A third paper announced:
"It is not to be wondered at that the women of Roma, casting around them to view the kind of men who occupy high seats in Roma politics, should say 'we will have none of them' and should desire to enforce a little petticoat government themselves. Roma has long been proud of its homes, its wives, its mothers and its housekeepers. Perhaps it would be for the public good, were we to set a few of these model housewives to cleaning up City Hall. Let them go ahead and elect a woman-mayor. Then let her proceed to eject the money-changers from the temple. Perhaps the women can do it. Certainly we men cannot,—or do not."
Gertrude Van Deusen read these articles during the hour after breakfast when a woman loves to "drop down" for a little in her library, with her feet to the fire, as if to gather her forces for the day.
"It is what I must expect, I suppose," she said to the cousin who shared her home. "Man's favorite method of defeating a candidate from time immemorial has been to villify him in the newspapers. What can a mere woman expect?"
"Well, it all adds to the gaiety of politics," returned her cousin. "What shall you do about it?"
"Nothing. At least, I don't know. I have already sent for Bailey. He will advise me. He knows all the ins and outs of politics."
"And he's secretary of the Union Club, isn't he?" asked the cousin. "At least, he was. Although that isn't a political club, still its influence would be worth a great deal."
"If we can get it," added Gertrude.
Bailey Armstrong was her second cousin and since the Senator's death had acted as adviser to Miss Van Deusen whenever she could be imagined to need advice. He was a rising lawyer with considerable political influence, and, what cheered the two women most this morning, he was a thorough feminist.
Senator Van Deusen had been dead only three years. He had left a large fortune to his daughters, one of whom had married and gone to Europe. The other lived here on the handsome estate that had long been one of the show-places of the town. Surrounded by every luxury, with no want left unsupplied, there were many to wonder why Gertrude should consent to be a candidate for public office. But her wealth had not so carefully guarded her that the modern unrest of her sex could not penetrate her soul, and she was strongly possessed of a desire to do something for the public good.