“I'm not crying,” she said. “Really I'm not, Daniel. It is a relief to me, in a way.”
“A RELIEF?”
“Yes. If it had happened a month ago I should have felt it terribly. I was crazy for office then. But lately I have dreaded it so. If I were vice-president I should have so much care, so much responsibility. Now, I shan't. The honor would have been great, I appreciate that. But, for the rest of it, I don't really care.”
“Don't CARE! My soul and body!”
“No, I don't. And now,” bravely, “tell me all about it. I don't quite see how Annette could win if I did not; but Miss Canby is popular, she has a great many friends. I hope,” wistfully, “I hope I got a good vote. Did I, Daniel?”
Daniel's indignation burst forth.
“You didn't get any votes, Serena,” he cried angrily.
“What? What? No votes? Why—”
“Not a blessed one. They put up a low-down political trick on you, Serena. They left you out to save themselves. They took advantage of your bein' sick to—to—Here, I'll tell you just what they did.”
What they had done was this: Mrs. Lake and Mrs. Black, heads of the opposing factions, each realizing how close the vote was likely to be, had, with their lieutenants—Mrs. Dott excepted—gotten together five days before the election and arranged a compromise, a trade. By this arrangement, Annette was to receive the Lake party's support for president; Miss Canby was to be given the Black support for vice-president; and the united support of both factions was to be behind Mrs. Lake in her struggle for office in the National body. This arrangement was carried through. Serena, not being on hand to protect her own interest, had been sacrificed, her name had not even been brought before the members to be voted upon.