some fellow senator to accompany him to Marion and make an address also.
"La Follette would be fine," he mused with emphasis as he chewed thoughtfully on a stalk of timothy, "but he doesn't want to do it."
"Why?" I inquired.
"Oh, principally because he is small of stature compared with me and a bit sensitive on that score; I can understand that perfectly, although he is a convincing speaker and I think would make a sensation in Marion. . . ."
How well I could appreciate just how keen Mr. Harding was to give our home town one of the best speakers the United States Senate could boast! I suggested with some timidity Hiram Johnson, or Borah of Idaho, both of whom I judged from my morning perusals of the New York papers were picturesque enough certainly, and seemed to make the Senate sit up and take notice. He discussed various senators ruminatively and explained patiently why he could not ask this one or that one. When I interposed certain remarks or suggestions he would smile appreciatively; I suppose there was an element of naivete about my suggestions of which I was blissfully unaware. He was quite talkative that day, telling me something of the friendship which existed between him and Mrs. Harding and the Frelinghuysens. The circumstances of our companionship that day were highly conducive to deliberate and confidential meditation, though these things interested me far less than our intimate personal discussions.
"Do you like my dress, sweetheart?" I could not help asking.
"You bet!" he replied, with admiration, sitting up to examine it more closely.
"Guess how much I—you—paid for it?" I challenged.
"Oh, I couldn't guess, dearie. How much?"
"Thirty-five dollars!"
"Honestly, Nan?"
I nodded, with pride. That was, for war-time, quite inexpensive.
