"Barry, do you suppose later on you'll be getting into politics?"
"Politics?" He laughed it away a little, yet at the same time clung to it, too. "Oh—you never can tell." As a matter of fact, as Louise could have told her father, the spring of a secret ambition had been touched. "Just now there's too much to do, developing—opening up the country.... There are plans in the air for another big power plant near Yuma. By the way, I can get you some shares there, if you like. As for politics...."
The Rev. Needham folded his arms with quiet pride. This was a man after his very heart. Perhaps he would be a Representative at Washington some day. Perhaps he would be Governor some day. And in the meantime, here he was, coming right into the family! No, the Rev. Needham could not have been any prouder of a son.
Upstairs all the ladies were in the midst of their toilettes. "O, world! O, life! O, time!"
"Are you girls putting on low neck?" demanded Miss Whitcom in her shrill way.
"Lou is," replied Hilda. "She always dresses when there's anything to go to, but I never do." She sighed. "Just think, Aunt Marjie, I haven't got a single low neck!"
"Cheer up, little one!" the aunt called over the three-quarters partition. "Your time's coming. I don't see—achu!—what you do about sunburn up here! Achu!"
She was deluging her neck and face with powder. Fortunately they were only going to a roast, and there wouldn't be much light, especially after the fire began to die down. Then she started slightly and frowned. Why on earth should one be concerned about a little sunburn? And yet—there was a thrill in the question, too. Miss Whitcom admitted she never would have been so concerned in the old days. These were new days. After all, Barrett seemed the only reality there was left. Yet there had seemed so many realities to begin with.
"Louise, what's the matter?" whispered Hilda, as she slipped a fresh jumper over her head and began tying its lace.
"What makes you think there's anything the matter?" asked her sister thickly.