"You really like him?" Ned asked with a cold smile. "I love him," was the eager answer. "He's adorable. He's genuine--a man of the people. We've had many Presidents who wore purple and fine linen and professed democracy--now we've the real thing. I wonder if they'll crucify him. All through his address I could see the little ragged forlorn boy standing beside his mother's grave crying his heart out in despair and loneliness. He's wonderful. And he's not overawed by these big white pillars above us, either. The man who tries to set up for a Dictator while he's in the White House will find trouble----" "The two leading men he has called to his cabinet," John broke in musingly, "hold him in contempt." "There's a surprise in store for Mr. Seward and Mr. Chase," Betty ventured. "I'm afraid your father will not agree with you, Miss Betty," Ned laughed, glancing toward Senator Winter. "I foresee trouble for you." "No danger. My father never quarrels with me over politics. He just pities my ignorance and lets it go at that. He never condescends to my level----" She stopped suddenly and waved her hand toward the group of excited men who had gathered around Senator Winter. A smile of recognition lighted the sombre Puritan face, as he pushed his friends aside and rapidly approached. "How's my little girl?" he cried tenderly. "Enjoy the show?" "Yes, dear, immensely--you know Mr. John Vaughan, Father, don't you?" The old man smiled grimly as he extended his hand: "I know who he is--though I haven't had the honor of an introduction. I'm glad to see you, Mr. Vaughan--though I don't agree with many of your editorials." "We'll hope for better things in the future, Senator," John laughed. "What's your impression of the Inaugural, Senator?" Ned asked, with a twinkle of mischief in his eye. "You are asking me that as a reporter, young man, or as a friend of my daughter?" "Both, sir." "Then I'll give you two answers. One for the public and one for you. I've an idea you're going to be a rebel, sir----" "We hope not, Senator," John protested. "I've my suspicions from an interview we had once. But you're a good reporter, sir. I trust your ability and honesty however deeply I suspect your patriotism. As a Republican Senator I say to you for publication: The President couldn't well have said less. It might have been unwise to say more. To you, as a budding young rebel and a friend of my daughter, I say, with the utmost frankness, that I have no power to express my contempt for that address. From the lips of the man we elected to strangle Slavery fell the cowardly words: "'I have no purpose directly or indirectly to interfere with the institution of Slavery in the States where it exists'----" The grim blue-grey eyes flashed with rage, he paused for breath and then, livid with suppressed emotion, continued: