“But the fact is that he doesn't--not often--not at _all_ in the afternoon. Wouldn't it be well to give him some wholesome way of employing his Sunday afternoons? This bill provides for just that, and it keeps him away from drinking too, for it forbids the sale of liquor on the grounds.” “Yes, I know,” said Alonzo plaintively. “But it ain't _right_! I was raised to respect the Sabbath and--” “Ah, that's what you should do! You think _I_ could believe in anything that wouldn't make it better and more sacred?” “Oh, no, ma'am!” he cried reproachfully. “It's only that I don't see--” “I am telling you.” She lifted her veil and let him have the full dazzle of her beauty. “Do you know that many thousands of labouring people spend their Sundays drinking and carousing about the low country road-houses because the game is played at such places on Sunday? They go there because they never get a chance to see it played in the city. And don't you understand that there would be no Sunday liquor trade, no working-men poisoning themselves every seventh day in the low groggeries, as hundreds of them do now, if they had something to see that would interest them?--something as wholesome and fine as this sport would be, under the conditions of this bill; something to keep them in the open air, something to bring a little gaiety into their dull lives!” Her voice had grown louder and it shook a little, with a rising emotion, though its sweetness was only the more poignant. “Oh, my dear Senator,” she cried, “don't you _see_ how wrong you are? Don't you want to _help_ these poor people?” Her fingers, which had tightened upon his sleeve, relaxed and she leaned back, pulling the veil down over her face as if wishing to conceal from him that her lips trembled slightly; then resting her arm upon the leather cushions, she turned her head away from him, staring fixedly into the gaunt beech woods, lining the country road along which they were now coursing. For a time she heard nothing from him, and the only sound was the monotonous chug of the machine. “I suppose you think it rather shocking to hear a woman talking practically of such common-place things,” she said at last, in a cold voice, just loud enough to be heard. “No ma'am,” he said huskily. “Then what _do_ you think?” she cried, turning toward him again with a quick imperious gesture. “I think I'd better go back to Stackpole,” he answered very slowly, “and resign my job. I don't see as I've got any business in the Legislature.” “I don't understand you.” He shook his head mournfully. “It's a simple enough matter. I've studied out a good many bills and talked 'em over and I've picked up some influence and--” “I know you have.” she interrupted eagerly. “Mr. Truslow says that the members of your drains and dikes committee follow your vote on every bill.” “Yes ma'am,” said Alonzo Rawson meekly, “but I expect they oughtn't to. I've had a lesson this afternoon.” “You mean to say--”