The senator took himself off, while Warrington ordered a bottle of beer and drank it thoughtfully. Mayor! It would be a huge joke indeed to come back to Herculaneum to rule it. He chuckled all the way home that night; but when his head struck the pillow he saw the serious side of the affair. He recalled the old days when they sneered at him for selling vegetables; and here they were, coming to him with the mayoralty. It was mighty gratifying. And there was the promise of Washington. But he knew the world: political promises and pie-crusts. What would the aunt say? What would Patty say? Somehow, he was always thinking of Patty. He had not thought as yet to make any analysis of his regard for Patty. He held her in the light of an agreeable comrade, nothing more than that. Would she be pleased to see him mayor of Herculaneum? Bah! He couldn't sleep. He got out of bed, found a pipe and lighted it, and sat in the rocker by the window. Jove, hearing him moving about the room, woke up and came trotting in to inquire. "Ha, old boy, what do you think?" Jove laid his head on his master's knees. "They want to make a mayor out of me." Jove signified his approval. "They have forgiven us our daily vegetables. But shall I? Will it be worth while? Well, we'll take a ride into the hills in the morning, and we'll think it all out. Mayor of Herculaneum; sounds good, doesn't it? Nothing like success, Jove." Warrington smoked till the fire in his pipe died. He turned in, and this time he won sleep. Early the next morning he was off on his horse, and he did not return till noon. But he had his answer. At three that afternoon he had callers. Patty and Kate had just run over to see how the new play was getting on. Warrington confessed that he was doing only desultory work, but promised to read the scenario to them when it was done. "You are becoming lazy," said Kate rebukingly. "No; only a country gentleman." "Patty, did you hear that? He calls Herculaneum a country village." "Nothing of the sort. One may live in a city and be a countryman still." "Mr. Warrington probably misses New York," said Patty. "Not the veriest particle," promptly. Certainly Patty was growing more charming every day. The Angora cat, with feline caution, peeped into the room. Patty, who loved cats, made a dash for the fluffy animal, which turned tail and bolted for the kitchen, Patty a close second. For the first time since the marriage Kate and Warrington were alone together. He gazed at her, mildly speculative. "Well, what do you see?" she asked. "You are certainly one of the most beautiful women in the world," he declared, sighing. "You say 'one of'?" frowning. "There was a time when it was not general; you used the definite article." "I know it." "Then there must be somebody else," quickly. "I'm not a marrying man," he said evasively. "Is it Patty, Dick? Oh, if it were only Patty!"