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The President's Daughter (Britton)/Chapter 54

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4694826The President's Daughter — Chapter 54Nanna Popham Britton
54

I wanted to see Mr. Harding first of all, and so I telephoned Tim Slade, the secret service man whom I had first met at Eagle Bay, and asked him to make an engagement with Mr. Harding for me. I met Mr. Slade, who was also bodyguard to the President-elect, that evening in front of the post office and he took me out East Church Street and Mt. Vernon Avenue and down to a little house where Mr. Harding soon met me. It was one of the houses I have spoken of which were used by the campaign clerical forces, and the sun parlor into which I first entered was filled with desks and papers. Evidences of great activity were apparent.

Tim Slade stood outside the front door and I had to wait only a few moments for Mr. Harding. He came up the short flight of steps and entered the door which Tim held open for him.

"Why, good evening, Nan!" he said. The door was closed behind him and we were alone. We went into the room on the left, which had evidently been used as a dining-room when the house was occupied as a home. The shades had already been drawn down, but Mr. Harding whispered to me as he greeted me with kisses that we would be wiser to go on out into the kitchen. The kitchen was almost totally dark except for the shaft of light which came from under the swinging door we had just come through. We stumbled around until we found a chair where Mr. Harding could sit and hold me on his lap.

After affectionate greetings, I exclaimed softly, "Oh, sweetheart, isn't it wonderful that you are President!" He held me close, kissing me over and over again. Our eyes were now becoming accustomed to the darkness and I could see his face dimly outlined. Oh, how dear he was! I repeated my exclamation. "Isn't it wonderful that you are President!" He looked at me some time before he answered. Then his "Um . . . . say, dearie, do you love me!" showed me that the glories of a victorious hero were submerged in the grander glories of a lover's delight in being with his woman. "This is the best thing that's happened to me lately, dearie!" he whispered.

"How's our little girl?" he asked when I had settled myself back in his arms for the talk I knew would be all too short. It delighted me to tell him all about Elizabeth Ann. Even then I had some snapshots and the first baby picture she had had taken.

Elizabeth Ann at six months

I showed them to him after we had again come back to the light of the dining-room. "Thought you said her ears were flat against her head!" he teased with an adorable smile. I observed then for probably the first time that the camera had not so registered. "But they really are!" I affirmed.

Then we talked of other things and Mr. Harding gave me two (or maybe three—I cannot remember) $500 bills. "Now, put these away, Nan, where they'll be safe—where are you going to keep them?" he asked, as I opened my mesh-bag and lightly dropped them into it. "Oh, I'll take care of them all right, darling," I assured him, as I thanked him for what I told him was far more than I should need. I had always found that with his letters I experienced a greater sense of safety when I carried them with me constantly than when I left them at home in a dresser drawer, so I decided I would do the same with this large amount of money.

While Mr. Harding and I stood there, he getting out the bills for me, I glanced down at the array of papers on the desk or table in front of me. The paper on top caused me to look at them more closely; they were concerning Mrs. Harding's first marriage to Mr. DeWolfe, and stated that she had been obliged to obtain a divorce because of Mr. DeWolfe's intemperance in drink. I read further to the end of the page and a wave of sympathy for Mrs. Harding swept over me. I knew of her son by Mr. DeWolfe and of how they said he had followed in the footsteps of his unfortunate father, and it really grieved me to think how one's personal sorrows must be unearthed to be made the topic for discussion by a gossipy public. And the enormity of Mr. Harding's secret and mine again possessed me as I thought triumphantly, "They haven't got our story!" And when I spoke of this to Mr. Harding he agreed with me that Providence had protected us.

Mr. Harding left ahead of me, returning to his home only about a block away. Of course Tim Slade did not know that I was far better acquainted with every corner of Marion than he ever could be, and when he asked me where I was going I told him I was going out on East Center Street to see a girl chum of mine. I do not remember in whose car we drove, probably one of the official cars that were at Tim's disposal, but I remember we drove out East Church Street and Tim let me out at a particular corner which was a block or so away from the home I intended visiting that evening.