I had readily perceived from Miss Harding's letter, received October 16th, 1925, that the line of thinking pursued by the Votaws as well as by herself led straight to the fear of exposure, and though, for their sake, I was ready to further guard their brother's and my secret from the world, in my heart I rated my child's future and my own sense of justice for her far above the continued consideration of protection of the Harding name. It lay with them and their sense of right toward Elizabeth Ann whether or not the story they wished to conceal were further revealed. I had assured them of my co-operation, and, except they fail me, I would continue to suffer the fictional explanations which surrounded the identity of Elizabeth Ann's father. But it seemed to me that our child, Warren Harding's and mine, possessed enough of distinction in being the only child of the 29th President of the United States, and I enough of pride in having been loved by Warren Harding and having borne him a child, to warrant an open expression of indifference if they in turn did not as dearly value the protection of their own family name. And the knowledge of their apparent lack of appreciation of my efforts up to that time filled me with hurt and righteous indignation. If, in the process of being obliged to approach personally friends of Mr. Harding, the story leaked out, I would know that I had done everything in my power to keep it intact, and that only the refusal of Warren Harding's own brothers and sisters to sponsor the cause of his own daughter had precipitated such revelation. I would sacrifice myself, in dedicating every remaining shred of nervous energy to protective efforts in their behalf, if they would make possible to me the possession of my child. But I would not forever tolerate unjust criticism of past conduct either on my part or on the part of their brother any more than I would countenance the figurative drawing away of
