“Douglas has often spoken to me about the work of your club,” she remarked. “He says it is having a great influence in New York.” “I wish we could persuade him to come in with us,” Farley said, wistfully. “I’ve been trying to get him for months. He’s just the kind of man we need most. You know we’ve been careful to keep absolutely non-partisan. We have public men from both parties among our members. It’s been pretty hard keeping ’em together. There are a lot of hot-heads among reformers, you know,” he went on, smiling. “I suppose when a man gets a strong bias in any direction it’s apt to throw him off his equilibrium. But most of our men have seen that partisanship would be the death of us. Our great point is to keep the city government out of politics as much as possible. Of course, there’s no reason why it shouldn’t be, except there seems to be a sort of weakness in human nature for following a banner and going in crowds.” “Then you don’t pay attention to politics outside of New York?” Helen asked. “Only indirectly,” Farley replied. “Some time we hope we can have a National organization like our city club to look after some of those rascals down in Washington. But as I was saying,” Farley resumed, eagerly, “if I could only get Mr. Briggs to join us, then he’d meet our men, and they’d get to understand him. They don’t understand him now. They think he’s been an out-and-out machine man. Of course, that’s all nonsense. I only wish we had more machine men like him.” Helen turned her head away. Dorothy and Jack were playing games with Miss Munroe. When Jack looked up quickly she noticed a little movement of the head that always reminded her of his father. The first time she had noticed this resemblance it had given her a thrill of happiness. On the arrival of the train in New York Farley helped his friends into a carriage. “I’m not going to bid you good-bye,” he said. “I’ll take the elevated and I’ll be at the Grand Central station before you have time to get there.” Helen offered a protest, but Farley smilingly insisted. “It’s on my way uptown,” he explained. “It won’t be the least trouble.” He had charmed Dorothy on the way over from Washington, and for an hour she had lain asleep in his arms. Now she clamored that he be given a place in the carriage. “I can sit in Mr. Farley’s lap,” she pleaded. “No, Dorothy,” said Farley, “I’d like that all right; but the carriage is crowded already.” “Then I’ll go with Mr. Farley,” Dorothy insisted. This compromise, however, was instantly rejected, and the driver whipped off. When Helen reached the station Farley had already secured the tickets and the seats in the parlor car. “I wish Mr. Farley was going with us,” said Jack. “Oh, do come, please,” Dorothy exclaimed, delighted. “Can’t you come and live with us like Mr. Fullerton?” Farley laughed. “Perhaps Mr. Farley will come some day,” said Helen. “Perhaps he will come with papa.” “Oh, good!” Jack shouted.