Part 12 (2/2)
Refusing to see Colonel Jaynes, or to answer the Colonel's letter, George curtly telephoned the editor of the _Sentinel_, and walked home at four o'clock, his cheeks still burning, his mind in a whirl. Big issues should have been absorbing him: and his mind was pestered instead with these midges of the despised cause. Well, it was all in the day's work--
And here was his sweet, devoted wife, fluttering across the hall, as cool as a rose, in her pink and white. And she had packed his things, in case they wanted to spend the night at Sea Light, and the ”cats” had gone off for library books, and he must have some ginger-ale, before it was time to go for Betty and Penny.
The day was perfection. The motor-car purred like a racing tiger under George's gloved hand. Betty and Penny were waiting, and the three young persons forgot all differences, and laughed and chatted in the old happy way, as they prepared for the start. But Betty was carrying a book: _Catherine of Russia_.
”Do you know why suffragists should make an especial study of queens, George?” she asked, as she and Penny settled themselves on the back seat.
”Well, I'll be interlocutor,” George smiled, glancing up at the house, from which his wife might issue at any moment. ”Why should suffragists read the lives of queens, Miss Bones?”
”Because queens are absolutely the only women in all history who had equal rights!” Betty answered impa.s.sively. ”Do you realize that? The only women whose moral and social and political instincts had full sway!”
”And a sweet use they made of them, sometimes!” said George.
”And who were the great rulers,” pursued Betty. ”Whose name in English history is like the names of Elizabeth and Victoria, or Matilda or Mary, for the matter of that? Who mended and conserved and built up what the kings tore down and wasted? Who made Russia an intellectual power--”
Again Penny had an odd sense of fear. Were women perhaps superior to men, after all!
”I don't think Catherine of Russia is a woman to whom a lady can point with pride,” George said conclusively. Genevieve, who had appeared, shot Betty a triumphant glance as they started. Pudge waved to them from the candy store at the corner.
”There's a new candy store every week!” said Penny, shuddering. ”Heaven help that poor boy; it must be in the blood!”
”Women must always have something sweet to nibble,” George said, leaning back. ”The United States took in two millions last year in gum alone!”
”Men chew gum!” suggested Betty.
”But come now, Betty, be fair!” George said. ”Which s.e.x eats more candy?”
”Well, I suppose women do,” she admitted.
”You count the candy stores, down Main Street,” George went on, ”and ask yourself how it is that these people can pay rents and salaries just on candy,--nothing else. Did you ever think of that?”
”Well, I could vote with a chocolate in my mouth!” Betty muttered mutinously, as the car turned into the afternoon peace of the main thoroughfare.
”You count them on your side, Penny, and I will on mine!” Genevieve suggested. ”All down the street.” ”Well, wait--we've pa.s.sed two!” Penny said excitedly.
”Go on; there's three. That grocery store with candy in the window!”
”Groceries don't count!” objected Betty.
”Oh, they do, too! And drug stores.... Every place that sells candy!”
”Drug stores and groceries and fruit stores only count half a point,”
Betty stipulated. ”Because they sell other things!”
”That's fair enough,” George conceded here, with a nod.
Genevieve and Penny almost fell out of the car in their anxiety not to miss a point, and George quite deliberately lingered on the cross-streets, so that the d.a.m.ning total might be increased.
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