"I have two," he murmured, "and you have only one. It isn't fair. You
shall have your boy."
He turned to his desk and wrote the order for his discharge. The mother
pressed close, gently touched with the tips of her fingers his thick
black hair and softly cried while he was writing.
She took the precious paper, tried to speak and choked.
"Go away now," the President whispered, "or you'll have me crying in a
minute."
When the last man had gone he stood alone before his window in brooding
silence. A tender smile overspread his face and he drew a deep breath.
In the hills of Pennsylvania he saw a picture--a mother in the door of a
humble home waiting for her boy. He is coming down the road with swift,
strong step. She sees and rushes to meet him with a cry of joy, holds
him in her arms without words a long, long while and will not let him
go. And then she leads him into the house, falls on her knees and thanks
God.
He smiles again and forgets the burden of the day.
CHAPTER XVIII
DIPLOMACY
In the whirlwind of passion, intrigue, slander and hate which had
circled the head of the new President since the day of his Inauguration,
the mother of his children had not been spared.
The First Lady of the Land had found her position as difficult in its
way as her husband had found his.
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