“Mr. Wilmer Lucas?” he cried. “Lucas and Henderson? That office is deeply concerned with the franchise now before the legislature and Congress. Everybody is agog to know how it is going. I, myself, am imploring all the saints to get it through! It will matter greatly to my plans, if it succeeds. I’m going to be able to found an Italian colony, if it goes through; give employment to many heads of families, and save no end of bambini from proselytizing societies for their destruction! You must know something about the way the matter is tending, Miss Adair. Please admit that it is trying, to feel that the knowledge one needs is just across the table, but wholly inaccessible, enclosed by the nimbus of your hair, sacred as a trust.” “I know all about it,” said Cis. “I handle the whole correspondence, but I’m not talking.” “Don’t imagine that I would suspect you of betraying a trust, still less that I would want information at that price,” said Mr. Lancaster. “It must soon be decided and made public. Interesting to see the inner wheels go around, drop a little accelerating oil on them in a hidden corner!” “Yes,” agreed Cis. “I like wheels, things getting done. But I don’t care more about that franchise than anything else, except that everybody seems to be wild about it. Rather sport to be the only one in the know, except your principals! What I’d like to find out is who’s going to carry off the World’s Series Championship!” Mr. Lancaster laughed, with a friendly and admiring look at unconscious Cis, who was laughing at Rod’s assurance that he could tell her, only she wouldn’t believe him. They had a bet on the result of the baseball season, on the chances of which they differed. After dinner there was music; Mr. Lancaster played the piano remarkably well, and Rodney had brought his violin; he played with brilliant excellence music that was sometimes sentimental, sometimes frolicsome, always popular, and never classical. Cis had a pleasant voice and sang with natural expression and taste, but she could not be induced to utter a note. “I don’t want to sing where I can be heard,” she explained. “Padded cell, solitary confinement for my concert hall!” and again Mr. Lancaster laughed at her; he evidently found her unaffected gaiety refreshing. At last the evening was at an end, and Miss Gallatin was helping Cis into her coat preparatory to her leaving. “So it’s all settled, Miss Adair--let me call you Cicely, will you?” said Miss Gallatin. “No, but say Cis; I like it!” Cis responded to the affection in the rugged, patient, lonely face over her shoulder. “Yes, it’s settled! See the ring? I’m to be married at Christmas, if you please! My birthday.” “Are you a Noël maid?” asked Miss Gallatin. “I noticed the ring; most beautiful! Now I understand the holly leaves and the ruby single holly berry. A marvellous ruby, a significant and beautiful design for a Christmas girl!”