She
loved her father, it seemed to her, more than ever, and she could not bear
the thought of his defeat. Indeed, with that generosity characteristic of
the sex which can be truly humorous only when absolutely unconscious of it,
she wanted both Tom and the Colonel nominated, and both elected. She was
the partisan on Tom's side, the adherent on her father's.
Colonel Sommerton returned on the day before the convention, and found his
friends enthusiastic, all his "fences" in good condition, and his
nomination evidently certain. It followed that he was in high good-humor.
He hugged Phyllis, and in a casual way brought up the thought of how
pleasantly they could spend the winter in Atlanta when the Legislature met.
"But Tom--I mean Mr. Bannister--is going to beat you, and get the
nomination," she archly remarked.
"If he does, I'll deed you Sommerton Place!" As he spoke he glared at her
as a lion might glare at thought of being defeated by a cub.
"To him and me?" she inquired, with sudden eagerness of tone. "If he---"
"Phyllis!" he interrupted, savagely, "no joking on that subject. I
won't---"
"No; I'm serious," she sweetly said.
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