"Yes. This is just a measly little municipal election, however."
"Oh, I know that it is not gubernatorial."
"I observe that you have improved your store of knowledge mightily—since that day we sat under the althea hedge." She came into my room as she spoke, and sat down on the side of the bed.
"Yes, I feel that I know all about the state of affairs now."
"Then I wish you would tell me, so I can tell Rufe." She was tired out from her strenuous morning, and her head fell over among the pillows. I laid down the skirt I had been brushing and seated myself on the foot of the bed.
"What's the trouble?" I asked. "I thought the matter was very simple."
"You thought the matter was simple, you dear little goose, because our favorite piece of gubernatorial timber has showered you with devoted attentions this past month. It seems that he has declared his intentions toward you—so far as looks and acts go—but he is backward about his political doings."
"Then you have just not listened to what he has said," I denied stoutly, the spirit of the game strong within me, and the spirit of my admiration for him much stronger. "Nobody could denounce Appleton more entirely than he does!"
"Oh, Appleton!" There was infinite scorn in her tone. "What decent person doesn't denounce him?"
"Then, what's the trouble?" I asked again. "Appleton stands for whisky; we stand for water—the affair seems quite clear to me."