"The Cause!" said H. R., reverently.
"I never heard you express an opinion," said Mrs. Vandergilt, suspiciously.
"You have expressed them for me far better than I could. Mine isn't a deep or philosophical mind," he apologized to the mind that was. "I merely understand publicity and how sheeplike men are."
"If you understand that, you understand a great deal," remarked Mrs. Vandergilt, sententiously.
"Grace thought—" began H. R., and caught himself in time. "You haven't talked to her about it?"
"Grace?"
"Miss Goodchild."
"No. Why should I?"
"No reason—only that she has what I, as a practical man, in my low-brow way, think is a winner. Of course the suffrage has long since passed the polemical stage. The question does not admit of argument. The right is admitted by all men. But what all men don't admit is the wrong. And all men don't admit it, because all women don't."
"That is true," said Mrs. Vandergilt, vindictively.