essence of belligerency in her excited eyes, "for a moment I sat
petrified, _petrified_ with cold rage, until David Kildare's speech
began--there had never been a greater one delivered in the United States
of America! He said--he said--oh, I don't know what he did say, but it
was--"

"I just feel--" gasped Polly Farrell with a sob, "that I ought to get
down on my knees to him. He's a hero--he's a--"

"Of course for a second I was surprised. I had never heard David Kildare
speak about a--a serious matter before, but I could have expected it,
for his father was a most brilliant lawyer, and his mother's father was
our senator for twenty years and his uncle our ambassador to the court
of--" and Mrs. Peyton's voice trailed off in the clamor.

"Well, I've always known that Cousin Dave was a great man. He ought
to be the president or governor--or _something_. I would vote for him
to-morrow--or that is, I would make some man--I don't know just who--do
it!" And Polly's treble voice again took up the theme of David's praises.

"And think of the old soldiers," said Mrs. Buchanan with a catch in her
breath. "It will hurt them so when they read it. They will think people
are tired of them and that we don't want them to come here in the spring
for the reunion. They are old and feeble and they have had so much to
bear. It was cruel, _cruel_."

"And to think of not wanting the children to see them and know them and
love them--and understand!" Milly's soft voice both broke and blazed.

"I'm going to cry--I'm doing it," sobbed Polly with her head on Phoebe's