Devota shivered and rose. Mrs. Churchill caught her hand.
"Those two have just returned from their daily horseback ride, when, secure from eavesdroppers, they discuss State politics. Did you hear, 'J'y suis, j'y reste?' He lives that historic motto! My husband thinks him the noblest man on earth, despite the fact that as an attorney for various classes, Rexford prepares bills that the Governor sometimes fights stubbornly. A great many years ago, before his political career began, when he was almost obscure, a horrid scandal was hatched against Royal Armitage, who it seems held some professional secret, and rather than betray the real sinner he kept silence, and endured disgrace until an unexpected death-bed confession fully cleared his character; and since then the people in that part of the State have never been able to do enough for him. This is his second term. Now run away and get ready for battle. You must look your best to-night and have barely time to dress. By the by, speaking of deadly battles, wait a minute. Do you mind telling me why and how you dared to cross swords with my august and formidable cousin, who has half the alphabet in capital letters dangling like a kite's ragged tail after her name, Professor Hannah Barbara Brown?"
"'J'y suis, j'y reste.' He lives that historic motto!"
Miss Lindsay had reached the door, but paused and looked back over her shoulder:
"As president of her college she wished me to endow a chair of Philology and Etymology; and to convince me of the absolute necessity of 'broader lines' of culture in education of girls, she commented on the surprising ignorance of some women who do not know that the abusive word 'virago' was a valued title of intellectual honor in the fifteenth century, and that its twin horror 'termagant' originally designated a deity. In very respectful terms I declined her scheme, on the ground that the new dictatorship of big wigs in orthography—the prophets of revised language—would soon leave no etymon for students to hunt down; 'fonetik refawm' would end that scholarly game. I tried in vain to propitiate her by offering to provide a chair of 'Household Economics, Sanitation and Decoration'; but she deluged me with vitriolic sarcasm, and in closing the correspondence, I ventured to quote a crusty old critic: 'If the stockings are blue, the petticoat must be long.'"