"
"Incomprehensible!" said Grey. "Ours is the party of gentlemen--of old
traditions. I cannot understand it."
"Nor I," said she, "but now at least," and she laughed--"there will be
one Republican gentleman. However, George, as we are both much in
earnest, we keep politics out of the house."
"It must be rather awkward, Ann."
"What must be rather awkward?"
Did he really mean to discuss, to criticize her relations to James
Penhallow? The darkness was for a time the grateful screen.
Grey, a courteous man, felt the reproof in her question, and replied, "I
beg pardon, my dear Ann, I have heard of the captain's unfortunate change
of opinion. I shall hope, however, to be able to convince him that to
elect Fremont will be to break up the Union. I think I could put it so
clearly that--"
Ann laughed low laughter as vastly amused she laid a hand on her cousin's
arm. "You don't know James Penhallow. He has been from his youth a
Democrat. There never was any question about how he would vote. But now,
since 1850--" and she paused, "in fact, I do not care to discuss with you
what I will not with James." Her great love, her birth, training,
education and respect for the character of her husband, made this
discussion hateful. Her eyes filled, and, much troubled, she was glad of
the mask of night.
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