"Oh! Oh! What is the matter, Mrs. Walton? Is it a fit?" cried Selah, staggering back.
"No! Exercise. Just had my lunch! One—two—three! Never allow yourself to get fat, Selah!" Up shot the other foot and arm.
"'You may be mayor of this town before you are thirty. A fat mayoress would never do'"
"If I'd known what was before me twenty years ago, I'd have been more careful. One—two—three! Can't do what's before me unless I reduce. Avoid oatmeal and cream, that's what does it! You may be mayor of this town before you are thirty. A fat mayoress would never do. It would suggest beer! And look at me. I'm already so fat I have to lie down to take my exercise! But Regis and I have planned enough work to keep you lean this summer," she added, sitting up apparently satisfied with her state of exhaustion.
"That's what I came to see you about," said the girl, seating herself and looking down sorrowfully. "Father is dreadfully upset. He has forbidden me to mention woman suffrage in the house."
"Well, don't, then; don't speak of it at all to him."
"But he will never consent to my holding this trusteeship."
"Aren't you twenty-one?"