But the new mayor paid no attention to her cousin and went on calmly planning for the future of Roma, visiting its various institutions and getting as thorough an insight into its public administration as possible before taking her place in the mayor's chair. She visited the schools, the hospitals, the police stations, the jail. She was overwhelmed with the magnitude of what she had undertaken, but already dreamed of a new and beautiful development of the city. She consulted with the leading business men,--judges, lawyers, and the clergy. She began to evolve ideas of her own and thanked Heaven every night that she had been endowed with courage and will-power sufficient to keep her from turning back from her municipal plough in a panic,--courage enough to keep her head high and her aim straight in the path that lay in front of her. She began to draw near the people, to feel a personal interest in them, to realize the great brotherhood of humanity, and to wonder how best she might hope to apply the highest social ideals to the everyday life of her city. Did any man ever take possession of the mayoral chair with purer hopes or more worthy ambitions? In the meantime every mail brought her letters more or less congratulatory in tone. Some predicted a glorious career ahead for her; some half concealed their disbelief in her ability to fulfill the duties she was to assume; some openly warned her of the perils of weakness and demagogue government, or advised her against the institution of radical reforms. Socially, she was more in demand than before. Dinners and receptions demanded her presence as chief guest, while her newly acquired gift of speech-making was called into requisition on all sorts of occasions. But the finest social affair of all was the dinner given in her honor by the "Progressive Workers," on the night before her inauguration. To this were invited all the notable men and women of Roma, the mayors of the neighboring cities and the governor of the State, who really attended, supported by a galaxy of uniformed officers which lent brilliancy by their glittering stars and bars, if not by their wit and intellect. Gertrude, arrayed in her finest Paris gown,--a white embroidered crepon with garniture of exquisite lace,--received the guests at six o'clock, in line with the governor and the mayors of six other cities, together with Mrs. Bateman as president of the "P. W.'s", and Judge Bateman of the City Reform Club. John Allingham had been invited, too, to stand in line, as the head of the Municipal League, but until the last moment no answer was received from him.