“The ladies, generally, do not seem to be interested,” Vernon acquiesced.
“No,” she shook her head sadly, “no, on the contrary, I suppose most of them oppose the measure.”
“I have generally found them of that feeling,” Vernon observed.
“The slaves, before the war, often petitioned congress not to set them free, you will remember.”
Miss Greene spoke with a bitterness. Then quickly she collected herself.
“But your objections, Senator Vernon?” she said. “Really, we must get down to business.”
She raised the little chatelaine watch that hung at her bosom and looked down at it. And then suddenly, without waiting for his objections, as if she had quite forgotten them indeed, she impulsively stretched forth a hand and said:
“You will help me, won’t you?”
Vernon looked into her eyes. His gaze, after an instant, fell. He tried to run the stem of the rose through his buttonhole. The thorns caught in the cloth.
“You’ll have to do it,” he said, helplessly.