"Yes, they are, and McCarthys sort of look up to them."

"Yes?"

"Mrs. Merley is independent, and hasn't much patience with the Elder."

"So."

"No, and for that reason he admires her."

"Indeed."

"Yes, and she was over there and sort a 'bawled' them out over what they were doing. Understand that she just spat it in the Elder's face and he had to take it."

"Well?"

"Yes. You see Blanche got married this last summer, and didn't quite please her mother."

"Oh, is that so?"

"Yes, Mary Merley is a friend of mine, and frankly she almost told me that she wished Blanche had married some one on your order.

"Oh!...."

"Yes, she did. And meant it! She admired your type, and I know she would have been more fully pleased in such an event."

He was silent.

"Anyhow, I have planned that it will be through her that you and Orlean may be brought together."

He was attentive.

"But before you go into it, my request is that my name shall be left out."

His eyes asked a question that she answered.

"It is so. While Mary is a friend of mine, she has certain habits that I don't like."

He regarded her more questioningly.

"I will say no more."

His face blanched, and then his mind went back two years. Orlean had made just such a remark. He was sorry.

"So I don't want you to mention me, since it would do no good."

"I understand."

"I want her to have the credit for whatever success might come of this."

"Yes."

"And my plans are that you go over there, and see her?"

"Yes."

"Jolly her a little, and don't let on that you are aware that she admires you."

"Very well."

"Get her to call Orlean up, and suggest a show."

"I get you."

"And there you are."

"Your plan is simple, but practical," and he smiled upon her thankfully.

He was standing now. He held out his hand. She grasped it, and bending forward, kissed him.

"Be careful, Jean," she said. "And don't do anything rash."

When he went his way, he understood.

CHAPTER XIII

Table of Contents

MRS. MERLEY

THE APRIL morn shone beautifully over Chicago, when Jean Baptiste came from the basement of the apartment where Mrs. Pruitt lived, and had bade Godspeed to him. It was election day over all the state, a preferential primary for the purpose of choosing delegates to the G.O.P. convention to be held two months later. And when Jean Baptiste thought of it, he understood what had brought the Reverend to the city.

Baptiste arrived at Mrs. Merley's an hour after he left Mrs. Pruitt, went directly to the number and pulled the bell. It was responded to by a young woman he did not know, but she assured him that the one he sought was in, and after seating him in the parlor, hurried to tell Mrs. Merley.