What Mrs.
Ann felt she had rather freely allowed to be known. The little groups
which were apt to gather about the grocer's barrels at evening discussed
the grave question of the day with an interest no previous presidential
canvass had caused, and this side eddy of quiet village life was now
agreeably disturbed by the great currents of national politics. Westways
began to take itself seriously, as little towns will at times, and to ask
how this man or that would vote at the coming election in November. The
old farmers who from his youth still called the Squire "James" were
Democrats. Swallow, the only lawyer the town possessed, was silent, which
was felt as remarkable in a man who usually talked much more than
occasion demanded and wore a habit-mask of good-fellowship, which had
served to deceive many a blunt old farmer, but not James Penhallow.
At Grey Pine there was a sense of tension. Penhallow was a man slow in
thinking out conclusions, but in times demanding action swiftly decisive.
He had at last settled in his mind that he must leave his party and
follow a leader he had known in the army and never entirely trusted.
Whether he should take an active share in the politics of the county
troubled him, as he had told Rivers. He must, of course, tell his wife
how he had resolved to vote.
Pages:
112
113
114
115
116
117
118
119
120
121
122
123
124
125
126
127
128
129
130
131
132
133
134
135
136