"Bosh!" laughed John. "There'll come some bold Lochinvar for you, one of these days; and then off you'll go. There's the bell. That must be Dick." Patty and Mrs. Jack crossed glances quickly. John went to the door himself and brought Warrington back with him. "Won't you have a cup of tea, Mr. Warrington?" asked the mother. "Thank you, I will." Warrington stirred the tea, gazing pleasantly from face to face. The lines in his face seemed deeper than usual; the under lids of the eyes were dark, and the squareness of the jaw was more prominent. John saw no change, but the three women did. Warrington looked careworn. "Well, John, I see that you have done it." "Yes." "I'm terribly sorry, but you couldn't back down now and live in town." "You see, mother?" John smiled sadly. "Yes, my son. You will do what you think best and manliest." "How's the cat?" asked Warrington. "It still wanders about, inconsolable," answered Patty. How careworn he looked! "Poor beast! It is lucky to have fallen in such good hands." "When you are mayor," said Patty, "you must give me a permit to rescue stray cats from the pound." "I'll do more than that; I'll build a house of shelter for them." "What time does your speaker begin?" inquired John, lighting a fresh cigar. "John, you are smoking too much," remonstrated Mrs. Jack. "I know it, honey." "Rudolph begins at nine; if we go then that will be soon enough. You'll be amused. Have you been riding lately?" Warrington directed this question to Patty. "Yes, regularly every morning." Patty dallied with the crumbs at the side of her plate. "I don't know what's the matter with me, but I find it wearies me to climb on to a horse's back. I haven't got back to normal conditions yet." "I was wondering where you were." "And how is Jove?" asked Mrs. Jack. "He's snoozing out on the veranda. I take him everywhere now." Presently they moved into the living-room. Warrington longed to sit beside Patty, but of a sudden he had grown diffident. It amused him to come into the knowledge that all his address and worldliness would not stand him in good stead in the presence of Patty. Words were no longer at his command; he was no longer at his ease. He was afraid of Patty; and he was very, very lonely. That empty house over the way was no longer home. There were moments when he regretted his plunge into politics. He was not free to pack his luggage and speed away to lands that urged his fancy. He had given his word, and he was too much of a man to withdraw it. He must remain here and fight two battles.