eusen's. Get acquainted with her and listen to her sane talk
and clear views; and then I am sure you'll come out on the right side."

"I'm on the right side now, Bailey," returned Jack, "and on the right
track. It's too late to call on Miss Van Deusen."

"Why, too late?" asked Armstrong.

"Because I've already consented to accept the nomination of the
Republican party," said Allingham. "I shall be her opposing candidate
and I mean to beat her."

"Not by all the shades of the great Agamemnon!" exclaimed Bailey. "I'll
turn every stick and stone in Roma to defeat you. Jack, I wouldn't have
believed it of you!"

"Nor I of myself," returned Allingham coolly. "If you hadn't put up a
woman I'd never have consented, Bailey, old fellow. But a woman's place
is at home--she is too delicate for public office."

"O, bother the woman's place," returned Armstrong, rising to go. "The
modern woman's place is where she is needed most, where she can do the
most good, whether it is sewing on your buttons or ruling your city.
Good-bye; reckon on sure defeat next January, Jack, or I'm no guesser;"
and he slammed the door behind him as he hurried away.

He went straight to Van Deusen Hall and called for Gertrude. She was at
the moment sewing on buttons for herself, but soon descended, smiling,
to greet him. As he looked at her coming down the stairway, Bailey
thought of the great calm of a starry night in the country. Some women
always bring the sense of freshness and repose and brooding peace when
they enter a room.

"You've got some news for me?" she said, giving him her hand.

"How do you know?" he asked.

"I see it in your face," was the reply. "You have news--something that
disquiets you."

"Yes, I have," said Armstrong. "I may as well tell it at once. Jack
Allingham is entering the lists against you. He will be the Republican
candidate."

She smiled. "I am not surprised. He considers it his duty, since a woman
presumes to occupy the mayor's chair. I have met his mother several
times, and his aunts. He is an only child and has been brought up to
believe in all the old-time theories. I presume he knows no really fine
up-to-date woman."

"No, he doesn't," replied Bailey. "He is one of the most conscientious
and best fellows I ever knew, but he has been spoiled by his women-folk.
I think he believes that a man is really a much superior being: that
woman is only a weak imitation of God's noblest work. It's the doting
aunt an