"Yes, it is," she answered, getting control of herself. "And it is time for you to take my place."
"I can't,—I have no desire to be mayor. You have proved your fitness for the post," he went on earnestly. "You have proved what a woman can do. Now keep on."
"No," she answered. "I want you to prove what you can do. The committee have asked you to stand?"
"Yes,—but then,—you should take another two years to fully establish and carry out the work you have begun. You see I have completely revised my ideas concerning a woman for mayor."
"Yes, thank you," she replied. "But, listen. I have, under God, had a successful term; I have been able to put through several changes for the better—with the help of good men like you. I am—yes, I admit it,—I am popular today with the people. But popularity is an uncertain thing, and there is no telling how soon it may wane. I am wise in letting go, while I am on the top-wave. Now, honestly, don't you think so?"
"If popularity is all you think of, yes," answered Allingham. "But it isn't."
"No, it isn't," she admitted. "But if you must have the truth, I'll go farther and say, the innovation of trying a woman for mayor was an experiment. The new broom has swept clean, and people are pleased so far. But the natural and right way of cities is to have a man at the helm. Between you and me, it is the fore-ordained method of nature to keep the man at the head of things, to take the brunt, to face the danger. Say what you will, the woman was not meant for this kind of thing. As we go on with our municipal life the realization of this is going to grow upon the people. While they are fully appreciative of all I have tried to do, there will develop the old desire for a man at the helm—and then comes discontent. Indeed, I can already see signs of it. You are the right man for the place. I shall always be thankful for the experience I have had; but I want no more." She smiled up at him. "I am more than content to pass it along,—not alone because the burden is heavy, and I am growing selfish,—but because you are the right man for mayor of Roma."
"Then if it is your wish," Allingham replied, "I will consent." He rose to go. "If only we might stand at the head together," he said. "With you to give a man courage—"
Gertrude interrupted him. "We should not be in accord. We could never agree. Don't talk about it." She rang the bell for the stenographer, and Allingham turned to go.
"May I say," she added, relenting at the expression on his face, "that you have done splendid work in your department? You have achieved the wonderful feat of improving our streets and keeping expenses down at the same time."