"No, it isn't," she admitted. "But if you must have the truth, I'll go farther and say, the innovation of trying a woman for mayor was an experiment. The new broom has swept clean, and people are pleased so far. But the natural and right way of cities is to have a man at the helm. Between you and me, it is the fore-ordained method of nature to keep the man at the head of things, to take the brunt, to face the danger. Say what you will, the woman was not meant for this kind of thing. As we go on with our municipal life the realization of this is going to grow upon the people. While they are fully appreciative of all I have tried to do, there will develop the old desire for a man at the helm--and then comes discontent. Indeed, I can already see signs of it. You are the right man for the place. I shall always be thankful for the experience I have had; but I want no more." She smiled up at him. "I am more than content to pass it along,--not alone because the burden is heavy, and I am growing selfish,--but because you are the right man for mayor of Roma." "Then if it is your wish," Allingham replied, "I will consent." He rose to go. "If only we might stand at the head together," he said. "With you to give a man courage--" Gertrude interrupted him. "We should not be in accord. We could never agree. Don't talk about it." She rang the bell for the stenographer, and Allingham turned to go. "May I say," she added, relenting at the expression on his face, "that you have done splendid work in your department? You have achieved the wonderful feat of improving our streets and keeping expenses down at the same time." "That was not difficult," he answered, "where the opposite had been the practice for so long. I'm going down now to inspect that street we are laying out just back of your place. I'm sorry there had to be blasting." "The street will be all the more picturesque when it's done," she replied. "Good afternoon, and thank you, for what you promised." "O, I wonder if I can hold out," she said to herself as he went out. "If he had said another word, I should have given in,--but he didn't." Still, that he would say it some other time, she knew. Then she would have to say yes. CHAPTER XXVII A Heart's Awakening There were the afternoon letters to dictate, which took her nearly an hour; and there were callers who kept her in the office until nearly five o'clock. When they had all left she sat for a moment, resting and reviewing the events of the day.