“That will please me better, but, of course, you must not do it if your wife objects.”
“She will not object. She is upstairs, now, with Maude. Of course, the girls are going.”
“Yes, and I have invited Captain Hornaby, a very fine young man. But, I must retire. I have a case in court to-morrow.”
Quincy found both commendation and criticism in the morning papers. His face wore its usual genial expression as he entered the elevator, and Robert's “good morning” was particularly cheerful.
The Governor's first caller was Mr. Acton.
“You see,” he began, “that your approval of the picketing bill is receiving universal condemnation.”
“Hardly,” was the reply. “Two papers and the Governor sustain it and the labour press and unions are yet to be heard from.”
“We shall endeavour to secure a repeal of the bill next year. In the meantime, we shall carry the matter to the courts.”
“May the cause of truth and justice prevail in the end” was Quincy's comment, and Mr. Acton took his departure in an uncomfortable state of mind.
The day wore away. At three o'clock a vote was taken in the Senate and the so-called Downing bill was passed over the veto. Not so, in the House, for one newspaper, read by nearly all the working men, had so strongly pointed out the nature of the “grab” proposed by the bill, that the State House was besieged by its opponents, and the veto was sustained by a narrow margin.