"I am," replied the young man, "and proud of it. But for political purposes, I prefer the South. That's why I'm a candidate for Beachbourne East."
A few minutes later he took his departure. The Colonel watched him go with a sardonic grin. Philosopher though he might be, he was not above certain of the prejudices common to his profession, and possessed in an almost exaggerated degree the Army view of all politicians as the enemies of Man at large and of the Services in particular.
Bess was still observing through her glasses the little group about the man on the bench.
"There's Ruth!" she cried—"and Ernie!"
"Listening to the orator?" asked the Colonel, joining her.
"Not Ruth!" answered Bess with splendid scorn. "No orators for her, thank you!—She's listening to the baby. Ernie can listen to him."
The Colonel took the glasses and saw Ruth and Ernie detach themselves from the knot of people and come slowly up the hill making for Borough Lane.
"That really is a magnificent young woman of Caspar's," he said to his host.
"She's one in a million," replied the old surgeon.
"William's always been in love with her," said his wife.