“Well, they’re not anarchists, Jinny!” observed the colonel; “perhaps, you’ve heard of William Penn.” “I’m not quite a fool, David,” she retorted in exasperation. Dr. Cheyney was enjoying himself; he had taken the rocker by the steps and was swaying gently, his broad straw hat on his knee. He took the New York paper out of his pocket and unfolded it. “Perhaps you’d like to read a review of the Cresset speech, madam?” he said amiably; “they’ve got it here, and they speak of Trench as a young lawyer who has suddenly roused a State from apathy.” “Thank you,” said Mrs. Eaton, with overwhelming politeness, “you are too kind. Probably Diana would like to read it.” Diana was rosy with anger, and her eyes sparkled. “Cousin Jinny, I don’t like the man any better than you do!” she declared, “and I detest and loathe that Cresset speech; I’ve breakfasted on it, and dined on it, and supped on it, until--until I hate the name of it!” “Diana,” said Dr. Cheyney, “you’ll need those pink capsules yet!” “I can’t see what you all admire in that man!” protested Mrs. Eaton irritably; “he keeps a shop and he goes to vulgar political meetings; if that isn’t enough, what is?” “Why, the truth is, Jinny, that he’s a real live man,” said the colonel, putting on his spectacles to read the New York version of the Cresset speech. “I prefer a gentleman,” said Mrs. Eaton crushingly. Dr. Cheyney twinkled. “Madam,” he said superbly, “so do I.” Colonel Royall, meanwhile, was following the speech, line by line, with his finger. Half-way down the column, he lowered the paper. “After all, he was advocating the Australian ballot,” he remarked thoughtfully. “He wants to go to the people for the election of senators,” said Dr. Cheyney; “he doesn’t believe in our legislatures when the great corporations are interested. Yes, I suppose he does like the Australian ballot.” “I should think he would,” said Mrs. Eaton promptly; “I’ve always looked upon Australia as a penal settlement.” Dr. Cheyney shook with silent laughter again. “Madam,” he said, “do you think him a possible ticket-of-leave man?” “I am disposed to think anything of a man who can and does support Garnett Yarnall for governor,” she replied frigidly. Dr. Cheyney’s face sobered suddenly, and Colonel Royall rustled the paper uneasily. After all, she had cause; a Yarnall had shot her husband. The two men felt it less keenly than Diana. She rose suddenly and offered her elderly relative her arm. “Cousin Jinny, let’s go and see my new rose stocks,” she said mildly; “they’ve been set out in the south garden.” Mrs. Eaton rose, propitiated, and accepted Diana’s arm, the two moving off together in apparent amity. Dr. Cheyney’s eyes followed them, and then came back to meet the peculiar sadness of Colonel Royall’s. “Do you think she’s--she’s like--” The colonel’s voice trailed; he was looking after Diana. “No,” said Dr. Cheyney sharply, “no, she’s like your mother.”