"Well, for one who is so sharp as to 'see it all along,' I must say you're a little off the mark," answered Bailey. "I've been engaged to Mary Snow ever since the night we found them in the flat, but she's determined not to have it announced until her time is up at City Hall. Gertrude?--yes, she's pure gold. I thought once I loved her, but she was wiser than I. Mary is the only woman in the world for me." Then, seeing the look on his friend's face, he exclaimed: "See here, Jack, what's the matter? I never dreamed it." "Do you believe, Bailey, I stand any show? I confess I"--Allingham stopped; he could not talk about it, even to Armstrong in this hour of confidence. "'A woman-mayor? In Roma? I'm afraid it wouldn't do!'" quoted Bailey, teasingly. "O, quit," answered Allingham. "That was before I knew her--knew anything." "'A woman's place is at home with her husband,'" Bailey went on with a wicked glee. "And that's where I would put her!" retorted Allingham, with spirit. "At least, I'd give her the chance." "Go in, my boy," said Bailey, reaching out his hand to grasp his friend's, "I don't know how she feels--she's not easily won, I know; but try it. Go in and win." That afternoon the opportunity presented itself. Allingham walked home with the Mayor. She usually drove home, but the clear, cool air of the closing autumn day, coming after long hours in office, had tempted her to test her pedestrian powers, and she had left City Hall alone. Allingham, however, appeared at the gates and asked permission to join her. "If you care for a brisk walk of two miles," she answered, genially. "Or even if you give out and desert me on the road, you may begin. O, how good it is to shake off the dust of City Hall and take a bit of good, healthful exercise. Walking is the best way I know to keep the cobwebs from your mental sky, or to restore your tired nerves and overworked brain to normal condition." "I walk five or six miles every morning," answered Allingham. "I believe it's the way God meant human beings to get over the ground." "Yes," she added. "Mother Nature invented walking, while man invented carriages and cars and motors. How are Blatchley and Watts getting on with--but there, I chose to walk just to get away from the cares of office; and here I am bringing them along with me. Let's be just a boy and girl walking home from school together," she added, whimsically. "Or man and woman walking through life together," he amended quickly. She did not answer. The crises of her life did not usually find her so unprepared. They walked a little way in silence; then he spoke again. "I love you, I want you. Won't you walk with me 'still farther on?'"