"You think so?" and Mrs. Whitney dimpled with pleasure. "I do want to win the election tonight—and clothes count for so much in woman's politics."
"I back you to win against all comers," and Whitney gave her shapely shoulder a loving pat as he stooped to kiss her. "What is the matter with Kathleen tonight? Her behavior troubles me."
His wife laughed softly. "She is suffering from an old complaint—she is in love."
"What!" Whitney stared at her in blank astonishment. "With whom?" and sudden, sharp anxiety lay behind the abrupt question.
"I suspect—Captain Miller."
"Miller? That silent—" Whitney checked his impetuous words. "Miller?
Good Lord!"
"What can you tell me about Captain Miller?" Her feminine curiosity was instantly aroused at his quick change of expression.
"Just what I have seen of him and nothing more. He never talks of himself."
"Such a relief," sighed Mrs. Whitney. "There is Randall Foster—talks always of his own achievements. Wait until Kiametia Grey marries him. I sometimes wonder…."
"I can't see that we are directly concerned with that romance," broke in
Whitney with characteristic impatience. "What's your opinion of Miller?"