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 and I want you to let her come in and sing it for you."

"A song?" said the senator, doubtfully.

"Papa de-e-ear, please."

He smiled grimly.

"If Claire will not be shocked by my appearance," he said against hope.

"Rubbish," cried Margaret, and flew out of the room.

There were a few preliminary gasps and giggles in the hall, and the two maidens, as sedate and demure as mice, entered. Claire was a little party, with vivacious manners and a comical little upturned face.

"How do you do, senator?" she said. "I'm so sorry you're laid up. Isn't it lovely out?" She advanced and shook his well hand.

"Won't you take a chair?" said the senator.

"I just ran in for a moment. Margaret and I thought maybe you'd like to hear the new campaign song that everybody's singing. My brother brought it up from Portland—" she paused, out of breath.