He narrowed his gaze a little and scratched his cheek delicately with the side of his forefinger, an odd trick he had when thinking deeply on questions of money. "So, so," he said. "So, so." "But a place like this means _heaps_ of money," Gerty waved a knowledgeable parasol. "I daresay." It was the air of a very "substantial" man indeed. "The year after next I expect to be mayor. And then"--a note of triumph crept into his voice--"we may be able to show some of 'em a thing or two." Miss Preston was diplomatically quite sure of that. And yet as she stood with the crude bulk of Strathfieldsaye behind her, she looked somehow a little dubious. It was as if, respect this brother-in-law of hers as she might, she had certain mental reservations in regard to him. He was too busy with his own thoughts to detect what was passing in her mind; besides the curves of his own mind were too large for him to care very much even had he done so. "You've got to come to the show, Gert," he said abruptly. "To-morrow week--don't forget." Gerty began to hedge a bit, but he would take no denial. It was her duty "to bring Maria up to the scratch." There was no way out, it seemed, so finally she must make up her mind to yield and to suffer. It would be a horrible affair--common people, brass band, a general atmosphere of vulgarity and alcohol; it would be all that her prim soul abhorred. And the heat would be terrific. Her spirit quailed, but how could the miserable Maria hope to get through without her to lean upon! Besides if she showed the white feather Josiah might lose some of his respect for her. And she couldn't afford that, especially after it had cost her so much for him to gain it. "She must get into the habit of showing herself to the public as she's going to be mayoress." Miss Preston quite saw that. She yielded with as much grace as she could muster. Josiah took her down to the gate and told her to mind the paint. And then as she was about to pass through, her gloved hand was laid upon his arm, almost exactly as Lawyer Mossop's had been, and she said softly and gravely in a voice curiously similar, "Josiah, if I were you, I should not be in a hurry about ... about Sally." The grimness of the eyes that met hers would have scared most women, but Gertrude Preston was not one to be frightened easily. There was hesitancy, a slight nervousness, all the same. Josiah shook his head. "No," he said slowly, "that gel is coming' out o' my will." The look of him as he stood there with the sun's shadow falling across his heavy face told her that argument would be worse than useless. Rather abruptly she said good-night and marched primly away along the road. VIII The annual Flower Show and Gala in Jubilee Park was in part a serious function, in part a popular festival. But its secondary aspect was undoubtedly predominant.