SISTERS IN UNITY
It was a very much flurried Vincent who admitted Senator Randall Foster,
and helped him off with his overcoat.
"They're still argufying," he said, indicating the closed drawing-room
doors with a jerk of his thumb. "I'll get word to Mrs. Whitney, sir, that
you have come."
"No, no, don't interrupt the meeting," hastily interposed the Senator. "I
may be a few minutes early. Can I see Mr. Whitney?"
"Yes, sir, certainly, sir. Come this way," and Vincent moved toward the
elevator shaft. "I don't believe Mr. Whitney has gone to his studio, yet,
sir; he never takes anyone there, and I haven't seen Mr. Spencer leave."
"Mr. Spencer?" Foster drew back. "Is he with Mr. Whitney?"
"Yes, sir, so Henry told me."
"After all, I don't believe I'll disturb Mr. Whitney, Vincent. Is there
some place I can wait downstairs?"
"Yes, sir, the reception room." The butler led the way to it "I'm afraid,
sir, you'll find it very uncomfortable in here, sir," looking at the
racks of coats and cloaks, "but"--brightening--"here's a copy of the
evening paper; Mr. Whitney must have left it; and this chair, sir--"
"Yes, yes, Vincent, thank you, I'll be all right." Foster took possession
of the solitary uncovered chair. "This is an excellent opportunity of
reading over my speech. Be sure and let me know, Vincent, the instant I
am wanted in the drawing-room."
"Surely, sir. I'll tell Mrs. Whitney that you are here, sir," and
Vincent retired.
Inside the closed drawing-room and library the atmosphere was surcharged
with electricity. Miss Kiametia Grey, who had locked horns with her
opponents on numerous subjects, sat back, flushed and victorious; she was
beginning to feel the fatigue incident to having borne the brunt of the
discussion, and was secretly longing to have the meeting adjourn to the
dining-room where she suspected Mrs. Whitney had provided a bountiful
supper. She felt the need of refreshments, if only a Roman punch.
Mrs. Whitney was also feeling the strain. She had designated a sister
official to occupy the chair when the nominating speeches were in order,
and was awaiting the announcement of the result of the ballot with inward
trepidation. Her composed manner and smiling face won Miss Kiametia's
admiration; she was herself of too excitable a temperament to keep her
equanimity unimpaired, and she watched Mrs. Whitney's calm demeanor and
unruffled poise, conscious of her own disheveled appearance. She missed
Kathleen; the latter's presence had become an almost virtual necessity to
the spinster. Despite the disparity in ages, their tastes were similar,
and both had a keen sense of humor. It had added zest to the spinster's
enjoyment of the season's gayeties to have Kathleen with her, and she had
watched the girl's gradual absorption in Captain Miller with lynx eyes.
The obliteration of Sinclair Spencer as a possible suitor had filled her
with delight. But she had seen Spencer in the house that very night. What
did that mean? What was he there for? Surely, Kathleen had not....
A stir in the back of the room recalled Miss Kiametia's wandering
thoughts, and she leaned eagerly forward to hear the report of the
chairman of the tellers. Mrs. Whitney was elected and Miss Kiametia had
also carried the day. Round after round of hearty applause greeted the
announcement, and as it died out the two successful candidates for first
and second place in the organization stepped to the platform. But after
expressing her thanks, Miss Kiametia again resumed her seat among the
members, while Mrs. Whitney took up the duties of presiding officer.
As the regular business of the meeting drew to a close one of the members
rose, and on being recognized announced that she had a resolution to
offer, and read in a high singsong voice:
"Be it resolved that this organization of Sisters in Unity indorse the
peace movement, and that it use its wide influence to check the tendency
toward militarism which injudicious and misguided Americans hope to foist
upon the American public."
Applause greeted the speaker, and a gray-haired woman across the room
demanded recognition from the chair.
"I would like to say a few words in favor of that resolution," she began,
finally catching Mrs. Whitney's attention. "Our wars with England, our
mother country, were but as the wrangle of relatives. The leaders in the
warring nations in Europe today are all related. Let us keep clear of all
international entanglements. Let us have peace. Through peace this
country has achieved greatness. Peace and prosperity go hand in hand.
Peace uplifts; war retards. Militarism is a throw-back to feudal days. On
its lighter side, militarism is an appeal for gold lace and brass
buttons. A man puts on our uniform because it is a thing of show, in
other words, conspicuous ..."
"Madam chairman!" Her face flaming, an irate woman arose. "No, I don't
care whether I'm in order or not; I will be heard--Mrs. Lutz is quite
right, the United States uniform _is_ conspicuous, and has been
conspicuous on many a bloody battlefield since 1776. The uniform is
honored alike in court and camp in every nation of the world."
As she sat down pandemonium reigned. Instantly Miss Kiametia was on her
feet, and her strident call, "Madam chairman, madam chairman," rose
repeatedly above the hubbub. Mrs. Whitney pounded for order and gave the
spinster the floor.
"I rise to a question of information," explained Miss Kiametia, in tones
which echoed through the rooms. "Is this an indignation meeting or an
assemblage of Sisters in Unity?" she demanded, and sat down. In the
comparative quiet that ensued, the peace resolution was seconded and
passed by a small majority.
Mrs. Whitney stepped to the edge of the platform. "Senator Randall
Foster has very kindly consented to address us tonight," she said. "So
distinguished a lawmaker needs no introduction to this organization. Mr.
Senator," as Foster entered through the door held open for him by
Vincent, "we invite you to the platform."
Bowing his thanks, Foster joined Mrs. Whitney and immediately began one
of those adroit, well-worded addresses which had made him a marked man
in the Senate. "I come to you a special pleader," he continued, with
growing earnestness, "to spread the gospel of peace. It is your
privilege to weld public opinion, and opinion can be as a yoke upon a
man's neck. In this free America opinion governs. Jingoes would try to
plunge us into war. When a boy is given an airgun, his first impulse is
to go out and shoot it off. Arm the men of this country and their
impulse will be the same. A small standing army does not tend to
militarism; its size does not lend itself to the issuing of imperative
mandates; and mandates, ladies, lead to war.
"It is especially a woman's duty to demand peace. In war, upon the woman
falls the suffering and the sacrifice. The lover, the brother, the
father, the son may find honorable death upon the field, but at home the
woman pays. God pity the woman left desolate and alone, her loved ones
sacrificed on the altar of militarism!
"And mothers? What of your children and the fate of yet unborn
generations? Are they brought into the world to be tools of militarism?
Lift up your voice for peace; carry the message, 'Peace on earth' to the
very portals of Congress. Make any and every sacrifice, but guard your
man child."
As Foster stopped speaking enthusiastic applause broke out, and a rising
vote of thanks was given him. As the gratified Senator stepped down from
the platform he found himself by Miss Kiametia's side.
"I did it to please you, Kiametia," he whispered, holding her hand
tightly. "Have I earned one kind word?"
Miss Kiametia favored him with a quick expressive look and a faint blush.
"You are a staunch friend," she said warmly, and Foster brightened.
"Only--only why did you lay such stress on the 'man child'? Nearly all
are spinsters in this peace organization."