"He seems to have taken your measure very accurately."
"What do you mean by that?" she asked, up in arms.
"Oh, we've been told he knows how to deal with women. He can manage even the Suffragettes."
"Now you are a little spiteful. I know. You are jealous because you haven't got a President. You've only got King George."
"I've come to be grateful for George," said Napier, fervently.
"That may be, but nobody can call him exciting."
Napier assured her that was the precise ground of his gratitude.
The assurance went unheeded. She was still simmering with the excitement of her interview.
"Now the President is exciting. Perfectly wonderful, I call him. And perfectly splendid about peace, though he did say"—the little pucker gathered between her brows—"he did say we might have to fight for it. I forgot to ask him what he meant by that. I shall be dying to hear what you think about him. Couldn't we"—she hesitated, and then as Napier did not make the hoped-for suggestion she made it herself—"couldn't we meet?"
"Nothing I 'd like better—if you're not with—if you're here with your mother."