"Oh, dear me, no. I want to surprise him."
"I see," said he, rather grimly for him. "I see. We simply say: 'Here is a nice soft berth in the diplomatic corps, Stuyvie. You may sail tomorrow if you like.'"
"Don't be silly. And please do not call him Stuyvie. I've spoken to you about that a thousand times, Philander. Now, don't you think you ought to run down to Washington and see the President? It may—"
"No, I don't," said he flatly. "I'm not a dee fool."
"Don't—don't you care to see your son make something of himself?" she cried in dismay.
"Certainly. I'd like nothing better than—"
"Then, try to take a little interest in him," she said coldly.
"In the first place," said he resignedly, "what are his politics?"
"The same as yours. He is a Republican. All the people we know are Republicans. The Democrats are too common for words."
"Well, his first attempt at diplomacy will be to change his politics," he said, waxing a little sarcastic as he gained courage. "And I'd advise you not to say nasty things about the Democrats. They are in the saddle now, you know. I suppose you've heard that the President is a Democrat?"