“Seeing that I’ve raised you from a chick--I don’t think there ought to be much doubt about how I stand on the woman question as far as it affects two little specimens of the tribe--do you?” “All right then,” she cried gayly, “you love Marya and me. We are women. You can’t refuse us a little old thing like a ballot if we want it--can you?” She paused and kissed him again. “So now, Uncy, you’re going to hear Miss Holland speak just to make me happy--aren’t you?” He smiled and surrendered. “To make you happy--yes--” He couldn’t say more. The arms were too tight about his neck. He drew them gently down. “This is what I dread in politics, dear--when the women go in to win. We’ve graft enough now. When the boys run up against this sort of thing--God help us!--and God save the country if you should happen to make a mistake in what you ask for! Well, you’ve won this fight--come on, let’s get up front and hear the argument. I hate to stand on the edge and wonder what the hen is saying when she crows--” Zonia handed his hat and cane and, radiant with smiles, opened the door. “I suppose we’ll let Marya stay with Grandpa?” he asked. “They’ve been gone half an hour!” “Oh--” “I had no trouble with Grandpa at all. He agreed to sit on the platform with me--” “Indeed!” “But I don’t think he really understood what the meeting was about--” “Just to please his grandchick, however, the old traitor agreed to preside at my funeral--eh?” “He won’t if you say not--shall I tell him to keep off? Marya will be awfully disappointed if we make them get down--” “No--let him stay. Maybe he can placate the enemy. They can hold him as hostage for my good behavior.” The hand on his arm pressed tighter. “It’s so sweet of you, Uncy!” “At what hour does this paragon of all the virtues, male and female, harangue the mob?” “You mean Miss Holland?” “Yes.” “Oh, they’ll all be there tonight. Miss Holland is the principal speaker for the Federated Women’s Clubs of America--she’s the president, you know--” “No--I didn’t know--” “She won’t speak until 9:30. We can hear the others first. There’ll be some big guns among the men too--the Honorable Plato Barker and the Reverend A. Cuthbert Pike, the president of the American Peace Union--and Waldron, the multi-millionaire, he presides at Miss Holland’s stand--” “Indeed--” “Yes--they say he’s in love with her but she doesn’t care a rap for him or any other man--”