is case," he answered with
an echo of the laugh.

But even under the laugh I saw signs of excitement in his deep eyes and
his long, lean hands shook as they handed me his cup to pour the coffee.
Jasper had laid his silver and napkin in front of him and retired to
admonish Petunia as to the exact crispness of her first waffle.

"What is it?" I asked breathlessly, as I moved the coffee pot from
between us to the other side.

"Just a letter that came to me from the Democratic Headquarters in the
City, that shook me up a bit and made me want to--to tell _you_ about
it. Nobody else can know--I have been out on Old Harpeth all afternoon
fighting that out, and telling you is the only thing I have allowed
myself."

"They want you to be the next Governor," I said quickly. "And you will
be, too," I added, again using that queer place in my brain that seems
to know perfectly unknowable things and that only works in matters that
concern him.

"No!"

"Yes, Your Excellency," I hurled at him defiantly.

"You witch, you," he answered me with a pleased, teasing whimsicality
coming into his eyes. "Of course, you guessed the letter and it was dear
to have you do it, but we both know it is impossible. Nobody must hear
of it, and the telling you has been the best I could get out of it
anyway. Jasper, take my compliments to Petunia, this chicken is
perfection!"

That eighth wonder of the world which got lost was something even more
mysterious than the Sphinx. It was a marvel that could have been used
for women to compare men to. That man sat right there at my side and
ate four waffles, two large pieces of chicken and a liver-wing, drank
two cups of coffee, and then devoured a huge bowl of peaches and cream,
with three muffin-cakes, while enduring the tragedy of the realization
of having to decline the Governorship of his State.

I watched him do it, first in awe and then with a dim understanding of
something, I wasn't sure what. Most women, under the circumstances,
would have gone to bed and cried it out or at least have refused food
for hours. We've got to get over those habits before we get to the point
of having to refuse to be Governors of the States and railroad
presidents and things like that.

And while he ate, there I sat not able to more than nibble because I was
making up my mind to do something that scared me to death to think
about. That gaunt, craggy man in a shabby gray coat, cut ante-bellum
wise, with a cravat th