a place, perhaps one might have to remain—I didn't know. And it seemed all out of proportion to the character of our own special case to suggest such a home for a President's child.
I supposed I voiced these things aloud; I don't remember. But Mr. Harding was entirely sympathetic. "I'll agree to anything you suggest, dearie," he said. Of course I had nothing to suggest. I would not listen to his repeated suggestion that he see Mr. Scobey, or even that he talk with his sister, Mrs. Charity Remsberg. I wanted Elizabeth Ann myself, and somehow it seemed to me I would never never see her again if I allowed either of these families to take her, even though Mrs. Remsberg was my sweetheart's sister.
"I guess the only thing is to let Elizabeth and Scott adopt her," I said resignedly. Then I could be with her at least. "See, here I have Elizabeth's itemized statement of her expenses if we decide to follow such a course," and I produced a small piece of paper on which my sister had entered her necessary monthly expenses. Mr. Harding slapped his Oxford glasses on his nose and looked at the final amount at the bottom; he was never much interested in my money items except as a whole. He agreed to the amount, saying if such an arrangement would make me happier than would an arrangement such as he had suggested, whereby later on I or he might take the baby as ours, he was agreeable to it. He tried to impress upon me how I would want to take the baby later on, but I could not see any future possibility of my being able to do so; and would he not be in the White House for four long years?—possibly eight. The adoption by the Willitses seemed to me to be the only thing in sight, regardless of how I deplored the arrangement.
Mr. Harding had met Scott Willits casually, immediately following his nomination in Chicago. This meeting was prearranged by Mr. Harding and me, and took place in the Florentine Room of the Congress Hotel. It was late afternoon when Mr. Harding appeared where others besides Elizabeth, Scott and I were waiting to shake his hand. He came in hatless and the June warmth was in his face. I have never experienced in Chicago, heat
