motley by which
men advertise their importance and their wares.

But the Inauguration is the one great and grand effort. All work stops
for it; all traffic stops for it; all of the policemen in the town
patrol it; half the detectives in the country are imported to protect
it. All of fashion views it from the stands up-town; all of the
underworld gazes at it from the south side of the street down-town.
Packed trains bring the people. And the people are crowded into hotels
and boarding-houses, and into houses where thresholds are never crossed
at any other time by paying guests.

To the inauguration of 1913 was added another element of interest--the
parade of the women, on the day preceding the changing of presidents.
Hence the red and white and blue of former decorations were enlivened
by the yellow and white and purple of the Suffrage colors.

Cousin Patty wore a little knot of yellow ribbon when Porter met her at
the station.

Porter was not inclined to welcome any cousin of Roger Poole's with
open arms. But he knew his duty to Mary's guests. He had offered his
car, and had insisted that Mary should make use of it.

"For Heaven's sake, don't make me utterly miserable by refusing to let
me do anything for you, Mary," he had said, when she had protested.
"It is the only pleasure I have."

Cousin Patty, in spite of Porter's preconceived prejudices, made at
once a place for herself. She gave him her little bag, and with a sigh
of such infinite relief, her eyes like a confiding child's, that he
laughed and bent down to her.

"Mary Ballard is in my car outside. I didn't want her to get into this
crowd."

Cousin Patty shuddered. "Crowd! I've never seen anything like--the
people. I didn't know there were so many in the world. You see, I've
never been far away from home. And they kept pouring in from all the
stations, and when I reached here and stood on the steps of the
Pullman, and saw the masses streaming in ail directions, I felt
faint--but the conductor pointed out the way to go, and then I saw
your--lovely head."

She said it so sincerely that Porter laughed.

"Miss Carew," he said, "I believe you mean it."

"Mean what?"

"That it's a lovely head."

"It is." The dark eyes were shining. "You were so tall that I could
see you above the people, and Roger had described how you would look.
Mary Ballard had said you would surely be here to