"Now, ladies, let us look the situation squarely in the face," said Mrs. Bateman. "I've lain awake many a night of late, thinking out things. It will mean a tremendous amount of hard and systematic work to elect a woman to the mayor's chair in Roma. But if we are thoroughly organized and can get some of the men's leagues and clubs to endorse us, I believe we can win. Think of it seriously a few minutes, and let us keep silence for a little while."
Then ensued the strange spectacle of fifteen women sitting at luncheon—speechless. It was a custom they had, whenever an important subject came up for discussion, to take ten or fifteen minutes for silent thought instead of wasting that time in discussion that did not get anywhere; so that when the moment for talking arrived the club-members, being accustomed to exert their mental powers, were prepared to advance and weigh such arguments as might be brought forth.
"Gertrude," said Mrs. Bateman at last, "you haven't spoken yet. You see your civic duty?"
"It will call for an appalling amount of courage and self-reliance and belief in the ideals of good government," began Gertrude—and stopped. Her voice thrilled with a new emotion and her fine eyes glowed with prophetic hopefulness.
"But the best people would be all with you," put in a young woman at the other end of the table.
"Would they, I wonder?" queried Miss Van Deusen. "From the time of the Nazarene down to today, some of the best people have found it inexpedient to stand by the right when it was presented in strange or new guise; and surely this would be a novel innovation—a woman for mayor."
"But you have courage enough," urged Mrs. Mason.
"If there was ever a woman with ideals," said Mary Snow, a newspaper woman who had not yet spoken, "her name was—is Gertrude Van Deusen."
"Friends," said Miss Van Deusen, "I'm going to stick to my guns. I said in my haste that I'd never let the figure-head of Defeat worry or scare me; that I would put up a fight. Well, I'll make the fight, I'll stand for the nomination and if I get it, for election."
"Three cheers for Gertrude Van Deusen," cried Mrs. Mason, and a vigorous round of hand-claps was her answer. Handkerchiefs were waved and there was excitement among the P. W.'s.