"The pictures you saw must be very pleasing," Lola answered. "I hope they’ll all come true. But before we begin to discuss that, let me tell you that Mr. Rutledge asked to call this evening, and he may be here any moment." "Yes," said Elise, "I know. He told me last night." "Oh, he did, did he? Well, I promised him if he came early he might have ten minutes for his very own to talk to you to-night. I hope you—" "He may have ten minutes—and as many—more—as—he—wants," said Elise brazenly. "Oh, you darling!" Lola gave her a squeeze. "No wonder you are beautiful. It will make any woman heavenly, and you are _such a help_ to it!" "What is _it_?" asked Elise. "Love," replied Mrs. Hazard. *CHAPTER XXXIV* "Come along back to my own little parlour, Mr. Rutledge. Elise has been singing for me, and we’ll not let her stop for awhile yet." Elise was not expecting Rutledge to be brought in there, and was still sitting at the piano idly weaving the chords into soft and improvised harmonies when he spoke. She slipped from the stool quickly, shook hands with him in an embarrassed way, and crossed the room to sit down. "Oh, no, please do not leave the piano," Rutledge pleaded, "now that I have just discovered you are a musician." "I am not a musician, Mr. Rutledge; certainly not for the public." Rutledge drew himself up as if offended. "I have been called names variously in my time, Miss Phillips, but never till this moment ’the public.’ I resent it as an aspersion—I am not ’the public’—and demand an abject apology. Think of all the horrible things ’the public’ is—and are!" "And you a politician!" exclaimed Elise. "You would be lost for ever if those words were quoted against you. Senator Killam would give a thousand dollars for them. See—I hold your fate in my hands—" Rutledge’s eyes leaped to hers with a quick look that confused her, and she hurried to cut off his words. "—But—oh, mercy, I’m—I’m sorry, and I retract if it was really as bad as that. The public is really awful, I suppose. I humbly apologize for the aspersion." "Then bring forth fruits meet for repentance by returning at once to that piano stool." "But I’m such a very amateurish singer, Mr. Rutledge. I fear you will—" "And I am an amateur listener, the most humbly appreciative, uncritical soul on earth. Please sing. Mrs. Hazard, if you have any influence with this administration will you not use it here?" "Authority is better than influence," said Lola. "Elise, march to that piano." Elise complied with an exaggerated air of obedience. "Since I am singing under orders, I will sing only according to orders. What shall it be?" "Sing _My Rosary_," said Lola. "That’s an old one—and the dearest." "I commend to you Mrs. Hazard for sentiment, Mr. Rutledge. Her honeymoon is not yet on the wane." Having thus made Lola responsible for the song, Elise sang it without further delay or hesitation.