Mrs. Appleton seemed to recognize in Lena the same curious mingling of deep-down barbaric egotism and love of display, with the longing to be civilizedly correct. The two were drawn together.
“I like her,” said Lena positively.
“I’m sorry,” Dick said gently. “I can’t say that I do, and I should be glad if you could find your friends among those I love and respect.”
“You needn’t try to dictate my friendships,” said Lena sharply.
“I did not think of dictating, sweetheart. But when we love each other, we naturally long for sympathy in all things.” Dick was making a brave effort.
But there was little use in making this appeal to Lena, to whom love was but a beneficent masculine idiosyncrasy. Dick glanced at her and at his watch.
“I must be off,” he said. “I have an engagement to meet Preston and plan out our campaign.”
“Ours!”
“I’m going to run for alderman of this ward,” Dick laughed as Lena flushed. “Don’t you approve?”
“How can you be interested in running for alderman?” she asked. “It is such a mean little ambition. I wish you would try for something big. It would be grand to have you a senator, so that we could go to Washington. I should love to be in all the gaieties and meet all the distinguished people.”