"Will I?" chuckled Reggie, proudly, and insisted on shaking hands.
H. R. rewarded him. He said:
"Reggie, I'm going to let you help me in my campaign. I'm going to the Assembly in the autumn."
"Albany!" said Reggie, enthusiastically. "First stop on the way to Washington! There was Cleveland—and Roosevelt; and now—"
"Oh, Hendrik!" gasped Grace. She would help him all she could—at the receptions.
Then she looked at Ethel to see whether she, also, understood national politics. Ethel did. She said, with conviction:
"And we'll all vote for him, too!"
The waiter laid a plate of sandwiches before Grace.
H. R. stared at them—a long time, as though he were crystal-gazing. He saw the labor-unions, the churches, the aristocracy, the bankers, the newspapers, the thoughtless, and the hungry; and all were with him and for him. He was the only man the Socialists really feared. If he was H. R. to New York, why should he not become H. R. to the nation?
He saw himself on the steps of the Capitol on a 4th of March. It was typical Rutgers weather. The mighty sun was trying its best to please him and incidentally tranquilizing Big Business by shining goldenly. The clouds, however, were pure silver—with an eye to the retail trade.