A vigorous veto of the bill giving a private corporation control of public property was sent to the Senate.
The “peaceful picketing” bill was signed.
The door opened, and a pretty face looked in.
“Come in, Maude—I've just finished.” As the secretary withdrew, keeping his eyes fixed on the governor's youngest sister, she advanced slowly into the room. The door closed automatically and Maude tip-toed to her brother's side, returning his welcoming kiss.
“What's his name?” she asked, pointing towards the self-closing door.
“My secretary? Harry Merry,” said Quincy, “but the press boys all call him Sober Harry.”
“I think he's just splendid,” said the impulsive Maude—“such beautiful eyes! But that isn't what I came for. I went up to your house and just brought Alice down to ours, and she told me all about the fine time you had and your speech. Will it be printed?”
“Mr. Sylvester Chisholm, editor of the Fernborough Gazette was there and a faithful transcript of my feeble remarks will, no doubt, appear in his paper.”
“Feeble!” said Maude contemptuously. “Have you been doing feeble things since you came back?”
“No, Maude, I have done some very strenuous things, and I shall be glad to get home to my family.”