There were murmurs of various kinds, none of them very distinct, and then the lady continued; “All of you who are in favor of the movement hold up your hands.” One large and still imposing woman ostentatiously folded her hands, and several of the others followed her lead and kept their hands down. The would-be president said: “Madam, may I ask you if you have any personal objection to me?” “None at all,” was the reply. “Then I beg that you will reconsider your antagonistic attitude and raise your hand with the rest. Or, if you have any objection, please state it.” “I'll be tail to no one’s kite, and don’t you forget it.” This blunt reply caused three or four men who had unnoticed gathered around, to break out into their queer crackling laughter, and this so incensed the would-be president that she walked away in a most dignified manner. The young man found that he had unconsciously formed the nucleus of a group of men, and he felt glad of it, for there were several things that he felt he must learn before the end of the evening. So as these men seemed to him to be kindly disposed, he said to one of them: “I could not help hearing the complaints of those ladies, and it would give me the liveliest pleasure if I could learn something more of all this reunion. And, so far as I could judge by my own short experience and observation, women are quite as apt to remarry as men. I think they are a little harsh in their judgment.” “You are right, young man,” said a fine, intellectual-looking ghost, “but there is something to be said on the other side. Women marry oftener than men after being widowed. If anything is said they claim a dozen reasons why it became a necessity. Being left alone and without support, they have to marry. If they have money they need someone to take care of it. Now I was married, and I assure you that had she died, I should have gone to my grave mourning for her. She promised me on my deathbed that she would not give any man even enough encouragement to allow him to ask her hand. I died content, and felt sure that some time we would be united in that better land. I willed her everything I had. By George! She came to my grave one day with a bunch of flowers and began to cry and tell me that she was lonely, and that she had seen a man who could cheer her up, and asked my consent to her marriage with him. Of course I could not speak to say no, and the artful minx took my silence as a tacit consent. Then she called me all sorts of a noble and generous man, and went off. The next day she came back with the silliest looking chump you ever saw, and she said to me lying there helpless down below: “Jim, you know that I promised you that I would never let any man propose to me, so now to show you that I have kept my word, I ask you, Reginald-Ethelbert, to be my husband.” I was cured of all my infatuation for her as soon as I saw what kind of a man she thought so noble and so grand.