Mrs. Winthrop came in, smiling and charming as ever. She was very cordial to David, and interested in his campaign, but it seemed to him that she was a little too gracious, as if she wished to impress him with the fact that it was a concession to meet him on an equal social footing. For Mrs. Winthrop was inclined to be of the world, worldly. "You have arrived at an auspicious time," he assured her. "To-night the Democrats will have the biggest parade ever scheduled for this city. Joe calls it the round-up." "Oh, is Joe here?" asked Carey eagerly. "Yes; and another friend of yours, Fletcher Wilder." "I knew that he was here," she said, with an odd little smile. "We had expected to see him in New York, and were surprised to learn he was out here," said Mrs. Winthrop. "He came to help me in my campaign," informed David. "Fletcher interested in politics! How strange!" "His interest is purely personal. We were together in South America, you know." "I am glad that you have a friend in him," said Mrs. Winthrop affably. "The parade will pass here, and Fletcher is coming up, of course. Why not come up, too, if you can spare the time?" "This is not my night," laughed David. "It's purely and simply a Democratic night. I shall be pleased to come." "Bring Joe, too," reminded Carey. When Mr. Winthrop came in David had no doubt as to the welcome he received from the head of the family. "A man's measure of a man," thought David, "is easily taken, and by natural laws, but oh, for an understanding of the scales by which women weigh! And yet it is they who hold the balance." "Fletcher and David and Joe are coming to-night to watch the parade from here," said Carey. "You shall all dine with us," said Mr. Winthrop. "Thank you," replied David, "but--" "Oh, but you must," insisted Mrs. Winthrop, who always warmly seconded any proffer of hospitality made by her husband. "Fletcher will dine with us, of course. We can have a little dinner served here in our rooms. Write a note to Mr. Forbes, Carey." The marked difference in type of her three guests as they entered the sitting room that night struck Mrs. Winthrop forcibly. Joe, lean and brown, with laughing eyes, was the typical frontiersman; Fletcher, quiet and substantial looking, with his air of culture and ease and his modulated voice, was the type of a city man; David--"What a man he is!" she was forced to admit as he stood, head uplifted in the white glare under the chandelier, the brilliant light shining upon his dark hair, and his eyes glowing like stars. His lithe figure, perfect in poise and balance, of virile strength that was toil-proof, wore the look of the outdoor life. His smile banished everything that was ordinary from his face and transmuted it into a glowing personality. His eyes, serious with that insight of the observer who knows what is going on without and within, were clear and steady.