But Fanny was already sure. It was enough for her that her husband considered it probable. She accepted it as a certainty. And from that time forward she devoted a greater part of her time to the contemplation of herself as the wife of a member of Congress, and, of course, a leader of society in Washington. That same afternoon Coleman dropped into the little office at the mill. “I did not come to see you,” he said, on finding Elwell in the office. “But since you are here, you can tell me what our chances are for receiving some help from Mrs. Elwell.” “How can she help us?” inquired her husband. “Oh, she can help, if she will. Let her go out among the women, especially among the wives of the mill hands, and if she plays her cards right, she can help us a great deal.” “I only mentioned the matter to her to-day,” Elwell said. “I did not expect that she would be called upon for assistance.” “Oh, that is nothing,” protested Peter, misunderstanding him. “All the women do that; all she needs is a little tact.” “That is just it,” replied his friend. “I rather doubt the expediency of calling upon her for help.” Coleman thrust his hands deep into his trousers pockets and walked over to the window, whistling softly. “If she can’t do it right, that settles it,” he said presently. “But we need some help.” He came back from the window and seated himself on the desk, swinging one of his short fat legs in the air. “I tell you what,” he said at last, “you get your wife to send for Lettie Allan. Oh, you need not look so indignant,” he went on. “If you can get her over here she will be worth a dozen men.” “I am not likely to advocate any such thing,” replied Elwell coldly. “You must find some other way out.” “There is no one else I know of that would do so well,” persisted Coleman. “It requires a peculiar tact. Mill women are hard to handle. It requires some one that will impress them by her appearance, and yet keep them friendly. Better take my advice.” “Probably for your benefit,” sneered Elwell. “No; you are altogether wrong there,” the other protested warmly. “I know more about that girl than you do. Why, we are not even friends--I wish we were,” he said slowly; “for I would marry her to-morrow if she would have me.” Elwell stared incredulously. “It is so,” continued Peter. “I made one of the greatest mistakes of my life there, and I wish I hadn’t. But you need not fear me; only take my advice and get her over here as soon as possible. See, now,” he went on, seeing some signs of wavering in his friend’s face. “I have always given you good advice. Take this now, and you will find it to your interest.” “I hardly agree with you,” retorted Elwell. “But if you are determined to marry the girl, I suppose I must help you; but I must consult my wife about it first.” “All right,” replied Peter briskly; “that settles it; and now I must see Morain. I want to have him elected to the convention, and, like you, I must consult with him first.”