“No!”

“Yes, Your Excellency,” I hurled at him defiantly.

“You witch, you,” he answered me with a pleased, teasing whimsicality coming into his eyes.  “Of course, you guessed the letter and it was dear to have you do it, but we both know it is impossible.  Nobody must hear of it, and the telling you has been the best I could get out of it anyway.  Jasper, take my compliments to Petunia, this chicken is perfection!”

That eighth wonder of the world which got lost was something even more mysterious than the Sphinx.  It was a marvel that could have been used for women to compare men to.  That man sat right there at my side and ate four waffles, two large pieces of chicken and a liver-wing, drank two cups of coffee, and then devoured a huge bowl of peaches and cream, with three muffin-cakes, while enduring the tragedy of the realization of having to decline the Governorship of his State.

I watched him do it, first in awe and then with a dim understanding of something, I wasn’t sure what.  Most women, under the circumstances, would have gone to bed and cried it out or at least have refused food for hours.  We’ve got to get over those habits before we get to the point of having to refuse to be Governors of the States and railroad presidents and things like that.

And while he ate, there I sat not able to more than nibble because I was making up my mind to do something that scared me to death to think about.  That gaunt, craggy man in a shabby gray coat, cut ante-bellum wise, with a cravat that wound itself around his collar, snowy and dainty, but on the same lines as the coat and evidently of rural manufacture in the style favored by the flower and chivalry of the day of Henry Clay, had progressive me as completely overawed for several minutes as any painted redskin ever dominated a squaw—­or as Jasper did Petunia in my own kitchen.

But after we were left alone with the roses and the candles and his cigar, with only Jasper’s gratified voice mumbling over compliments to Petunia in the distance, I took my courage in my hands and plunged.

This can he used as data for the Five.

“James.”  I said, with such cool determination in my voice that it almost froze my own tongue, “I meant to tell you about it several weeks ago, I have decided to adopt Sallie and all the children.  I intend to legally adopt the children and just nominally adopt Sallie, but it will amount to the same thing.  I don’t have to have your consent but I think it is courteous to ask for it.”

“What!” he exclaimed, as he sat up and looked at me with the expression an alienist might use in an important examination.

“Yes,” I answered, gaining courage with time.  “You see, I was crying out here on the porch with loneliness when you found me.  I can’t stand this any longer.  I must have a family right away and Sallie’s just suits me.  I have to take a great deal of interest in them anyway and it would be easier if I had complete control of them.  It will leave you with enough family to keep you from being lonely and then we can all be happy together down into old age.”