Part 32 (2/2)
”Never mind,” said Miss De Voe. ”Were you pleased with the nomination and election of Catlin?”
”I was pleased at the election, but I should have preferred Porter.”
”I thought you tried to prevent Porter's nomination?”
”That's what the papers said, but they didn't understand.”
”I wasn't thinking of the papers. You know I heard your speech in the convention.”
”A great many people seem to have misunderstood me. I tried to make it clear.”
”Did you intend that the convention should laugh?”
”No. That surprised and grieved me very much!”
Miss De Voe gathered from this and from what the papers had said that it must be a mortifying subject to Peter, and knew that she ought to discontinue it. But she could not help saying, ”Why?”
”It's difficult to explain, I'm afraid. I had a feeling that a man was trying to do wrong, but I hoped that I was mistaken. It seemed to me that circ.u.mstances compelled me to tell the convention all about it, but I was very careful not to hint at my suspicion. Yet the moment I told them they laughed.”
”Why?”
”Because they felt sure that the man had done wrong.”
”Oh!” It was a small exclamation, but the expression Miss De Voe put into it gave it a big meaning. ”Then they were laughing at Maguire?”
”At the time they were. Really, though, they were laughing at human weakness. Most people seem to find that amusing.”
”And that is why you were grieved?”
”Yes.”
”But why did the papers treat you so badly?”
”Mr. Costell tells me that I told too much truth for people to understand. I ought to have said nothing, or charged a bargain right out, for then they would have understood. A friend of--a fellow I used to know, said I was the best chap for bungling he ever knew, and I'm afraid it's true.”
”Do you know Costell? I thought he was such a dishonest politician?”
”I know Mr. Costell. I haven't met the dishonest politician yet.”
”You mean?”
”He hasn't shown me the side the papers talk about.”
”And when he does?”
”I shall be very sorry, for I like him, and I like his wife.” Then Peter told about the little woman who hated politics and loved flowers, and about the cool, able manager of men, who could not restrain himself from putting his arms about the necks of his favorite horses, and who had told about the death of one of his mares with tears in his eyes. ”He had his cheek cut open by a kick from one of his horses once, and he speaks of it just as we would speak of some unintentional fault of a child.”
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