died?"

Politics! a word that men so often utter with contempt, has been
hallowed to me since that moment.

She looked away for a moment, swiftly pressed her handkerchief to her
eyes, then turning toward me said, with a smile, and in her former
tones:

"Forgive me! I've been a bit lonely and blue this afternoon, for the
day has reminded me of the past. I won't be weak and womanish any
more. I think some political questions interest a great many women
deeply. It must be so. We don't dote on scrambling politicians; but a
man as a true statesman makes a grand figure."

I was not thinking of statecraft or the craftsmen.

"By Jove!" I exclaimed mentally, "this girl is more beautiful than my
'perfect flower of womanhood.' Night-owl that I am, I am just gaining
the power to see her clearly as the sun declines."

I know my face was full of honest sympathy as I said, gently and
reverently:

"Tell me more of your brother. The thoughts of such men make me
better."

She shot a quick, grateful glance, looked down, trembled, shook her
head as she faltered: