THE PRODIGAL DAUGHTER
by
JEFFREY ARCHER


CORONET BOOKS

Hodder and Stoughton  To Peter, Joy, Alison, Clare and Simon

The publishers wish to thank April Music Limited for their kind
permission to quote lyrics from Jesse byJanis Ian.

Copyright 1982 by Jeffrey Archer

First published in Great Britain, 1982 by Hodder and Stoughton Ltd

Coronet edition 1983

ISB NO 340329629

The characters and situations in this book are entirely imagined and
bear no relation to any real her son or actual happening

This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of
trade or otherwise, be lent, re-sold, hired out or otherwise circulated
without the publisher's prior consent in any form of binding (it, cover
other than that in which this is published and without a similar
condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent
purchaser.

PRINTED IN CANADA

 Prologue

"PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES," she replied.

I can think of more rewarding ways of bankrupting myself," said her
father as he removed the half-moon spectacles from the end of his nose
and peered at his daughter over the top of his newspaper.

"Don't he frivolous, Papa.  President Roosevelt proved to us that there
can be no greater calling than public service."

"The only thing Roosevelt proved .. .. began her father.  Then he
stopped and pretended to return to his paper, realizing that his
daughter would consider the remark flippant.

The girl continued as if only too aware of what was going through her
father's mind.  I realize it would be pointless for me to pursue such
an ambition without your support.  My sex will be enough of a liability
without adding the disadvantage of a Polish background."

The newspaper barrier between father and daughter was abruptly
removed.

"Don't ever speak disloyally of the Poles," he said.  "History has
proved us to be an honorable race who never go back on our word.  My
father was a baron-"

"Yes, I know.  So was my grandfather, but he's not around now to help
me become President."

"More's the pity," he said, sighing, "as he would undoubtedly have made
a great leader of our people."

"Then why shouldn't his granddaughter?"

"No reason at all," he said as he stared into the steel gray eyes of
his only child.

"Well then, Papa, will you help me?  I can't hope to succeed without
your financial backing."

Her father hesitated before replying, placing the glasses back on his
nose and slowly folding his copy of the Chicago Tribune.

"I'll make a deal with you, my dear-after all, that's what politics is
about.  If the result of the New Hampshire primary turns out to be
satisfactory, I'll back you to the hilt.  If not, you must drop the
whole idea."

"What's your definition of satisfactory?"  came back the immediate
reply.

Again the man hesitated, weighing his words, "If you win the primary or
capture over thirty percent of the vote, I'll go all the way to the
convention floor with you, even if it means I end up destitute."

The girl relaxed for the first time during the conversation.  "Thank
you,

Papa.  I couldn't have asked for more."

"No, you certainly couldn't," he replied.  "Now, can I get back to
figuring out just how the Cubs could possibly have lost the seventh
game of the series to the Tigers?"

"They were undoubtedly the weaker team, as the nine -three score
indicates."

"Young lady, you may imagine you know a thing or two about politics,
but I can assure you you know absolutely nothing about baseball," the
man said as his wife entered the room.  He turned his heavy frame
toward her.  "Our daughter wants to run for President of the United
States.  What do you think about that?"

The girl looked up at her, eagerly waiting for a reply.

"I'll tell you what I think," said the mother.  A think it's well past
her bedtime and I blame you for keeping her up so late.  "

"Yes, I suppose you're right, Zaphia."  He sighed.  "Off you go to bed,
little one."

She came to her father's side, kissed him on the cheek and whispered,

"Thank you, Papa."

The man's eyes followed his eleven-year-old daughter as she left the
room, and he noticed that the fingers of her right hand were clenched,
making a small, tight fist, something she always did when she was angry
or determined.  He suspected she was both on this occasion, but he
realized that it would be pointless to try to explain to his wife that
their only child was no ordinary mortal.  He had long ago abandoned any
attempt to involve his wife in his own ambitions and was at least
thankful that she was incapable of dampening their daughter's.

He returned to the Chicago Cubs and their loss of the series  Prologue
3

and had to admit that his daughter's judgment might even be right on
that subject.

Florentyna Rosnovski never referred to the conversation again for
twenty-two years, but when she did, she assumed that her father would
keep his end of the bargain.  After all, the Polish are an honorable
race who never go back on their word.

 THE PAST

1934-1968  IT HAD NOT BEEN AN EASY BIRTH, but then for Abel and Zaphia
Rosnov ski nothing had ever been easy, and in their own ways they had
both become philosophical about that.  Abel had wanted a son, an heir
who would one day be chairman of the Baron Group.  By the time the boy
would be ready to take over, Abel was confident, his own name would
stand alongside.  those of Ritz and Statler, and by then the Barons
would be the largest hotel group in the world.  Abel had paced up and
down the colorless corridor of St.  Luke's

General Hospital waiting for the first cry, his slight limp becoming
more pronounced as each hour passed.  Occasionally he twisted the
silver band that encircled his wrist and stared at the name so neatly
engraved on it.

Abel had never doubted, even for a moment, that his firstborn would be
a boy.  He turned and retraced his steps once again, to see Dr.  Dodek
heading toward him.

"Congratulations, Mr.  Rosnovski," he called.

"Thank you," said Abel eagerly.

"You have a beautiful girl," the doctor said as he reached him.

"Thank you," repeated Abel quietly, trying not to show his
disappointment.

He then followed the obstetrician into a little room at the other end
of the corridor.  Through an observation window, Abel was faced with a
row of wrinkled faces.  The doctor pointed to the father's firstborn.
Unlike the others, her little fingers were curled into a tight fist.
Abel had read somewhere that a child was not expected to do that for at
least three weeks.  He smiled, proudly.

Mother and daughter remained at St.  Luke's for another six days and
Abel visited them every morning, leaving his hotel only when the last
breakfast had been served, and every afternoon after the last lunch
guest had left the dining room.  Telegrams, flowers and the recent
fashion of greeting cards surrounded Zaphia's iron-framed bed,
reassuring evidence that other people too rejoiced in the birth.  On
the seventh day mother and unnamed child-Abel had considered six boys'
names before the birth-returned home.

On the anniversary of the second week of their daughter's birth they
named her Florentyna, after Abel's sister.  Once the infant had been
installed in the newly decorated nursery at the top of the house, Abel
would spend hours simply staring down at his daughter, watching her
sleep and wake, knowing that he must work even harder than he had in
the past to ensure the child's future.  He was determined that
Florentyna would be given a better start in life than he had had.  Not
for her the dirt and deprivation of his childhood or the humiliation of
arriving on the Eastern Seaboard of America as an immigrant with little
more than a few valueless Russian rubles sewn into the jacket of an
only suit.

He would ensure that Florentyna was given the formal education he had
lacked, not that he had a lot to complain about.  Franklin 1).
Roosevelt lived in the White House, and Abel's little group of hotels
looked as if they were going to survive the Depression.  America had
been good to this immigrant.

Whenever he sat alone with his daughter in the little upstairs nursery
he would reflect on his past and dream of her future.

When He had first arrived in the United States, he had found a job in a
little butcher's shop on the lower East Side of New York, where he
worked for two Jong years before filling a vacancy at the Plaza Hotel
as a junior waiter.  From Abel's first day, Sarmny, the old maitre d',
had treated him as though he were the lowest form of life.  After four
years, a slave trader would have been impressed by the work and
unheard-of overtime that the lowest form of life did in order to reach
the exalted position as Sammy's assistant headwaiter in the Oak Room.
During those early years Abel spent five afternoons a week poring over
books at Columbia University and, after dinner had been cleared away,
read on late into the night.

His rivals wondered when he slept.

Abel was not sure how his newly acquired sheepskin could advance him
while he still only waited on tables in the Oak Room.  The question was
answered for him by a well-fed Texan named Davis Leroy, who had watched
Abel serving guests solicitously for a week.  Mr.  Leroy, the owner of
eleven hotels, then offered Abel the position of assistant manager at
his flagship, the

Richmond Continental in Chicago, with the sole responsibility of
running the restaurants.

Abel was brought back to the present when Florentyna turned over and
started to thump the side of her crib.  He extended a finger, which his
daughter grabbed like a lifeline thrown from a sinking ship.  She
started to bite the finger with what she imagined were teeth..  ..

When Atxl first arrived in Chicago he found the Richmond Continental
badly run down.  It didn't take him long to discover why.  The
manager,

Desmond Pacey, was milking the books and as far as Abel could tell
probably had been for the past thirty years.  The new assistant manager
spent his first six months gathering together the proof he needed to
nail

Pacey and then presented his employer with a dossier containing all the
facts.  When Davis Leroy realized what had been going on behind his
back he immediately sacked Pacey, replacing him with his new protdgd.
This spurred Abel on to work even harder, and he became so convinced
that he could turn the fortunes of the Richmond Group around that when
Leroy's aging sister put her 25 percent of the company's stock up for
sale, Abel cashed everything he owned to purchase it.  Davis Leroy was
touched by his young manager's personal -commitment to the company and
proved it by appointing him managing director of the group.

From that moment they became partners, a professional bond that
developed into a close friendship.  Abel would have been the first to
appreciate how hard it was for a Texan to acknowledge a Pole as an
equal.  For the first time since he had settled in America, he felt
secure-until he found out that the Texans were every bit as proud a
clan as the Poles.

Abel still couldn't accept what had happened.  If only Davis had
confided in him, told him the truth about the extent of the group's
financial trouble-who wasn't having problems during the
Depression?between them they could have sorted something out.  At the
age of' sixty-two Davis

Leroy had been informed by his bank that the value of his hotels no
longer covered his loan of two million dollars and that he would have
to put up further security before the bank would agree to pay the next
month's expenses.  In response to the bank's ultimatum, Davis Leroy had
had a quiet dinner with his daughter and retired to the Presidential

Suite on the seventeenth floor with two bottles of bourbon.  Then he
had opened the window and jumped.  Abel would never forget standing on
the corner of Michigan Avenue at four in the morning having to identify
a body he could recognize only by the jacket his mentor had worn the
previous night.  The lieutenant investigating the death had remarked
that it had been the seventh suicide in Chicago that day.  It didn't
help.  How could the policeman possibly know how much Davis Leroy had
done for him, or how much more Abel Rosnovski had intended to do in
return for that friendship in the future?  In a hastily composed will
Davis had bequeathed the remaining 75 percent of the Richmond Group
stock to his managing director, writing to Abel that although the stock
was worthless, 100 percent ownership of the group might give him a
better chance to negotiate new terms with the bank.

Florentyna's eyes opened and she started to howl.  Abel picked her up
lovingly, immediately regretting the decision as he felt the damp,
clammy bottom.  He changed her diaper quickly, drying the child
carefully, before making a triangle of the cloth, not allowing the big
pins anywhere near her body: any midwife would have nodded her approval
at his deftness.

Florentyna closed her eyes and nodded back to sleep on her father's
shoulder.  "Ungrateful brat," he murmured fondly as he kissed her on
the cheek.

After Davis Leroy's funeral Abel had visited Kane and Cabot, the
Richmond

Group's bankers in Boston, and pleaded with one of the directors not to
put the eleven hotels up for sale on the open market.  He tried to
convince the bank that if only they would back him, he could-given
time-turn the balance sheet from red into black.  The smooth, cold man
behind the expensive partner's desk had proved intractable.  "I have
responsibilities to my own clients to consider," he had used as an
excuse.  Abel would never forget the humiliation of having to call a
man of his own age "sir" and still leave empty-handed.  The man must
have had the soul of a cash register not to realize how many people
were affected by his decision.  Abel promised himself, for the
hundredth time, that one day he would get even with Mr.

William "Ivy League" Kane.

Abel had traveled back to Chicago thinking that nothing else could go
wrong in his life, only to find the Richmond Continental burned to the
ground and the police accusing him of arson.  Arson it proved to be,
but at the hands of Desmond Pacey bent on revenge.  When arrested, he
readily admitted the crime; his only interest was the downfall of AM.
Pacey would have succeeded if the insurance company had not come to

Abel's rescue.  Until that moment, Abel had wondered if he would not
have been better off in the Russian prisoner-of-war

Las%he had escaped from before fleeing to America.  But then ck turned
when an anonymous backer, who, Abel concluded, must be David Maxton of
the Stevens

Hotel, purchased the Richmond Group and offered Abel his old position
as managing director and a chance to prove he could run the company at
a profit.

Abel recalled how he had been reunited with Zaphia, the self-assured
girl he had fn-st met on board the ship that had brought them to
America.  How immature she had made him feel then, but not when they re
met and he discovered she was a waitress at the Stevens.

Two years had passed since then, and although the newly named Baron
Group had failed to make a profit in 1933, it lost only $23,000,
greatly helped by Chicago's celebration of its centenary, when over a
million tourists had visited the city to enjoy the World's Fair.

Once Pacey had been convicted of arson, Abel had only to wait for the
insurance money to be paid before he could set about rebuilding the
hotel in Chicago.  He had used the interim period to visit the other
ten hotels in the group, sacking staff who showed the same pecuniary
tendencies as

Desmond Pacey and replacing them from the long, lines of unemployed
that stretched across America.

Zaphia began to resent Abel's journeys from Charleston to Mobile,
from

Houston to Memphis, continually checking over his hotels in the
South.

But Abel realized that if he was to keep his side of the bargain with
the anonymous backer, there would be little time to sit around at home,
however much he adored his daughter.  He had been given ten years to
repay the bank loan; if he succeeded, a clause in the contract
stipulated, he would be allowed to purchase all the stock in the
company for a further three million dollars.  Zaphia thanked God each
night for what they already had and pleaded with him to slow down, but
nothing was going to stop Abel from trying to fulfill the contract to
the letter.

"Your dinner's ready," shouted Zaphia at the top of her voice.

Abel pretended he hadn't heard and continued to stare down at his
sleeping daughter.

"Didn't you hear me?  Dinner is ready."

"What?  No, dear.  Sorry.  Just coming."  Abel reluctantly rose to join
his wife for dinner.  Florentyna's rejected red eiderdown lay on the
floor beside her cot.  He picked up the fluffy quilt and placed it
carefully on top of the blanket that covered his daughter.  He never
wanted her to feel the cold.  She smiled in her sleep.  Was she having
her first dream?  Abel wondered as he switched out the light.

FLORENrYNA'S CHRISTENING was something everyone present was to
remember-except Florentyna, who slept through the entire proceedings.
After the ceremony at the Holy Name Cathedral on North Wabash, the
guests made their way to the Stevens Hotel, where Abel had taken a
private room.  He had invited over a hundred guests to celebrate the
occasion.  His closest friend, George Novak, a fellow Pole who had
occupied the bunk al~ ove him on the ship coming over from Europe, was
to be one Kum, while one of Zaphia's cousins, Janina, was to be the
other.

The guests devoured a traditional ten-course dinner including pirogi
and bigos while Abel sat at the head of the table accepting gifts on
behalf of his daughter.  There was a silver rattle, US savings bonds, a
copy of

Huckleberry Finn and, finest of all, a beautiful antique emerald ting
from

Abel's unnamed benefactor.  He only hoped that the man gained as much
pleasure in the giving as his daughter showed in the receiving.  To
mark the occasion, Abel presented his daughter with a large brown teddy
bear with red eyes.

"It looks like Franklin D. Roosevelt," said George, holding the bear up
for all to see.  "This calls for a second christeningFDR.  "

Abel raised his glass.  "Mr.  President," he toasted-a name the bear
never relinquished.  "The party finally came to an end about 3 A.M."
when Abel had to requisition a laundry cart from the hotel to transport
all the gifts home.  George waved to Abel as he headed off down Lake
Shore, Drive, pushing the cart before him.

The happy father began whistling to himself as he recalled every moment
of the wonderful evening.  Only when Mr.  President fell off the cart
for a third time did Abel realize how crooked his path must have been
down Lake Shore Drive.  He picked up the bear and wedged it into the
center of the gifts and was about to attempt a straighter path when a
hand touched his shoulder.  Abel jumped around, ready to defend with
his life anyone who wanted to steal Florentyna's first possessions.  He
stared up into the face of a young policeman.

"Maybe you have a simple explanation as to why you're pushing a
Stevens

Hotel laundry cart down Lake Shore Drive at three in the morning?"

"Yes, officer," replied Abel.

"Well, let's start with what's in the packages."

"Other than Franklin D. Roosevelt, I can't be certain."

The policeman immediately arrested Abel on suspicion of larceny.  While
the recipient of the gifts slept soundly under her red eiderdown quilt
in the little nursery at the top of the house on Rigg Street, her
father spent a sleepless night on an old horsehair mattress in a cell
at the local jail.

George appeared at the courthouse early in the morning to verify Abel's
story..  The next day Abel purchased a maroon four-door Buick from
Peter

Sosnkowski, who ran a secondhand car lot in Logan Square.

Abel began to resent having to leave Chicago and his beloved Florentyna
even for a few days, fearing he might miss her first step, her first
word or her first anything.  From her birth, he had supervised her
daily routine, never allowing Polish to be spoken in the house; he was
determined there be no trace of a Polish accent that would make her
feel ill at ease in society.  Abel had intently waited for her first
word, hoping it would be

"Papa," while Zaphia feared it might be some Polish word that would
reveal that she had not been speaking English to her firstborn when
they were alone.

"My daughter is an American," he explained to Zaphia, "and she must
therefore speak English.  Too many Poles continue to converse in their
own language, thus ensuring that their children spend their entire
lives in the northwest corner of Chicago being described as "Stupid
Polacks' and ridiculed by everyone else they come across."

"Except their own countrymen who still feel some loyalty to the Polish
empire," said Zaphia defensively.

"The Polish empire?  What century are you living in, Zaphia?"

"The twentieth century," she said, her voice rising.

"Along with Dick Tracy.  and Famous Funnies, no doubt?"

"Hardly the attitude of someone whose ultimate ambition is to return
to

Warsaw as the first Polish ambassador."

"I've told you never to mention that, Zaphia.  Never."

Zaphia, whose English remained irredeemably shaky, didn't reply but
later grumbled to her cousins on the subject and continued to speak
only Polish when Abel was out of the house.  She was not impressed by
the fact, so often trotted out by Abel, that General Motors' turnover
was greater than

Poland's budget.

By 1935, Abel was convinced that America had turned the corner and that
the

Depression was a thing of the past, so he decided the time had come to
build the new Chicago Baron on the site of the old Richmond
Continental.  He appointed an architect and began spending more time in
the Windy City and less on the.  road, determined that the hotel would
turn out to be the finest in the Midwest.

The Chicago Baron was completed in May 1936 and opened by the
Democratic mayor, Edward J. Kelly.  Both Illinois senators were dancing
attendance, only too aware of Abel's burgeoning power.

"Looks like a million dollars," said Hamilton Lewis, the senior
senator.

"You wouldn't be far wrong," said Abel, as he admired the thickly
carpeted public rooms, the high stucco ceilings and the decorations in
pastel shades of green.  he final touch had been the dark green
embossed B that adorned everything from the towels in the bathrooms to
the flag that fluttered on the top of the forty-two-story building.

"This hotel already bears the hallmark of success," said Hamilton
Lewis, addressing the two thousand assembled guests, "because, my
friends, it is the man and not the building who will always be known as
the Chicago

Baron," Abel was delighted by the roar that went up and smiled to
himself.

His public relations advisor had supplied that line to the senator's
speech writer earlier in the week.

Abel felt at ease among big businessmen and senior politicians. Zaphia,
however, had not adapted to her husband's change in fortunes and
hovered uncertainly in the background, drinking a little too much
champagne, and finally crept away before the dinner was served with the
lame excuse about wanting to see that Florentyna was safely asleep.
Abel accompanied his flushed wife toward the revolving door in silent
irritation.  Zaphia neither cared for nor understood success on Abel's
scale and preferred to ignore his new world.  She was only too aware
how much this annoyed Abel and couldn't resist saying, "Don't hurry
home" as he bundled her into a cab.

"I won't," he told the revolving door as he returned, pushing it so
hard that it went around three more times after he had left it.

He returned to the hotel foyer to find Alderman Henry Oshome waiting
for him.

"This must be the high point in your life," the alderman remarked.

"High point?  I've just turned thirty," said Abel.

A camera flashed as he placed an arm around the tall, darkly handsome
politician.  Abel smiled toward the cameraman, enjoying the treatment
he was receiving as a celebrity, and said just loud enough for
eavesdroppers to hear, "I'm going to put Baron hotels right across the
globe.  I intend to be to America what Cdsar Ritz was to Europe.  Stick
with me, Henry, and you'll enjoy the ride."  The city alderman and Abel
walked together into the dining room and once they were out of earshot
Abel added: "Join me for lunch tomorrow, Henry, if you can spare the
time.  There's something

I need to discuss with you."

"Delighted, Abel.  A mere city alderman is always available for the

Chicago Baron."

They both laughed heartily, although neither thought the remark
particularly funny.

It turned out to be another late night for Abel.  When he returned home
he went straight to the spare room, to be sure he didn't wake Zaphia-or
that's what he told her the next morning.

When Abel came into the kitchen to join Zaphia for breakfast Florentyna
was sitting in her high chair smearing a bowlful of cereal
enthusiastically around her mouth and biting at most things that
remained within arms' reach-even if they weren't food.  When he had
finished his waffles, dripping with maple syrup, Abel rose from his
chair and told

Zaphia that he would be having lunch with Henry Osborne.

"I don't like that man," said Zaphia, with feeling.

"I'm not crazy about him myself," replied Abel.  "But never forget he's
well placed in City Hall to be able to do us a lot of favors."

"And a lot of harm."

"Don't lose any sleep over that.  You can leave the handling of
Alderman

Osborne to me," said Abel as he brushed his wife's cheek and turned to
leave.

"Presidunk," said a voice, and both parents turned to stare at

Florentyna, who was gesticulating at the fl" where the
eight-month-old

Franklin D. Roosevelt lay on his furry face.

Abel laughed, picked up the much-loved teddy bear and placed him in the
space Florentyna had left for him on the high chair.

"Pres-i-dent," said Abel slowly and firmly.

"Presidunk," insisted Florentyna.

Abel laughed again and patted Franklin D. Roosevelt on the head.  So
FDR was responsible not only for the New Deal but also for Florentyna's
first political utterance.

Abel left the house, to find his chauffeur waiting for him beside the
new

Cadillac.  Abel's driving had become worse as the cars he could afford
improved.  When he bought the Cadillac, George had advised a driver to
go with it.  That morning he asked the chauffeur to drive slowly as
they approached the Gold Coast.  Abel stared up at the gleaming glass
of the

Chicago Baron and marveled that there was no place on earth where a man
could achieve so much so quickly.  What the Chinese would have been
happy to strive for in ten generations, he had achieved in less than
fifteen years.

He leajx~d out of the car before his chauffeur could run around to open
the door, walked briskly into the hotel and took the private express
elevator to the forty-second floor, where he spent the rnoming checking
over every problem with which the new hotel was faced.  One of the
passenger elevators wasn't functioning properly.  Two waiters had been
involved in a knife fight in the kitchen and had been sacked by George
even before Abel had arrived, and the list of damages after the opening
looked suspiciously high: Abel would have to check into the possibility
that thefts by waiters were being recorded in the books as breakage. He
left nothing to chance in any of his hotels, from who was staying in
the

Presidential Suite to the price of the eight thousand fresh rolls the
hotel needed every week.  He spent the morning dealing with queries,
problems and decisions, stopping only when Alderman Osborne was ushered
into Abel's office by his secretary.

"Good morning, Baron," said Henry, patronizingly referring to the

Roznovski family title.

In Abel's younger days as a junior waiter at the Plaza in New York the
title had been scornfully mimicked to his face.  At the Richmond

Continental when he was assistant manager it had figured in whispered
jokes behind his back.  Lately everyone mouthed the prefix with
respect.

"Good morning, Alderman," said Abel, glancing at the clock on his desk.
It was five past one.  "Shall we have lunch?"

Abel guided Henry into the adjoining private dining room.  To a casual
observer, Henry Osborne would hardly have seemed a natural soulmate
for

Abel.  Educated at Choate and then Harvard, as he continually reminded
Abel, he had later served as a young lieutenant with the Marines in the
World

War.  At six feet, with a full head of black hair lightly sprinkled
with gray, he looked younger than his history insisted he had to be.

The two men had first met as a result of the fire at the old Richmond

Continental, Henry was then working for the Great Western Casualty

Insurance Company, which had, for as long as anyone could remember,
insured the Richmond Group.  Abel had been taken aback when Henry had
suggested that a small cash payment would ensure a swifter flow of the
claim papers through the head office.  Abel did not possess a "small
cash payment" in those days-although the claim eventually found its way
through because

Henry also believed in Abel's future.

Abel had learned for the first time about men who could be bought.

By the time Henry Osborne was elected to the Chicago City Council as an
alderman, Abel could afford a small cash payment, and the building
permit for the new Baron proceeded through City Hall as though on
roller skates.

When Henry later announced that he would be running for the Ninth
District of the House of Representatives in Illinois, Abel was among
the first to send a sizable check for his campaign fund.  While Abel
remained wary of his new ally personally, he recognized that a tame
politician could be of great help to the Baron Group.  Abel took care
to ensure that none of the small cash payment she did not think of them
as bribes, even to himself-was on the record and felt confident that he
could terminate their relationship as and when it suited him.

The dining room was decorated in the same delicate shades of green as
the rest of the hotel, but there was no sign of the embossed B anywhere
in the room.  The furniture was nineteenth century, entirely in oak.
Around the walls hung oil portraits from the same period, almost all
imported.  With the door closed, it was possible to imagine that one
was in another world far away from the hectic pace of a modern hotel.

Abel took his place at the head of an ornate table that could have
comfortably seated eight guests but that day was laid only for two.

"It's like being in a bit of old England," said Henry, taking in the
room.

"Not to mention Poland," replied Abel, as a uniformed waiter served
smoked salmon while another poured them both a glass of Bouchard
Chablis.

Henry stared down at the full plate in front of him.  "Now I can see
why you're putting on so much weight, Baron."

Abel frowned and quickly changed the subject.  "Are you going to the

Cubs's game tomorrow?"

"What's The point?  They have a worse home record than the
Republicans.

Not that my absence will discourage the Tribune from describing the
match as a close-fought battle bearing no relation to the score and
that if a totally different set of circumstances had taken place, the
Cubs would have pulled off a famous victory."

Abel laughed.

"One thing's for sure," continued Henry.  "you'll never see a night
game at Wrigley Field.  Playing under floodlights won't catch on in
Chicago."

"That's what you said about beer cans last year."

It was Henry's turn to frown.  "You didn't ask me to lunch to hear my
views on baseball or beer cans.  Abel, so what little plan can I assist
you with this time?"

"Simple.  I want to ask your advice on what I should do about William

Kane."

Henry seemed to choke.  I must speak to the chef: there shouldn't be
any bones in smoked salmon, thought Abel before he continued.

"You once told me, Henry, in graphic detail what had fiappened when
your path crossed Mr.  Kane's and how he ended up defrauding you of
money.

Well, Kane did far worse than that to me.  During the Depression he put
the squeeze on Davis Leroy, my partner and closest friend, and was the
direct cause of Leroy's suicide.  To make matters worse, Kane refused
to support me when I wanted to take over the management of the hotels
and try to put the group on a sound financial footing."

"Who did back you in the end?"  asked Henry.

"A private investor with the Continental Trust.  The manager has never
told me in so many words, but I've always suspected it was David
Maxton."

"The owner of the Stevens Hotel?"

"The same."

"What makes you think it was him?"

"When I had the reception for my wedding and again for Florentyna's
christening at the Stevens, the bill was covered by my backer."

"That's hardly conclusive."

"Agreed, but I'm certain it's Maxton, because he once offered me the
chance to run the Stevens.  I told him I was more interested in finding
a backer for the Richmond Group, and within a week his bank in Chicago
came up with the money from someone who could not reveal their identity
because it would clash with their day-to-day business interests."

"That's a little more convincing.  But tell- me what you have in mind
for

William Kane," said Henry as he toyed with his wineglass and waited
for

Abel to continue.

"Something that shouldn't take up a lot of your time, Henry, but might
well prove to be rewarding for you both financially and, as you hold
Kane in the same high regard as I do, personally."

"I'm listening," said Henry, still not looking up from his glass.

"I want to lay my hands on a substantial shareholding in Kane's Boston
bank."

"You won't find that easy," said Henry.  "Most of the stock is held in
a family trust and cannot be sold without his personal concurrence. "

"You seem very well informed," said Abel.

"Common knowledge," said Henry.

Abel didn't believe him.  "Well, let's start by finding out the name
-of every shareholder in Kane and Cabot and see if any of them are
interested in parting with their stock at a price considerably above
par."

Abel watched Henry's eyes light up as he began to contemplate how Much
might be in this transaction for him if he could make a deal with both
sides.

"If he ever found out he'd play very rough," said Henry.

"He's not going to find out," said Abel.  "And even if he did, we'd be
at least two moves ahead of him.  Do you think you are capable of doing
the job?"

"I can try.  What did you have in mind?"

Abel realized that Henry was trying to find out what payment might
expf-ct, but he hadn't finished yet.  "I want a written report the
first day of every month showing Kane's share holdings in any company,
his business commitments and all details you can obtain of his private
life.

I want everything you come up with, however trivial it may seem."

"I repeat, that won't be easy," said Henry.

"Will a thousand dollars a month make the task easier?"

"Fifteen hundred certainly would," replied Henry.

"A thousand dollars a month for the first six months.  If you prove
yourself, I'll raise the figure to fifteen hundred."

"It's a deal," said Henry.

"Good," said Abel as he took his billfold from his inside pocket and
extracted a check already made out to cash for one thousand dollars.

Henry studied the check.  "You were pretty confident I would fall into
line, weren't you?"

"No, not altogether," said Abel as he removed a second check from his
billfold and showed it to Henry.  It was made out for fifteen hundred
dollars.  "If you come up with some winners in the first six months,
you'll only have lost three thousand overall."

Both men laughed.

"Now to a more pleasant subject," said Abel.  "Are we going to win?"

"The Cubs?"

"No, the ulection."

"Sure.  Landon is in for a whipping.  The Kansas Sunflower can't hope
to beat FDR," said Henry.  "As the President reminded us, that
particular flower is yellow, has a black heart, is useful as parrot
food and always dies before November."

Abel laughed again.  "And how about you personally?"

"No worries.  The seat has always been safe for the Democrats.  The
difficult thing was winning the nomination, not the election."

"I look forward to your being a congressman, Henry

"I'm sure you do, Abel.  And I look forward to serving you as well as
my other constituents."

Abel looked at him quizzically.  "Considerably better, I should hope,"
he commented as a sirloin steak that almost covered the plate was
placed in front of him while another glass was filled with a Cote de
Beaune 1929.

The rest of the lunch was spent discussing Gabby Hartnett's injury
problems, Jesse Owens's four gold medals at the Berlin Olympics and the
possibility that Hitler would invade Poland.

"Never," said Henry, and started to reminisce about the courage of
the

Poles at Mons in the Great War.

Abel didn't comment on the fact that no Polish regiment had seen action
at Mons.

At two thirty-seven, Abel was back at his desk considering the problems
of the Presidential Suite and the eight thousand fresh rolls.

He did not arrive home from the Baron that night until nine o'clock,
only to find Florentyna already asleep.  But she woke immediately as
her father entered the nursery and smiled up at him.

"Presidunk, Presidunk, Presidunk."

Abel smiled.  "Not me.  You perhaps, but not me."  He picked up his
daugNer and kissed her on the cheek and sat with her while she repeated
her one-word vocabulary over and over again.

IN NovENIBER 1930, Henry Osborne was elected to the United States House
of

Representatives for the Ninth District of Illinois.  His majority was
slightly smaller than his predecessor's, a fact that could be
attributed only to his laziness because Roosevelt had carried every
state except

Vermont and Maine, and in Congress the Republicans were down to 17
senators and 103 representatives.  But all that Abel cared about was
that his man had a seat in the House, and he immediately offered him
the chairmanship of the

Planning Committee of the Baron Group.  Henry gratefully accepted.

Abel channeled all his energy into building more and more hotels-with
the help of Congressman Osborne, who seemed able to fix building
permits wherever the Baron next desired.  The cash Henry required for
these favors was always paid in used bills.  Abel had no idea what
Henry did with the money, but it was evident that some of it had to be
failing into the right hands, and he had no wish to know the details.

Despite his deteriorating relationship with Zaphia, Abel still wanted a
son and began to despair when his wife failed to conceive.  He
initially blamed

Zaphia, who longed for a second child, and eventually she nagged him
into seeing a doctor.  Finally Abel agreed and was humiliated to learn
that he had a low sperm count: the doctor attributed this to early
malnutrition and told him that it was most unlikely he would ever
father again.  From that moment the subject was closed and Abel
lavished all his affection and hopes on Florentyna, who grew like a
weed.  The only thing in Abel's life that grew faster was the Baron
Group.  He built a new hotel in the North, and another in the South,
while modemizing and streamlining the older hotels already in the
Group.

At the age of four, Florentyna attended her first nursery school.  She
insisted that Abel and Franklin D. Roosevelt accompany her on the
opening day.  Most of the other girls were chaperoned by women who Abel
was surprised to discover were not always their mothers but often
nannies and, in one case, as he was gently corrected, a governess. That
night he told Zaphia that he wanted someone similarly qualified to take
charge of

Florentyna.

"What for?"  asked Zaphia sharply.

"So that no one in that school starts life with an advantage over our
daughter."

I think it's a stupid waste of money.  What would such a person be able
to do for her that I can't?"

Abel didn't reply, but the next morning he placed advertisements in
the

Chicago Tribune, The New York Times and the London Times, seeking
applicants for the post of governess, stating clearly the terms
offered.

Hundreds of replies came in from all over the country from highly
qualified women who wanted to work for the chairman of the Baron
Group.

Letters arrived from Radcliffe, Vassar and Smith; there was even one
from the Federal Reformatory for Women.  But it was the reply from a
lady who had obviously never heard of the Chicago Baron that intrigued
him most,

The Old Rectory Much Hadham

Hertfordshire 12 September 1938 Dear Sir,

In reply to your advertisement in the personal column on the frontpage
of today issue of The Times, I should like to be considered for the
post of governess to your daughter.

I am thirty-two years of age being the sixth daughter of the Very
Rev.

L. H. Tredgold and a spinster of the parish of Much Hadham in

Hertfordshire.  I am at present teaching in the local grammar school
and assisting my father in his work as Rural Dean.

I was educated at Cheltenham Ladies College, where I read Latin,
Greek,

French and English for my higher matriculation, before taking up a
closed scholarship to Newnham College, Cambridge.  At the University, I
sat my finals, gaining first class awards in all three parts of the
Modern Language tripos.  I do not hold a Bachelor of Arts degree from
the University, as their statutes preclude such awards for women.

I am available for interview at any time and I would welcome the
opportunity to work in the New World.

I look forward to your reply, while remaining your obedient ~ervanr,

W. Tredgold

Abel found it hard to accept that there was such an institution as

Cheltenham Ladies College or indeed such a place as Much Hadham, and he
was certainly suspicious of claims of firstclass awards without
degrees.

He asked his secretary to place a call to Washington.  When he was
finally put through to the person he wished to speak to, he read the
letter aloud.

The voice from Washington confirmed that every claim in the letter
could be accurate; there was no reason to doubt its credibility.

"Are you sure there really is an establishment called Cheltenham
Ladies

College?"  Abel insisted.

"Most certainly I am, Mr.  Rosnovski-I was educated there myself,"
replied the British ambassador's secretary.

That night Abel read the letter over again, this time to Zaphia.

"What do you think?"  he asked, although he had already made up his
mind.

"I don't like the sound of her," said Zaphia, not looking up from the
magazine she was reading.  "If we musk have someone, why can't she be
an

American?"

"Think of the advantages Florentyna would have if she were tutored by
an

English governess," Abel paused.  "She'd even be company for you."

This time Zaphia did look up from her magazine.  "Why?  Are you hoping
she'll educate me as well?"

Abel didn't reply.

The following morning he sent a cable to Much Hadharn offering Miss

Tredgold the position of governess.

Three weeks later when Abel went to pick up the lady from the
Twentieth

Century Limited at the La Salle Street Station, he knew immediately he
had made the right decision.  As she stood alone on the platform, three
suitcases of differing sizes and vintages by her side, she could not
have been anyone but

Miss Tredgold.  She was tall, thin and slightly imperious, and the bun
that crowned her head gave her fully two inches in height over her
employer.

Zaphia, however, treated Miss Tredgold as an kntruder who had come to
undermine her maternal position, and when she accompanied her to her
daughter's room, Florentyna was nowhere to be seen.  Two eyes peered
suspiciously up from under the bed.  Miss Tredgold spotted the girl
first and fell on her knees.

"I am afraid I won't be able to help you very much if you remain thete,
child.  I'm far too big to live under a bed."

Florentyna burst out laughing and crawled out.

"What a funny voice you have," she said.  "Where do you come from?"

"England," said Miss Tredgold, taking a seat beside her on the bed.

"Where's that?"

"About a week away."

"Yes, but how far?"

"That would depend on how you traveled during the week.  How many ways
could I have traveled such a long distance?  Can you think of three?"

Florentyna concentrated.  "From my house I'd take a bicycle and when
I'd reached the end of America, I'd take a .. ."

Neither of them noticed that Zaphia had left the room.

It was only a few days before Florentyna turned Miss Tredgold into the
brother and sister she could never have.

Florentyna would spend hours just listening to her new companion, and

Abel watched with pride as the middle-aged spinster-he could never
think of her as thirty-two, his own age taught his four-year-old
daughter subjects that ranged over areas he would have liked to know
more about himself.

Abel asked George one morning if he could name Henry VI III six
wives-if he couldn't, it might be wise for them to acquire two more
governesses from Cheltenham Ladies College before Florentyna ended up
knowing more than they did.  Zaphia did not want to know about Henry
VIII or his wives, and she still felt that Florentyna should be brought
up according to the simple Polish traditions that had been her own
education, but she had long since given up trying to convince Abel on
that subject.  Zaphia carried out a routine that made it possible for
her to avoid the new governess most of the day.

Miss Tredgold's daily routine, on the other hand, owed as much to die
discipline of a Grenadier Guard officer as to the

 W 27

teachings of Maria Montessori.  Florentyna rose at seven o'clock and
with a straight spine that never touched the back of her chair received
instruction in table manners and posture until she had left the
breakfast room.  Between seven-thirty and seven forty-five Miss
Tredgold would pick out two or three items from the Chicago Tribune,
read and discuss them with her and then question her on them an hour
later.  Florentyna took an immediate interest in what the President was
doing, perhaps because he seemed to be named after her bear.  Miss
Tredgold found she had to use a considerable amount of her spare time
diligently learning the strange

American system of government to be certain no question that her ward
might ask would go unanswered.

From nine to twelve, Florentyna and FDR attended nursery school, where
they indulged in the more normal pursuits of her contemporaries. When

Miss Tredgold came to pick her up each afternoon it was easy to discern
whether Florentyna had selected the clay, the scissors and paste or the
finger painting that day.  At the end of every play school session she
was taken straight home for a hath and a change of clothes with a "Tut,
tut" and an occasional I just don't know."

In the afternoon, Miss Tredgold and Florentyna would set off on some
expedition the governess had carefully planned that morning without

Florentyna's knowledge- although this didn't stop Florentyna from
always trying to find out beforehand what Miss Tredgold had arranged.

"What are we going to do today?"  or "Where are we going?"  Flo,rentyna
would demand.

"Be patient, child."

"Can we still do it if it rains?"

"Only time will tell.  But if we can't, be assured I shall have a
contingency plan."

"What's a 'tingency plan?"  asked Florentyna, puzzled.

"Something you need when everything else you have planned is no longer
possible," Miss Tredgold explained.

Among such afternoon expeditions were walks around the park, visits to
the zoo, even an occasional ride on the top of a trolley car, which

Florentyna considered a great treat.  Miss Tredgold also used the time
to give her charge the first introduction to a few words of French, and
she was pleasantly surprised to find that her ward showed a natural
aptitude for languages.  Once they had returned home, there would be
half an hour with Mama before dinner, followed by another bath before
Florentyna was tucked into bed by seven o'clock.  Miss Tredgold would
read a few lines from the Bible or Mark Twainnot that the Americans
seemed to know the difference, Miss Tredgold said in a moment of what
she imagined was frivolity-and having turned the nursery light out, she
sat with her charge and FDR until they had both fallen asleep.

This routine was slavishly adhered to and broken only on rare occasions
such as birthdays or national holidays, when Miss Tredgold allowed

Florentyna to accompany her to the United Artists Theater to see films
such as Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs but not before Miss Tredgold
had been to the show the previous week in order to ascertain that it
was suitable for her ward.  Walt Disney met with Miss Tredgold's
approval,.  as did Laurence

Olivier, playing Heathcliff pursued by Merle Oberon, whom she went to
watch three Thursdays running on her afternoon off at a cost of twenty
cents a showing.  She was able to convince herself it was worth sixty
cents; after all, Wuthering Heights was a classic.

Miss Tredgold never stopped Florentyna from asking questions about
the

Nazis, the New Deal and even a home run, although sometimes she
obviously didn't understand the answers.  The young girl soon
discovered that her mother was not always able to satisfy her
curiosity, and on several occasions Miss Tredgold, in order not to
render an inaccurate answer, had to disappear into her room and consult
the Encyclopaedia Britannica.

At the age of five Florentyna attended kindergarten at the Girls
Latin

School of Chicago, where within a week she was moved up a grade because
she was so far ahead of her contemporaries.  In her world everything
looked wonderful.  She had Mamma and Papa, Miss Tredgold and Franklin
D. Roosevelt, and as far as her horizon could reach, nothing seemed to
be unattainable.

Only the "best families," as Abel described them, sent their children
to the Latin School, and it came as something of a shock to Miss
Tredgold that when she asked some of Florentyna's friends back for tea,
the invitations were politely declined.  Florentyna's best friends,
Mary Gill and Susie

Jacobson, cam regularly; but some of the parents, of the other girls
would make excuses for not accepting, and Miss Tredgoid soon came to
realize that although the Chicago Baron might well have broken the
chains of poverty he was still unable to break into some of the better
drawing rooms in Chicago.

Zaphia did not help, making little effort to get to know the other
parents, let alone join any of their charity conirnittees, hospital
boards or the clubs to which so many of them seemed to belong.

Miss Tredgold did the best she could to help, but as she was only a
servant in the eyes of most of the parents, it was not easy for her.
She prayed that Flornentyna would never learn of these prejudices-but it
was not to be.

Florentyna sailed through the first grade, more than holding her own
academically with the group, and only her size reminded everyone that
she was a year younger.

Abel ww; too busy building up his own empire to give much thought to
his social standing or any problems Miss Tredgold might be facing.  The
Group was showing steady progress, with Abel looking well set by 1938
to be on target to repay the loan to his backer.  In fact, Abel was
predicting profits of $250,000 for the year, despite his massive
building program.

His real worries were not in the nursery or the hotels, but over four
thousand miles away in his beloved homeland.  His worst fears were
realized when on September 1, 1939, Hitler marched into Poland, and

Britain declared war on Germany two days later.  With the outbreak of
another war he seriously considered leaving control of the Baron Group
to Georgewho was turning out to be a trusty lieutenant- while he sailed
off to London to join the Polish regiment in exile.  George and Zaphia
managed to talk him out of the idea, so he concentrated instead on
raising cash and sending the money to the British Red Cross, while
lobbying Democratic politicians to join the war alongside the
British.

FDR needs all the friends he can get, Florentyna heard her father
declare one morning.

By the last quarter of 1939, Abel, with the help of a small loan from
the

First National Bank of Chicago, became the 100 percent owner of the
Baron

Group.  He predicted in the annual report that profits for 1940 would
be over half a million dollars.

Franklin D. Roosevelt-the one with the red eyes and the fluffy brown
fur-rarely left Florentyna's side even when she progressed to second
grade.  Miss Tredgold considered that perhaps the time had come to
leave

FDR at home.  In normal circumstances she would have insisted-there
might have been a few tears and the matter would have been resolved-but
against her better judgment she let the child have her own way, It was
a decision that turned out to be one of Miss Tredgold's rare
mistakes.

 30 the NODI GAL DAUGHTER

Every Monday, the Boys Latin School joined the Girls to be tutored in

French by the modern language teacher, Mme.  Mettinet.  For everyone
except

Florentyna, this was a first, painful introduction to the language.  As
the class chanted boucher, boulanger and ip icier after Madame,

Florentyna, more out of boredom than bravado, began holding a
conversation with FDR in French.  Her next-door neighbor, a tall,
rather lazy boy named Edward Winchester, who seemed unable to grasp the
difference between le and la, leaned over and told Florentyna to stop
showing off.  Florentyna reddened.  "I was only trying to explain to
FDR the difference between the masculine and the feminine."

"Were you?"  said Edward.  "Well, I'll show you the difference,
Mademoiselle

Know-All," and in a fit of fury he grabbed FDR and with all the
strength he could muster tore one of the bear's arms from its body.
Florentyna remained rooted to her seat in shock as Edward then took the
inkwell out of his desk and poured the contents over the bear's head.

Mme.  Mettinet, who had never approved of having boys in the same cls
as girls, rushed to the back of the room, but it was too late.  FDR was
already royal blue from head to toe and sat on the floor in the middle
of a circle of stuffing from his severed arm.  Florentyna grabbed her
favorite friend, tears diluting the puddled ink.  Mme.  Mettinet
marched

Edward to the headmaster's office and instructed the other children to
sit in silence until she returned,

Flornentyna crawled around the floor, trying hopelessly to put the
stuffing back into FDR, when a fair-haired girl Florentyna had never
liked leaned over and hissed, "Serves you right, stupid Polack."  The
class giggled at the girl's remark and some of them started to chant,
"Stupid Polack, stupid Polack, stupid Polack."  Florentyna clung to FDR
and prayed for

Mme.  Mettinet's return.

It seemed like hours, although it was only a few minutes, before the

French mistress reappeared, with Edward looking suitably crestfallen
following in her wake.  The chanting stopped the moment Mme.  Mettinet
entered the room, but Florentyna couldn't even make herself look up. In
the unnatural silence, Edward walked up to Florentyna and apologized in
a voice that was as loud as it was unconvincing.  He returned to his
seat and grinned at his classmates.

When Miss Tredgold picked up her charge from school that afternoon she
could hardly miss noticing that the child's face was red from crying
and that she walked with a bowed head, clinging onto blue-faced FDR by
his remaining arm.  Miss Tredgold coaxed the whole story out of
Florentyna before they reached home.  She then gave the child her
favorite supper of hamburger and ice cream, two dishes of which she
normally disapproved, and put her to bed early, hoping she would
quickly fall asleep.  After a futile hour with nail brush and soap
spent trying to clean up the indelibly stained bear, Miss Tredgold was
forced to concede defeat.  As she laid the damp animal by Flornentyna's
side, a small voice from under the bed covers said, "Thank you, Miss
Tredgold.  FDR needs all the friends he can get.

When Abel returned a little after 10 P.m.-he had taken to arriving home
late almost every night-Miss Tredgold sought a private mocting with
him.

Abel was surprised by the request and led her at once to his study.

During the eighteen months she had been in his employ, Miss Tredgold
had always reported the week's progress to Mr.  Rosnovski on Sundays
between 10 and 10:30 A m. when Zaphia accompanied Florentyna to Sunday
Mass at

Holy Name Cathedral.  Miss Tredgold's reports were always clear and
accurate; if anything, she had a tendency to underestimate the child's
achievements.

"What's the problem, Miss Tredgold?"  asked Abel, trying to sound
unworried.  With such a break in routine he dreaded the thought that
she might want to give her notice.  Miss Tredgold repeated the story of
what had taken place at school that day.

Abel became redder and redder in the face as the story progressed and
was scarlet before Miss Tredgold came to the end.

"Intolerable" was his first word.  "Florentyna must be removed
immediately.  I'll personally see Miss Allen tomorrow and tell her
exactly what I think of her and her school.  I'm sure you will approve
of my decision, Miss Tredgold."

"No, sir, I do not," came back an unusually sharp reply.

"I beg your pardon?"  said Abel in disbelief.

"I be lieN e you are as much to blame as the parents of Edward

Winchester."

"IT' said Abel.  "Why?"

"You should have told your daughter a long time ago the significance of
being Polish and how to deal with any problems that might arise because
of it.  You should have explained the American's deep-seated prejudice
against the Poles, a prejudice that in my own opinion is every bit as
reprehensible as the English attitude towards the Irish, and only a few
steps away from the Nazi's barbaric behavior towards the Jews."

Abel remained silent.  It was a long time since anyone had told him he
was wrong about anything.

"Do you have anything else to saT' he asked when he hady recovered.
"Yes, Mr.  Rosnovski.  If you remove Florentyna from Girls Latin, I
shall give my notice immediately.  If on the first occasion the child
encounters some problem you choose to run away from it, how can I hope
to teach her to cope with life?  Watching my own country at war because
we wanted to go on believing Hitler was a reasonable man, if slightly
misguided, I can hardly be expected to pass on the same misconstruction
of events to Florentyna.  It will be heartbreaking for me to have to
leave her, because I could not love

Florentyna more if she were my own child, but I cannot approve of
disguising the real world because you have enough money to keep the
truth conveniently hidden for a few more years.  I must apologize for
my frankness, Mr.

Rosnovski, as I feel I have gone too far, but I. cannot condemn other
people's prejudices while at the same time condoning yours."

Abel sank back into his seat before replying.  "Miss Tredgold~ you
should have been an ambassador, not a governess.  Of course you're
right.  What would you advise me to do?"

Miss Tredgold, who was still standing-she would never have dreamed of
sitting in her employer's presence unless she was with
Florentynahesitated.

"The child should rise thirty minutes earlier each day for the next
month and be taught Polish history.  She must learn why Poland is a
great nation and why the Poles were willing to challenge the might of
Germany when alone they could never have hoped for victory.  Then she
will be able to face those who goad her about her ancestry with
knowledge, not ignorance.  "

Abel looked her squarely in the eyes.  "I see now what George Bernard
Shaw meant when he said that you have to meet the English governess to
discover why Britain is great."

They both laughed.

"I'm surprised you don't want to make more of your life, Miss
Tredgold," said Abel, suddenly aware that what he had said might have
sounded offensive.  If it did, Miss Tredgold gave no sign of being
offended.

"My father had six daughters.  He had hoped for a boy, but it was not
to be."

"And what of the other five?"

"They are all married," she replied without bitterness.

"And you?"

"He once said to me that I was born to be a teacher and that the Lord's
plan took us all in its compass so perhaps I might teach someone who
does have a destiny."

"Let us hope so, Miss Tredgold."  Abel would have called her by her
first name, but he did not know what it was.  All he knew was that she
signed herse4f "W.  Tredgold" in a way that did not invite inquiries.
He smiled up at her.

"Will you join me in a drink, Miss Tredgold?"

"Thank you, Mr.  Rosnovski.  A little sherry would be most pleasant.
"

Abel poured her a dry sherry and himself a large whiskey.

"How bad is FDR?"

"Maimed for life, I fear, which will only make the child love him the
more.  In the future I have decided FDR must reside at howe and will
only travel when accompanied by me."

"You're beginning to sound like Eleanor talking about the President."

Miss TreAlgold laughed once more and sipped her.  sherry  "May I offer
one more suggestion concerning Flarentyna?"

"Certainly," said Abel, who proceeded to listen intently to Miss

Tredgold's recommendation.  By the time they had finished their second
drink, Abel had nodded his approval,

"Good," said Miss Tredgold.  "Then, with your permission, I will deal,
with that at the first possible opportunity."

"Certainl~," repeated Abel.  "Of course, when it comes to these morning
sessions.  it may not be practical for me to do a whole month without a
break."  Miss Tredgold was about to speak when bel added, "There may be
appointments that I cannot reschedule at such short notice.  As I am
sure you will understand."

"You must, Mr.  Rosnovski, do what you think best, and if you find
there is something more important than your daughter's future, I am
sure it-is she who will understand."

Abel knew when he was beaten.  He canceled all appointments outside

Chicago for a full month and rose each morning thirty minutes early.
Even

Zaphia approved of Miss Tredgold's idea.

The first (lay he started by telling Florentyna how he had been born in
a forest in Poland and adopted by a trapper's family and how later he
had been befriended by a great Baron who took him into his castle in
Slonim, on the Polish-Russian border.  "He treated me like his own
son,"

Abel told her.

As the days went by, Abel revealed to his daughter how his sister

Florentyna, after whom she had been named, joined him in the castle and
the way he discovered the Baron was his real father.

"I know, I know how you found out," cried Florentyna.

"How can you know, little one?"

"He only had one nipple," said Florentyna.  "It must be, it must be.
I've seen you in the bath.  You only have one nipple, so you had to be
his son.

All the boys at school have two .. .... Abel and Miss Tredgold stared
at the child in disbelief as she continued, but if I'm your daughter,
why have

I got two?"

"Because it's only passed from father to son and is almost unknown in
daughters."

"It's not fair.  I want only one,"

Abel began laughing.  "Well, perhaps if you have a son, he'll have only
one."

"Time for you to braid your hair and get ready for school," said Miss

Tredgold.

"But it's just getting exciting."

"Do as you are told, child."

Florentyna reluctantly left her father and went to the bathroom.

"What do you think is going to happen tomorrow, Miss Tredgold?"
Florentyna asked on the way to school.

"I have no idea, child, but as Mr.  Asquith once advised, wait and
see."

"Was Mi.  Asquith in the castle with Papa, Miss Tredgold?"

In the days that followed, Abel explained what life was like in a
Russian prison camp and what had caused him to limp.  He went on to
teach his daughter the stories the Baron had told him in the dungeons
over twenty years before.  Florentyna followed the stories of the
legendary Polish hero

Tadeusz Kosciuszko, and all the other great figures through to the
present day, while Miss Tredgold pointed to a map she had pinned on the
bedroom wall.

Abel finally explained to his daughter how he had come into possession
of the' silver band that he wore on his wrist.

"What does it say?"  demanded Florentyna, staring at the tiny engraved
letters.

"Try to read the words, little one," said Abet.

"Bar-on Ab-el Ros-nov-ski," she stuttered out.  "But that's your name,"
she insisted.

"And it was my father's."

After a few more days, Flornentyna could answer all her father's
questions, even if Abel couldn't always answer all of hers.

At school, Florentyna daily expected Edward Winchester to pick on her
again, but he seemed to have forgotten the incident, and on one
occasion even offered to share an apple with her.

Not everyone in the class, however, had forgotten, and one girl in
particular, a fat, rather dull classmate, took special pleasure in
whispering the words "Stupid Polack" within her hearing.

Florentyna did not retaliate immediately, but waited until some weeks
later when the girl, having come in at the bottom of the class in a
history test while Florentyna came in at the top, announced, "At
least

I'm not a Polack."  Edward Winchester frowned, but some of the class
giggled.

Florentyna waited for total silence before she spoke.  "True.  You're
not a Polack; you're a third-generation American, with a history that
goes back about a hundred years.  Mine can be traced for a thousand,
which is why you are at the bottom in history and I am at the top."

No one in the class ever referred to the subject again.  When Miss

Tredgold heard the story on the way home, she smiled to herself.

"Shall we tell Papa this evening?"

"No, my dear.  Pride has never been a virtue.  There are some occasions
on which it is wise to remain silent."

The six-year-old girl nodded thoughtfully before asking: "Do you think
a Pole could ever be President of the United States?"

"Certainly, if the American people can overcome their own prejudice."

"And how about a Catholic?"

"That will become irrelevant, even in my lifetime."

"And a woman?"  added Florentyna.

"That might take a little longer, child."

That night, Miss Tredgold reported to Mr.  Rosnovski that his lessons
had proved worthwhile.

"And when will you carry out the second part of your plan, Miss
Tredgold?"

Abel asked.

"Tomorrow," she replied, smiling.

At three-thirty the following afternoon Miss Tredgold was standing on
the corner of the street waiting for her ward to finish school.
Florentyna came chattering out through the gates and they had walked
for several blocks before she noticed that they were not taking their
usual route home.

"Where are we going, Miss Tredgold?"

"Patience, child, and all will be revealed."

Miss Tredgold smiled while Florentyna seemed more concerned with
telling her how well she had done in an English test that morning, a
monologue she kept up all the way to Menomonee Street, where Miss
Tredgold began to take more interest in the numbers an the doors than
in Florentyna's real and imagined achievements.

At last they came to a halt outside a newly painted red door which
displayed the number 218.  Miss Tredgold rapped on the door twice with
her gloved knuckle.  Florentyna stood by her side, silent for the first
time since leaving school.  A few moments passed before the door opened
to reveal a man dressed in a gray sweater and blue jeans.

"I've come in response to your advertisement in the Sun," Miss Tredgold
said before the man had a chance to speak.

"Ah, yes," he replied.  "Will you come in?"

Miss Tredgold entered the house followed by a puzzled Florentyna.  They
were conducted through a narrow hall covered in photographs and
multicolored rosettes before reaching the back door, which led out onto
a yard.

Florentyna saw them immediately.  They were in a basket on the far si&
of the yard and she ran toward them.  Six yellow Labrador puppies
snuggled up close to their mother.  One of them left the warmth of the
clan and limped out of the basket toward Florcittyna.

"This one's lame," said Florentyna, immediately picking up the puppy
and studying the animal's leg.

"Yes, I'm afraid so," admitted the breeder.  "But there are still five
others in perfect condition for you to choose from."

"What will happen if nobody takes her?"

"I suppose .. ."  The breeder hesitated.  She will have to be Put to
sleep."

Florentyna stared desperately at Miss Tredgold as she clung to the dog,
wiio was busily licking her face.

"I want this one," said Florentyna without hesitation, fearful of
Miss

Tredgold's reaction.

"How much will that be?"  asked Miss Tredgold as she opened her
purse.

"No charge, ma'am.  I'm happy to see that one go to a good home."

"Thank you," said Florentyna.  "Thank you."

The puppy's tail never stopped wagging all the way to its new home
while to Miss Tredgold's surprise Florentyna's tongue never wagged
once.  In fact, she didn't let go of her new pet until she was safely
back inside the family kitchen.  Zaphia and Miss Tredgold watched as
the young

Labrador limped across the kitchen floor toward a bowl of warm milk.

"She reminds me of Papa," said Florentyna.

"Don't be impertinent, child," said Miss Tredgold.

Zaphia stifled a smile.  "Well, Florentyna, what are you going to call
her?"

"Eleanor."

THE FIRS r TIME Florentyna ran for President was in 1940 at the age of
six.  Miss Evans, her teacher in second grade.  decided to hold a mock
election.  The boys from the Latin School were invited to j~)in the
contest, and Edward Winchester, whom Florentyna had never quite
forgiven for pouring blue ink over her bear, was chosen to run as the
surrogate

Mr.  Wendell L. Willkie.  Florentyna naturally ran as FDR.

It was agreed that each candidate would give a five-minute talk to the
remaining twenty-seven members of the two classes.  Miss Tredgold,
without wishing to influence Florentyna, listened to her deliver her
oration thirty-one times-or was it thirty-two?--as she remarked to Mr.
Rosnovski the Sunday morning before the great election.

Florentyna read the political columns of the Chicago Tribune out loud
each day to Miss Tredgold, searching for any scrap of information she
could add to her speech.  Kate Smith seemed to be singing "God Bless

America" everywhere and the Dow Jorics Index had passed 150 for the
first time: whatever that was, it seemed to favor the incumbent.
Florentyna also read about the progress of the war in Europe and the
launching of a 36,600-ton U.S. battleship 4ashingion, the first
fighting vessel

America had built in nineteen years.

"Why are we building a battleship if the President has promised that
the

American people will never have to go to war?"

"I presunic it's in the best interest of our own defense," suggested
Miss

Tredgold, who was furiously knitting socks for the boys back home.
"Just in case the Germans decide to attack us.  "

"They wouldn't dare," said Florentyna.

The day that Trotsky was slain with a pickaxe in Mexico,

Miss Tredgold kept the paper away from her charge, while on another
morning she was quite unable to explain what nylons were and why the
first 72,000 were sold out in eight hours, the shops limiting the sale
to two pairs per customer.

Miss Tredgold, whose legs were habitually clad in beige lisle stockings
of a shade optimistically entitled "Allure," studied the item
frowningly.

"I'm sure I shall never wear nylons," she declared, and indeed she
never did.

When Election Day came, Florentyna's head was crammed with facts and
figures, some of which she did not understand, but they gave her the
confidence to feel she would win.  The only problem that still
concerned her was that Edward was bigger than she was.  Florentyna
imagined that this was a definite advantage as she had read that
twenty-seven of the thirty two

Presidents of the United States had been taller than their rivals.

The two contestants tossed a newly minted Jefferson nickel to decide
the order of speaking.  Fiorentyna won and chose to speak first, a
mistake she never made again in her life.  She walked to the front of
the class, a frail figure, and mindful of Miss Tredgold's final words
of advice-"Stand up straight, child.  Remember you're not a question
mark"-she stood bolt upright in the center of the raised wooden
platform in front of Miss Evans s desk and waited to be told she could
begin.  Her first few sentences came choking out.  She explained her
policies for ensuring that the nation's finances remained stable while
at the same time promising to keep the

United States out of the war.  "There is no need for one American to
die because the nations of Europe cannot stay at peace," she declared-a
sentence from one of Mr.  Roosevelt's speeches that she had learned by
heart.  Mary Gill started to applaud, but Florentyna took no notice and
went on talking while, at the ~same time, pushing her dress down
nervously with damp hands.  Her last few sentences came out in a great
rush, and she sat down to a lot of clapping and smiles.

Edward Winchester rose to follow her, and a few of the boys from his
class cheered him as he walked up to the blackboard.  It was the first
time

Florentyna realized that some of the votes had been decided even before
the speeches began.  She only hoped that was true for her side as well.
Edward told his.  classmates that winning at kick ball was the same as
winning for your country, and in any case Willkie stood for all the
things that their parents believed in.  Did they want to vote against
the wishes of their fathers and mothers?  Because if they did support

FDR they would lose everything.  This line was greeted with a splutter
of applause, so he repeated it.  At the end of his speech, Edward was
also rewarded with claps and smiles, but Florentyna convinced herself
they were no louder or wider than hers had been.

After Edward had sat down, Miss Evans congratulated both candidates and
asked the twenty-seven voters to take a blank page from their notebooks
and write down the name of Edward or Florentyna, according to who they
felt should be President.  Pens dipped furiously into inkwells,
scratched across paper.  Voting slips, were blotted, folded, and then
passed forward to Miss

Evans.  When the teacher had received the last one, she began to unfold
the little rectangles and place them in front of her in separate piles,
a process that see tried to take hours.  The whole clacssroom remained
silent throughout the count, which in itself was an unusual event. Once
Miss Evans had completed the unfoldin", she counted the twenty-seven
sheets of paper slowly and carefully, and then double-checked them.

"The result of the mock election"-Florentyna held her breath-"for
President of the United States is thirteen votes for Edward
Winchester"-Florentyna nearly cheered: she had won----~'and twelve
votes for Florentyna Rosnovski.

Two people.  left their papers blank, which is called abstaining."
Florentyna couldn't believe it.  "I therefore declare Edward
Winchester, representing Wendell Willkie, to be the new President.  "

It was the only election FDR lost that year, but Florentyna was unable
to disguise her disappointment and ran to hide in the girls' locker
room to be sure.  no one could see her crying.  When she came out she
found Mary Gill and

Susie Jacobson waiting for her.

"It doesn't matter," said Florentyna, trying to put a brave face on the
result.  "At least I know.  both of you supported me."

"We couldn't."

"Why couldn't you?"  asked Florentyna in disbelief.

"We didn't want Miss Evans to know that we weren't sure how to spell
your name," said Mary.

On the way home, after Miss Tredgold had heard the story seven times,
she made so bold a8 to ask if the child had learned anything from the
exercise.

"Oh, yes."  replied Flornentyna emphatically.  "I'm going to marry a man
with a very simple name."

Abel laughed when he heard the story that night and repeated it to
Henry Osborne over dinner.  "Better keep your eye on her, Henry,
because it won't be long before she's after your seat."

"I've got fifteen years before she can vote, and by then I'll be ready
to hand the constituency over to her."

"What are you doing about convincing the International Relations

Committee that we ought to be in this war?"

"FDR will do nothing until the result of the election is known.
Everybody is aware of that, including Hitler."

"If that's so, I only pray that Britain won't lose before we join in
because America will have to wait until November to confirm FDR-as

President."

During the year Abel broke ground on two more hotels, in Philadelphia
and

San Francisco, and had begun his first project in Canada, the
Montreal

Baron.  Although his thoughts were rarely far from the success of the

Group, something else still remained on his mind.

He wanted to be in Europe, and it wasn't to build hotels.

At the end of the fall term, Florentyna got her first spanking.  In
later life she always associated this with snow.  Her classmates
decided to build a massive snowman, and each.  member of the class had
to bring something with which to decorate him.  The snowman ended up
with raisin eyes, a carrot nose, potato ears, an old pair of garden
gloves, a cigar and a hat supplied by Florentyna.  On the last day of
the term all the parents were invited to view the snowman, and many of
them remarked on its hat.  Florentyna beamed with pride until her
father and mother arrived.  Zaphia burst out laughing, but Abel was not
amused at the sight of his fine silk topper on the head of a grinning
snowman. Once they had arrived home, Florentyna was taken to her
father's study and given a long lecture on the irresponsibility of
taking things that did not belong to her.  Abel bent her over his knee
and gave her three hard slaps with a hairbrush.

That Saturday night was one she would never forget.

That Sunday morning was one America would always remember.

The Rising Sun appeared over Pearl Harbor on the wings of hostile
aircraft and crippled the U.S. battle fleet, virtually wiping out the
base and killing 2,403 Americans.  The United States declared war on
Japan the following day and on Germany three days later.

Abel immediately summoned George to inform him that he was going to
join the American forces before they sailed for Europe.

George protested, Zaphia pleaded, and Fiorentyna cried.  Miss Tredgold
did not venture an opinion.

Abel knew he had to settle one final thing before leaving America.  He
called for Henry.

"Did you spot the announcement in The Wall Street Journal, Henry?  I
nearly missed it myself because of all the news about Pearl Harbor."

"You mean the merger of Lester's with Kane and Cabot, which I predicted
in last month's report?  Yes, I already have the full details."  Henry
took a file from his briefcase and passed it to Abel.  I guessed that
was what you wanted to see me about."

Abel flipped through the file until he found the relevant article,
which

Henry had underlined in red.  He read the paragraph twice and then
started to tap his fingers on the table.  "The first mistake Kane has
made."

"I think you may be right," said Henry.

"You're earning your fifteen hundred dollars a month, Henry."

"Perhaps it's time to make it two thousand."

"Why?"

"Because of Article Seven of the new bank's rules."

"Why do you think he allowed the new clause to be inserted in the first
pi ace  said Abel.

"To protect himself.  It has obviously never occurred to Mr.  Kane that
someone might be trying to destroy him, but by exchanging all his
shares in Kane and Cabot for the equivalent Lester shares he's lost
control of one bank and not gained control of the new one because
Lester's is so much larger.  While he only holds eight percent of the
shares in the new venture, he has insisted on that clause to be sure he
can stop any transaction for twelve months, including the appointment
of a new chairman."

"So all we have to do is get hold of eight percent of Lester's stock
and use his own specially inserted clause against him as and when it
suits us."  Abel paused.  "I don't imagine that will be easy.  "

"That's why I've asked you for a raise."

Abel found the task of being accepted to serve in the armed forces
considerably more difficult than he had at first imagined.  The army
was none too polite about his sight, his weight, his heart or his
general physical condition.  Only after some string pulling did he
manage to secure a job as a quartermaster with the Fifth Army under

General Mark Clark, who was waiting to sail to Africa.  Abel jumped at
the one chance to be involved in the war and disappeared to officer
candidate school.  Misis Tredgold did not realize until he had left
Rigg Street how much Florentyna was going to miss her father.  She
tried to convince the child that the war would not last long, but she
did not believe her own words.  Miss Tredgold had read too much
history.

Abel returned from training school as a major, slimmer and
younger-looking, but Florentyna hated seeing her father in uniform,
because everyone else she knew in uniform was going away to somewhere
beyond Chicago and they never seemed to come back.  In April 1942, Abel
waved goodbye and left New York on the S.S. Bonnguen.  Florentyna, who
was still only seven, was convinced goodbye meant forever.  Mother
assured her daughter that Papa would return home very quickly.

Like Miss  Tredgold, Zaphia did not believe that-and this time neither
did Florentyna.

When Florentyna progressed to the fourth grade she was appointed
secretary of' her class, which meant she kept the weekly minutes of
class meetings.  When she read her report aloud to the rest of the
class each week, no one in the fourth grade showed much interest, but
in the heat and dust of Algiers, Abel, torn between laughter and tears,
read each line of his daughter's earnest work as if it were the latest
best-seller.

Florentyna's most recent fad, much approved of by Miss Tredgold, was
the

Brownie scouts, which allowed her to wear a uniform like her father.
Not only did she enjoy dressing up in the smart bs)wn outfit.  but she
soon discovered she could cover the sleeves with different-colored
badges for such enterprises as varied as helping in the kitchen to
collecting used stamps.  Florentyna was awarded so many badges, so
quickly, that Miss

Tredgold was kept hard at it sewing them on and trying to find a new
space for each one.  Knots, cooking, gymnastics, animal care,
handicrafts, stamps, hiking, followed quickly one after the other.  "It
would have been easier if you had been an octopus," said Miss Tredgold.
But final victory was to be hers when her charge won a badge for
needlework and had to sew the little yellow triangle on for herself.

When Florentyna progrond to the fifth grade, where the two schools
joined together for most classes, Edward Win chester was appointed
president of his class, mainly because of his feats on the soccer
field, while Florentyna held the post of secretary despite having
better grades than anyone else including Edward.

Her only disasters were in geometry, where she came in second, and in
the art room.  Miss Tredgold always enjoyed re-reading Florentyna's
reports and positively relished the remarks of the art teacher.
"Perhaps if Florentyna splashed more paint on the paper than on
everything that surrounded it, she might hope to become an artist
rather than a house painter."

But the line Miss Tredgold would never forget was written by
Fiorentyna's homeroom teacher: "This pupil mustn't cry when she is
second."

As the months passed, Florentyna became aware that many of the children
in her class had fathers involved in the war.  She soon discovered that
hers was not the only home that had to face separation.  Miss Tredgold
enrolled

Florentyna in ballet and piano lessons to keep every moment of her
spare time occupied.  She even allowed her to take Eleanor to the K-9
Corps as a useful pet, but the Labrador was sent home because she
limped.  Flornentyna wished they would do the same to her father.  When
the summer holidays came,

Miss Tredgold, with the approval of Zaphia, extended their horizons to
New

York and Washington, despite the travel restrictions imposed by the
war.

Zaphia took advantage of her daughter's absence to attend fund-raising
meetings in aid of Polish soldiers returning from the front.

Florentyna was thrilled by her first trip to New York even though she
had to leave Eleanor behind.  There were skyscrapers, big department
stores,

Central Park and more people than she had ever seen before; but despite
all the excitement, it was Washington she most wanted to visit.  The
journey was

Florentyna's first in an airplane, and Miss Tredgold's as well, and as
the plane followed the line of the Potomac River into Washington's
National

Airport, Florentyna stared down in awe at the White House, the
Washington

Monumen~, the Lincoln Memorial, and the as yet unfinished Jefferson
building.  She wondered if it would be a memorial or a monument and
asked

Miss Tredgold to explain the difference.  Miss Tredgold hesitated and
said they would have to look up the two words in Webster's dictionary
when they returned to Chicago, as she wasn't certain there was a
difference.  It was the first time that Florentyna realized that Miss
Tredgold didn't know everything.

"It's just like in the pictures," she said as she stared down out of
the tiny airplane window at the Capitol.

"What did you expect?"  said Miss Tredgold.

Henry Osborne had organized a special visit to the White House and a
chance to watch the Senate and House in session.  Once she entered the
gallery of the Senate Chamber, Florentyna was mesmerized as each
senator rose at his desk to speak.  Miss Tredgold had to drag her away
as one might a boy from a football game, but it didn't stop her
continually asking Henry Osborne more and more questions.  He was
surprised by the knowledge the nine-year-old girl already possessed
even if she was the daughter of the Chicago Baron.

Flornentyna and Miss Tredgold spent the night at the Willard Hotel.  Her
father had not yet built a Baron in Washington, although Congressman

Osborne assured them that one was in the pip eli in fact, he added, the
site had already been fixed.

"What does 'fixed' mean, Mr.  Osborne?"

Florentyna received no satisfactory reply either from Henry Osborne or
from Miss Tredgold, and decided to look that up in Webster's dictionary
as well.

That night Miss Tredgold tucked the child into a large hotel bed and
left the room assuming that after such a long day her charge would
quickly fall asleep.  Florentyna waited for a few minutes before
switching the light back on.  She then retrieved her guide to the White
House from under the pillow.  FDR in a black cloak stared up at her.
"There can be no greater calling than public service" was printed
boldly on the line underneath his name.  She read the booklet twice
through, but it was the final page that fascinated her most.  She
started to memorize it and fell asleep a few minutes after one, the
light still on.

During the return flight home Florentyna again carefully studied the
last page while Miss Tredgold read of the progress of the war in the

Washington Times-Herald.  Italy had virtually surrendered, although it
was clear that the Germans still believed they could win.  Florentyna
didn't interrupt Miss Tredgold's reading once between Washington and
Chicago, and the governess wondered, because the child was so quiet, if
she was exhausted from the travel.  On returning home she allowed
Florentyna to go to bed early but not before she had written a
thank-you letter to

Congressman Osborne.  When Miss Tredgold came to put the light out,

Florentyna was still studying the guide to the White House.

It was exactly ten-thirty when Miss Tredgold went down to the kitchen
to make her nightly cup of cocoa before retiring.  On returning she
heard what sounded like a chant.  She tiptoed slowly to Florentyna's
bedroom door and stood alert, listening to the firmly whispered
words:

"One, Washington; two, Adams; three, Jefferson; four, Madison."  She
went through every President without a mistake.  "Thirly-one, Hoover;
thirty-two,

FDR; thirty-three, Unknown,thirty-four, Unknown; thirty-five,
thirty-six, thirty-seven, thirty-eight, thirty-nine, forty, forty one
Unknown; forty-two ."  There was a moment's silence, then: "One,
Washington; two, Adams; three, Jefferson .. ."  Miss Tredgold tiptoed
back to her room and lay awake for some time staring at the ceiling,
her untouched cocoa going cold beside her as she recalled her father's
words: "You were born to be a teacher and the Lord's plan takes us all
in its compass; perhaps you will teach someone of destiny."  The
President of the United States, Florentyna Rosnovski?  No, thought Mi,"
Tredgold, Florentyna was right: she would have to marry someone with a
simple name.

Florentvna rose the next morning, bade Miss Tredgold bonjour and
disappeared into the bathroom.  After feeding Eleanor, who now seemed
to eat more than she did, Florentyna read in the Chicago Tribune that
FDR and

Churchill had conferred on the unconditional surrender of Italy and
told her mother joyfully that that meant Papa would be home soon.

Zaphia said she hoped she was right and commented to Miss Tredgold how
well she thought Florentyna was looking.  "And how did you enjoy
Washington, my dear?"

"Very much, Mama.  I think I'll live there one day."

"Why, Florentyna.  what would you do in Washington?"

Florentyna looked up and met Miss Tredgold's eyes.  She hesitated for a
few seconds and then turned back to her mother.  "I don't know, I just
thought

Washington was a nice city.  Would you please pass the marmalade,
Miss

Tredgold?"  FL OREN-I-(NA COULDN'T BE SURE how many of her weekly
letters were reaching hor father because they had to be mailed to a
depot in New York for checking before they were sent on to wherLver
Major Rosnovski was stationed at the time.

The replies came back spasmodically, and sometimes Florentyna would
receive as many as three letters in one week and then no word for three
months.  If a whole month passed without a letter, she began to believe
her father had been killed in action.  Miss Tredgold explained that
that was not possible since the army always sent a telegram to inform a
family if a relative was killed or missing.  Each morning, Florentyna
would be the first to go downstairs to search through the mail for her
father's handwriting or the dreaded telegram.  When she did receive a
letter from her father she often found that some of the words were
blocke,l out with black ink.  She tried holding them up to the light
over the breakfast table but still she couldn't decipher them.  Miss
Tredgold told her that this vias for her father's own safety, as he
might inadvertently have written something that could be us Jul to the
enemy if the letter fell into the Wrong Hands.

"Why would the Germans be interested in the fact that I am second in
g(ometry?"  asked Florentyna.

Miss Tred8old ignored the question and asked if she had enough to
eat.

"I'd like another bit of toast."

"A piece, child, a piece.  A bit is something you put in a horse's
mouth."

Every six months Miss Tredgold would take her charge, accompaniol by

Eleanor, to Monroe Street to sit on a high stool with the dog on a box
by her side, to smile at a flashbulb so that

Major Rosnovski could watch his daughter and the Labrador grow up by
photograph.

"We can't have him not recognizing his only child when he returns home,
can we?"  she declared.

Florentyrra would print her age and Eleanor's age in dog years firmiy
on the back of each photo and in a letter add the details of her
progress at school, how she enjoyed tennis and swimming in the summer
and volleyball and basketball in the winter, also how her bookshelves
were stacked with his old cigar boxes full of butterflies caught in a
wonderful net that Mama had given her for Christmas.  She added that
Miss Tredgold had carefully chloroformed the butterflies before she
pinned them and Identified each one with its Latin name.  How her
mother had joined some charity committee and started taking an interest
in the Polish League for Women.  How she was growing vegetables in her
victory garden, how she and Eleanor didn't like tire meat shortage but
that she liked bread-and-butter pudding, while

Eleanor preferred crunchy biscuits.  She always ended each I etter the
same way: "Please come home tomorrow.  "

The war stretched into 1944, and Florentyna followed the progress of
the

Allies in the Chicago Tribune and by listening to Edward R. Murrow's
reports from London on the radio.  Eisenhower became her idol and she
nursed a secret admiration for General George Patton because he seemed
to be a little bit like her father.  On the sixth of June, the invasion
of Western

Europe was launched.  Florentyna imagined that her father was on the
beachhead and she was unable to understand how he could possibly hope
to survive.  She followed the Allies in their drive toward Paris on the
map of

Europe that Miss Tredgold had pinned to the playroom wall during the
days of her lessons in Polish history.  She began to believe that the
war was at last coming to an end and that her father would soon return
home.

She took to sitting hour after hour on the doorstep of their house on
Rigg

Street with Eleanor by her side, watching the corner of the block.  But
the hours turned into days, the days into weeks, and Florentyna only
became distracted from her vigil by the fact that both Presidential
conventions were to be held in Chicago during the summer vacation,
which gave her the opportunity to see her political hero in person.

The Republicans chose Thomas E. Dewey as their candidate in June, and
later in July the Democrats again selected Roosevelt.  Congressman
Osborne took

Florentyna along to the

Amphitheater to hear the President make his acceptance speech to the
convention.  She was puzzled by the fact that whenever she saw
Congressman

Osborne, he was accompanied by a different woman.  She must ask Miss

Trrdgold about that; she would be sure to have an explanation.  After
the candidate's speech, Florentyna stood in a long line waiting to
shake hands with the President, but she was so nervous that she didn't
look up as he was wheeled by.

It was the most exciting day of her life, and on the walk home she
confided her interest in politics to Congressman Osborne.  He did not
point out to her that despite the war there wasn't a woman sitting in
the

Senate, and there were only two women in Congress.

In November, Florentyna wrote to her father to tell him something she
imagined he hadn't heard.  FDR had won a fourth term.  She w&ted months
for his reply.

And then the telegram came.

Miss Tredgold could no extract the missive before the child spotted the
sin all buff envelope.  The governess immediately carried the telegram
to

Mrs.  Rosnovski in the drawing room with a trembling Florentyna
following in her wake, holding on to her skirt, with Eleanor a pace
behind them.

Zaphia tore the envelope open with nervous fingers, read the contents,
and burst into hysterical tears.  "No, no," Florentyna cried, "it can't
be true, Mama.  Tell me he's only missing," and snatched the telegram
from her speechless mother to read the contents.  It read: "DEMOB
PAPERS ISSUED.  HOME SOONEST.  LOVE ABEL."  Florentyna let OUt a whoop
of joy and jumped on the back of Miss Tredgold, who fell into a chair
that normally she would never have sat in.  E'leanor, as if aware the
usual codes could be broken, also jumped on the chair and started
licking both of them while Zaphia burst out laughing.

Miss Tredgold could not convince Florentyna that soonest might turn out
to take some time since the army conducted a rigid system in deciding
who should come home first, awarding points to those who had served the
longest or had been wounded in battle.  Florentyna remained optimistic,
but the weeks passed slowly.

One evening, when she was returning home clutching yet another Brownie
badge, this time for lifesaving, she spotted a light shining through a
small window that had not been lit for over three yeiirs.  She forgot
her lifesaving achievement immediately, ran all the way down the
street, and had nearly beaten the door down before Miss Tredgold came
to answer it.  She dashed upstairs to her father's study, where she
found him deep in conversation with her mother.  She threw her arms
around him and would not let go until finally he pushed her back to
take a careful look at his ten-year-old daughter.

"You're so much more beautiful than your photographs."

"And you're in one piece, Papa."

"Yes, and I won't be going away again."

"Not without me, you won't," said Florentyna, and clung on to him once
more.

For the next few days, she pestered her father to tell her stories of
the war.  Had he met General Eisenhower?  No.  General Patton'!  Yes,
for about ten minutes.  General Bradley?  Yes.  Had he seen any
Germans?  No, but on one occasion he had helped to rescue wounded
soldiers that had been ambushed by the enemy at Remagen.

"And what happened-?"

"Enough, enough, young lady.  You're worse than a staff sergeant on
drill parade."

Florentyna was so excited by her father's homecoming that she was an
hour late for bed that night and still didn't sleep.  Miss Tredgold
reminded her how lucky she was that her Papa had returned without
injury or disfigurement, unlike so many fathers of the children in her
class.

When Florentyna heard that Edward Winchester's father had lost an arm
at somewhere called Bastogne, she tried to tell him how sorry The
was.

Abel quickly returned to the routine of his work.  No one recognized
him when he first strode into the Chicago Baron: he had lost so much
weight and looked so thin that the duty manager asked him who he was.
The first decision Abel had to make was to order five new suits from
Brooks

Brothers because none of his pre-war clothes fitted him.

George Novak, as far as Abel could deduce from the annual reports he
had been through, had kept the Group on an even keel in his absence,
even if he had taken no great strides forward.  It was also from George
that he learned that Henry Osborne had been re-elected to Congress for
a fifth term.  He asked his secretary to call Washington.

"Congratulations, Henry.  Consider yourself elected to the board."

"Thank you, Abel.  You'll be glad to learn," said Henry,

"that I have acquired six percent of Lester's stock while you've been
away rustling up gourmet dinners on Primus stoves for our top military
brass."

"Well done, Henry.  What hope is there of getting our hands on the
magic eight percent?"

"A very good chance," replied Henry.  "Peter Parfitt, who expected to
be chairman of Lester's before Kane arrived on the scene, has been
removed from the board and has about as much affection for Kane as a
mongoose has for a rattlesnake.  Parfitt has made it very clear that he
is willing to part with his two percent."

"Then what's stopping, us

"He's demanding a million dollars for his holding, because I'm sure
he's worked out that his shares are all you need to topple Kane, and
there are not many stockholders left for me to buy from.  But a million
is way above the ten percent over current stock value that you
authorized me to proceed at."

Abel studied the figures that Henry had left for him on his desk.
"Offer him seven hundred and fifty thousand" was all he said.

George was thinking about far smaller sums when he next spoke to
Abel.

"I allowed Henry a loan in your absence, and he still hasn't paid the
money back," he admitted.

"A loan?"

"Henry's description, not mine," said George.

"Who's kidding who?  How much?"  said Abel.

"Five thousand dollars.  I'm sorry, Abel."

"Forget it.  If that's the only mistake you've made in the last three
years, I'm a lucky man.  What do you irvagine Henry spends the money
on?"

"Wine, women and song.  There's nothing particularly original about our
congressman, There's also a rumor around the Chicago bars that he's
started gambling quite heavily."

"That's all I need from the latest member of the board.  Keep an eye on
him and let inc know if the situation gets any worse."

George nodded.

"And now I want to talk about expansion.  With Washington pumping three
hundred million dollars a week into the economy, we must be prepared
for a boom the like of which America has never experienced before.  We
must also start building Barons in Europe while land is cheap and most
people are only thinking about survival.  Let's begin with London."

"For God's sake, Abel, the place is as flat as a pancake."

"All the better to build on, my dear."

"Miss Tredgold," said Zaphia, "I'm going to a fashion show this
afternoon, a benefit for the Chicago Symphony Orchestra, and I might
not be back before Florentyna's bedtime."

"Very good, Mrs.  Rosnovski," said Miss Tredgold.

"I'd like to go," said Florentyna

Both women stared at the child in surprise.

"But it's only two days before your exams," said Zaphia, anticipating
that Miss 'rredgold would thoroughly disapprove if Florentyna attended
something as frivolous as a fashion show.  "What are you meant to be
doing this afternoon?"

"Medieval history," replied Miss Tredgold without hesitation.

"Charlemagne through to the Council of Trent."

Zaphia was sad that her daughter was not being allowed to take an
interest in feminine pursuits but rather was expected to act as a
iurrogate son, filling the gap for her husband's disappointment ai not
having a boy.

"Then perhaps we'd better leave it for another time," she said.  Zaphia
would have insisted her daughter accompany her but realized that if
Abel found out, both she and Florentyna would suffer for it later.
However, for once Miss Tredgold surprised her.

"I am not sure I agre with you, Mrs.  Rosnovski," she said.  "The
occasion might well be the ideal one to introduce the child to the
world of fashion and indeed of society."  Turning to Florentyna, she
added, "And a break from your studies a few days before exams can do
you no harm."

Zaphia looked at Miss Tredgold with new respect.  "Perhaps you would
like to come yourself?"  she added.  It was the first time Zaphia had
seen Miss

Tredgold blush.

"No, thank you, no, I couldn't possibly."  She hesitated.  "I have
letters, yes, letters to attend to, and I've set aside this afternoon
to pen them."

That afternoon, Zaphia was waiting by the main school gate dressed in a
pink suit in place of the usual Miss Tredgold in sensible navy.

Florentyna thought her mother looked extremely smart.

She, wanted to run all the way to the Drake Hotel, where the fashion
show was being held, and when she actually all ived she found it hard
to remain still even though her seat was in the front row.  She could
have touched the haughty models as they picked their way gracefully
down the brilliantly lit catwalk.

As the pleated skirts swirled and dipped, tight-wasted jackets were
taken off to reveal elegantly bare shoulders, and sophisticated ladies
in floating yards of pale organza topped with silk hats drifted
silently to unknown assignations behind a red velvet curtain.
Florentyna sat entranced.  When the last model had turned a full
circle, signaling that the show had ended, a press photograph et asked
Zaphia if he could take her picture.  "Mama," said

Florentyna urgently as he was setting up his tripod, "you must wear
your hat further forward if you want to be thought chic."

Mother obeyed child for the first time.

When Miss Tredgold tucked Florentyna into bed that night she asked if
she had enjoyed the experience.

"Oh, yes," said Florentyna.  "I had no idea clothes could make you look
so good."

Miss Tredgold smiled, a little wistfully.

"And did you realize that they raised over eight thousand dollars for
the

Chicago Symphony Orchestra?  Even Papa would have been impressed by
that."

"Indeed he would," said Miss Tredgold, "and one day you will have to
decide how to use your wealth for the benefit of other people.  It is
not always easy being born with money."

The next day, Miss Tredgold pointed out to Florentyna a picture of her
mother in Women's Wear Daily - y under the caption,

"Baroness Rosnovski enters the fashion scene in Chicago."

"When can I go to a fashion show again?"  asked Florentyna.

"Not until you have been through Charlemagne and the Council of Trent,"
said Miss Tredgold.

"I wonder what Charlemagne wore when he was crowned Emperor of the
Holy

Roman Empire," said Florentyna.

That night, closed into her room, with only the light of a flashlight
to go by, she let down the hem of her school skirt and took two inches
in at the waist.

Florentyna was now in her last term of Middle School, and Abel hoped
The might win the coveted Upper School Scholarship.  Florentyna was
aware that her father could afford to send her to Upper School if she
failed to win a scholarship, but she had plans for the money her father
would save each year if she was awarded free tuition.  She had studied
hard that year, but she had no way of knowing how well she had done
when the final examination came to an end, as there were 122 Illinois
children who had entered for the examination, but only four
scholarships were to be awarded.  Florentyna had been warned by Miss

Tredgold that she would not learn the result for at least a month.

"Patience is a virtue," Miss Tredgold reminded her, and added with mock
horror that she would return to England on the next boat if Florentyna
did not come in in the first three places.

"Don't N.silly, Miss Tredgold, I shall be first," Florentyna replied
confidently, but as the days of the month went by she began to regret
her bragging and confided to Eleanor during a long walk that she might
have written cosine when she had meant sine in one of the questions,
and created an impossible triangle.  "Purhaps I shall come in second,"
she ventured over breakfast one morning.

"Then I shall move to the employ of the parents of the child who comes
first," said Miss Tredgold imperturbably.

Abel smiled as he looked up from his copy of the morning paper.  "If
you win a scholarship," he said, "you will have saved me a thousand
dollars a year.  If you come out on top, two thousand dollars."

"Yes, Papa, and I have plans for that."

"Oh, do you, young lady.  And may I inquire what you have in mind?"

"If I win a scholarship, I want you to invest the money in Baron Group
stock until I'm twenty-one, and if I'm first I want you to do the same
for Miss Tredgold."

"Good gracious, no," said Miss Tredgold, stretching to her full height,
"that would be most improper.  I do apologize, Mr.  Rosnovski, for

Florentyna's impudence."

"It's not impudence, Papa.  If I finish top, half the credit must go
to

Miss Tredgold.  "If not more," said Abel, "and I'll agree to your
demands.  But on one condition."  He folded his paper carefully.

"What's that?"  said Florentyna.

"How much do you have in your savings account, young lady?"

"Three hundred and twelve dollars," came the immediate reply.

"Very well, if you fail to finish in the first four you must sacrifice
the three hundred and twelve dollars to help me pay the tuition you
haven't saved."

Florentyna hesitated.  Abel waited and Miss Tredgold did not comment.

"I agree," said Florentyna at last.

"I have never bet in my life," said Miss Tredgold, "and I can only hope
my dear father does not live to learn of this."

"It should not concern you, Miss Tredgold."  "it certainly does, Mr.
Rosnovski.  If the child is willing to gamble her only three hundred
and twelve dollars on the strength of what I have managed to do for
her, then I must repay in kind and also offer three hundred and twelve
dollars towards her education if she fails to win a scholarship."

"Bravo," said Florentyna, and threw her arms around her governess.  ""A
fool and his money are soon parted," declared Miss Tredgold.

"Agreed," said Abel, "for I have lost."

"What do you mean, Papa?"  asked Florentyna.  Abel turned over the
newspaper to reveal a small headline that read: "The Chicago Baron's
Daughter Wins

Top Scholarship."

"Mr.  Rosnovski, you knew all the time."

"True, Miss Tredgold, but it is you who have turned out to be the
better poker player."

FlorentynH was overjoyed and spent the last few days of her life at
Middle

School as the class heroine.  Even Edward Winchester congratulated
her.

"Let's go and have a drink to celebrate," he suggested.

"What?"  said Florentyna.  "I've never had a drink before."

"No time like the present," said Edward, and led her to a small
classroom in the boys' end of the school.  Once they were inside, he
locked the door.

"Don't want to get caught," he explained.  Florentyna stood in admiring
disbelief as Edward lifted the lid of his desk and took out a bottle of
beer, which he pried open with a nickel.  He poured the flat brown
liquid into two dirty glasses, also extracted from the desk, and passed
one over to Florentyna.  -Bottoms up," said Edward.

"What does that mean?"  asked Florentyna.

"Just drink the stuff," he said, but Florentyna watched him take a gulp
before she plucked up the courage to try a sip.  Edward rummaged around
in his jacket pocket and took out a crumpled package of Lucky
Strikes.

Florentyna couldn't believe her eyes.  The nearest she had been to a
cigarette was the advertisement she had heard on the radio which
said:

"Lucky Strike means fine tobacco.  Yes, Lucky Strike means fine
tobacco," a theme that had driven Miss Tredgold mad.  Without speaking,
Edward removed one of the cigarettes from the packet,

placed it between his lips, lit it and started puffing away.  He blew
some smoke jauntily into the middle of the room.  Florentyna was
mesmerized as he extracted a second cigarette and placed it between her
lips.  She did not dare to move as he struck another match and held the
flame to the end of the cigarette.  She stood quite still for fear it
would catch her hair on fire.

"Inhale, you silly girl," he said, so she puffed three or four times
very quickly and then started coughing.

"You can take the thing out of your mouth, you know," he said.  "Of
course I know," she said quickly, removing the cigarette the way she
remembered Jean Harlow did in Saratoga.

"Good," said Edward, and drank a large draft of his beer.

"Good," said Florentyna, then swallowed a mouthful of her beer.  For
the next few minutes, she kept in time with Edward as he puffed his
cigarette and gulped from his glass.

"Great, isn't it?"  said Edward.

"Great," replied Florentyna.

"Like another?"

"No, thank you."  Florentyna coughed.  "But it was great."

"I've been smoking and drinking for several weeks," announced Edward.

"Yes, I can tell," said Florentyna.

A bell sounded in the hall, and Edward quickly put the beer, cigarettes
and the two butts in his desk before unlocking the door.  Florentyna
walked slowly back to her classroom.  She felt dizzy and sick when she
reached her desk and worse when she reached home an hour later, unaware
that the smell of Lucky Strikes was still on her breath.  Miss Tredgold
did not comment and put her to bed immediately.

The next morning Florentyna woke in terrible discomfort, scabious
eruptions on her chest and face.  She looked at herself in the mirror
and burst into tears.

"Chicken pox," declared Miss Tredgold to Zaphia.  Chicken pox, the
doctor confirmed later, and Miss Tredgold brought Abel to visit
Florentyna in her room after the doctor had completed his
examination.

"What's wrong with me?"  asked Florentyna anxiously.

"I can't imagine," said her father mendaciously.  "Looks like one of'
the plagues of Egypt to me.  What do you think, Miss Tredgold?"

"I have only seen the like of it once before, and that was with a man
in my father's parish who smoked, but of course that doesn't apply in
this case."

Abel kissed his daughter on the cheek, and the two grownups left.

"Did we pull it.  off?"  asked Abel when they had reached his study.

"I cannot be certain, Mr.  Rosnovski, but I would be willing to wager
one dollar that Florentyna never smokes again."

Abel took out his wallet from an inside pocket, removed a dollar bill
and then replaced it.

"No, I think not, Miss Tredgold.  J am too aware what happens when I
bet with you."

Florentyna once heard her headmistress remark that some incidents in
history are so powerful in their impact that most people can tell you
exactly where they were when they first heard the news.

On April 12, 1945, at 4:47 P.m."  Abel was talking to a man
representing a product called Pepsi-Cola who was pressing him to try
out the drink in the Bar-on hotels.  Zaphia was shopping in Marshall
Field's and Miss

Tredgold had just come out of the United Artists Theater, where she had
seen Humphrey Bogart in Casablanca for the third time.  Flo-rentyna was
in her room looking up the word "teen-ager" in Webster's dictionary.
The word was not yet acknowledged by Webster's when Franklin D.
Roosevelt died in Warm Springs, Georgia.

Of all the tributes to the late President which Florentyna read during
the next few days, the one she kept for the rest of her life was from
the

New York Post.  It read simply:

Washington, April 19-Following are the latest casualties in the
military services including next of kin.

ARMY-NAvy DEAD

RoOSEVELT, Franklin D."  Commander in Chief, wife Mrs.  Anna Eleanor

Roosevelt.  The White House.

ENTERING UPPER SCHOOL AT GIRLs LATIN prompted Florentyna's second trip
to

New York because the only establishment that stocked the official
school uniform was Marshall Field's in Chicago, and the shoes,
Abercrombie & Fitch in New York.  Abel snorted and declared it was
inverted snobbery of the worst kind.  Nevertheless, since he had to
travel to New York to check on the newly opened Baron, he agreed as a
special treat to accompany Miss

Tredgold and his eleven-year old daughter on their journey to Madison

Avenue.

Abel had long considered New York to be the only major city in the
world not to boast a first-class hotel.  He admired the Plaza, the
Pierre and the

Carlyle but did not think that any of the th rec held a candle to
Claridge's in London, the George V in Paris or the Danieli in Venice,
and only those achieved the standards he was trying to reproduce for
the New York Baron.

Florentyna was aware that Papa was spending more and more time in New
York, and it saddened her that the affection between her father and
mother now seemed to be a thing of the past.  The rows were becoming so
frequent that she wondered if she was in any way to blame.

Once Miss Tredgold had completed everything on the list that could be
purchased at Marshall Field's-three blue sweaters (navy), three blue
skirts (navy), four shirts (white), six blue bloomers (dark), six pairs
of gray socks (light), one navy-blue silk dress with white collar and
cuffs-she planned the trip to New York.

Florentyna and Miss Tredgold took the train to Grand Central Station
and on arrival in New York went straight to Abercrombie & Fitch, where
they selected two pairs of brown Oxfords.

"Such sensible shous," proclaimed Miss Tredgold.  "Nobody who wears

Abercrombies needs fear going through life with flat feet."  They then
proceeded over to Fifth Avenue, and it was some minutes before Miss

Tredgold realized she was on her own, Turning around, she observed

Florentyna's nose pressed against a pane Lit Elizabeth Arden's.  She
walked quickly back to join her.  "Ten shades of lipstick for the
sophisticated woman," read the sign in the window.

"Rose red is my favorite," said Florentyna hopefully.

"The school rules are very clear," said Miss Tredgold
authoritatively.

"No lipstick, no nail polish, and no jewelry except one ring and a
watch."

Florentyna reluctantly left the rose-red lipstick and joined her
governess on her march up Fifth Avenue toward the Plaza Hotel, where
her father was expecting them at the Palm Court for tea.  Abel could
not resist returning to the hotel where he had served his
apprenticeship as a junior waiter, and although he recognized no one
except old Sammy, the headwaiter in the Oak Room, everyone knew exactly
who he was.

After macaroons and ice cream for Florentyna, a cup of coffee for Abel,
and lemon tea and a watercress sandwich for Miss Tredgold, Abel
returned to work.  Miss Tredgold checked her New York itinerary and
took Florentyna to the top of the Empire State Building.  As the
elevator reached the one hundred and second floor Florentyna felt quite
giddy, and they both burst out laughing when they discovered fog had
come in from the East River and they couldn't even see as far as the
Chrysler Building.  Miss Tredgold checked her list again and decided
that their time would be better spent visiting the Metropolitan Museum.
Francis Henry Taylor, the director, had just acquired a large canvas by
Pablo Picasso; the oil painting turned out to be a woman with two heads
and one breast coming out of her shoulder.

"What do you think of that'?"  asked Florentyna.

"Not a lot," said Miss Tredgold.  I rather suspect that when he was at
school he received the same sort of art reports as you do now."

Florentyna always enjoyed staying in one of her father's hotels when
she was on a trip.  She would happily spend hours waWng around trying
to pick up mistakes the hotel was making.  After all, she pointed out
to Miss

Tredguld, they had their investment to consider.  Over dinner that
night in the Grill Room of the New York Baron, Florentyna told her
father that she didn't think much of the hotel shops.

"What's wrong with them?"  asked Abel.  mouthing questions without
paying much attention to the answers.

"Nothing you can point to easily," said Florentyna, "except that they
are all dreadfully dull compared with real shops like the ones on
Fifth

Avenue."

Abel scribbled a note on the back of his menu, "Shops dreadfully dull,"
and doodled around it carefully before he said, "I'll not be returning
to Chicago with you, Florentyna."

For once Florentyna was silent.

"Some problems have come up here with the hotel and I have to stay
behind to see they don't get out of hand," he said, the line sounding a
little too well rehearsed.

Florentyna gripped her father's hand.  "Try and come back tomorrow.

I-I'leanor and I always miss you."

Once Florentyna had returned to Chicago Miss Tredgold set about
preparing her for Upper School.  Each day they would spend two hours
studying a different subject, but Florentyna was allowed to choose
whether they should work in the momings or the afternoons.  The only
exception to the rule was on Thursdays, when their sessions took place
in the morning as it was Miss Tredgold's afternoon off.

At two o'clock promptly every Thursday she would leave the house and
not return until seven that night.  She never explained where she was
going, and Florentyna never summoned up the courage to ask.  But as the
holiday progressed Florentyna became more and more curious about where
Miss -Tredgold spent her time.  until finally she resolved to discover
for herself.

After a Thursday morning of Latin and a light lunch together in the
kitchen, Miss Tredgold said goodbye to Florentyna and retired to her
room.  As two o'clock struck she opened the front door of the house and
headed off down the street carrying a large canvas bag.  Florentyna
watched her carefully through her bedroom window.  Once Miss Tredgold
had turned the corner of Rigg Street, Florentyna dashed out and ran all
the way down to the Inner Drive.  She peered around to see her mentor
waiting at a bus stop on Michigan Avenue.  She could feel her heart
beating at the thought of not being able to follow Miss Tredgold any
farther.  Within minutes she watched a bus draw up and come to a halt.
She was about to turn back for home when she noticed Miss

Tredgold disappear up the circular staircase of the double-decker.
Without hesitation, Florentyna ran and jumped onto the moving platform,
then quickly made her way to the front of the bus.

When the ticket collector asked her where she was going, Florentyna
suddenly realized she had no idea of her destination.

"How far do you go?"  she asked.

The collector looked at her suspiciously.  "The Loop," he replied.

"One sin~je for The Loop, then," Florentyna said confidently.

"That'll be fifteen cents," said the conductor.

Flornentyna fumbled in her jacket pocket to discover she had only ten
cents.

"How far can I go for ten cents?"

"Rylands School" came back the reply.

Florentyna passed over the money, praying that Miss Tredgold would
reach her destination before she would have to get off, while not
giving any thought to how she would make the return journey.

She sat low in her seat and watched carefully each time the bus came to
.4 halt along the lake front, but even after she had counted twelve
stops and passed the University of Chicago, Miss Tredgold still did not
appear.

"Your stop is next," the conductor said a few minutes later.

When the bus next came to a halt, Florentyna knew she was beaten.  She
stepped down reluctantly onto the sidewalk thinking about the long walk
home and determined that the following week she would have enough money
to cover the journey both ways.

She stood unhappily watching the bus as it traveled a few hundred yards
farther down the street before coming to a stop once more.  A figure
stepped out into the road which could only have been Miss Tredgold. She
disappeared down a side street, looking as if she knew exactly where
she was going.

Florentyna ran as hard as she could, but when she reached the corner,
breathless, there was no sign of Miss Tredgold.  Florentyna walked
slowly down the street wondering where her governess could have gone.
Perhaps into one of the houses, or might she have taken another side
street?  Florentyna decided she would walk to the end of the block and
if she failed to spot her quarry then, she would have to make her way
home.

Just at the point when she was considering turning back she came into
an opening that faced a large white archway on which "South Shore
Country

Club" was embossed in gold.

Florentyna didn't think for a minute that Miss Treelgold could be
inside, but out of curiosity she peered through the gates.

"What d(, you want?"  said a uniformed guard standing on the other
side.

"I was looking for my governess," said Florentyna.

"What's her name?"

"Miss Tredgold," Florentyna said unflinchingly.

"She's already gone into the clubhouse," said the guard, pointing
toward a Victorian building surrounded by trees about a quarter of a
mile up a steep rise.

Florentyna marched boldly through, without another word, staying on the
path because "Keep off the grass" signs were displayed every few
yards.

She kept her eye on the clubhouse and had ample time to leap behind a
tree when she saw Miss Treelgold emerge.  She hardly recognized the
lady dressed in red-and-yellow-checked tweed trousers, a heavy Fair
Isle sweater and heavy brown brogues.  A bag of golf clubs was stung
comfortably over one shoulder.

Florentyna stared at her governess, mesmerized.

Miss Tredgold walked toward the first tee, where she put down her bag
and took out a ball.  She placed it on a tee at her feet and selected a
club from her bag.  After a few practice swings she steadied herself,
addressed the ball and hit it firmly down the middle of the fairway.
Florentyna couldn't believe her eyes.  She wanted to applaud but
instead ran forward to hide behind another tree as Miss Tredgold
marched off down the fairway.

Miss Trrdgold's second shot landed only twenty yards: from the edge of
the green.  Florentyna ran forward to a clump of trees at the side of
the fairway and watched Miss Tredgold chip her ball up onto the green
and hole it out with two putts.  Florentyna was left in no doubt that
Miss

Tredgold had been playing the game for some considerable time.

Miss Tredgold then removed a small white card from her pocket and wrote
on it, before heading toward the second tee.  As she did ~.io she gazed
toward the second green, which was to the left of where Florentyna was
hidden.  Once again Miss Tredgold steadied herself, addressed the ball
and swung, but this time she sliced her shot and the ball ended up only
fifteen yards from Florentyna's hiding place.

Florentyna looked up at the trees, but they had not been made for
climbing other than by a cat.  She held her breath and crouched behind
the widest trunk, but could not resist watching Miss Tredgold as she
studied the lie of her ball.  Miss Tredgold muttered something
inaudible and then selected a club.  Florentyna let out her breath as
Miss Tredgold swung.

The ball climbed high and straight before landing in the middle of the
fairway again.

Florentyna watched Miss Tredgold replace her club in the bag.

I should have kept a straighter arm on the first shot and then we would
never have met."

Florentyna, assumed Miss Tredgold was admonishing herself yet again and
remained behind the tree.

"Come here, child."  Florentyna obediently ran out but said nothing.

Miss Tred9old took another ball from the side pocket of her bag and
placed it on the ground in front of her.  She selected a club and
handed it to her charge.

"Try to Nt the ball in that direction," she said pointing toward a flag
about a hundred yards away.

Florentyna held the club awkwardly before taking several swings at the
ball, on each occasion digging up what Miss Tredgold called a
"divot."

At last she managed to push it twenty yards toward the fairway.  She
beamed with pleasure.

I see we are in for a long afternoon," declared Miss Tredgold
resigne(Ily.

"I am sorry," said Florentyna.  "Can you ever forgive me?"

"For following me, yes.  But for the state of your golf, no.  We shall
hwc to start with the basics, as it seems in the future I am no longer
to have Thursday afternoons to myself, now you have discovered my
father's only sin."

Miss Tredgold taught Florentyna how to play golf with the same energy
and application as if it were Latin or Greek.  By the end of the summer
holiday Florentyna's favorite afternoon was Thursday.

Upper School was very different from Middle School.  There was a new
teacher for every subject rather than one teacher for everything ~,ut
gym and art.  The pupils moved from room to room for their classes, and
for many of the activities the girls joined forces with the boys'
school.

Florentyna's favorite subjects were current affairs, Latin, French
and

English, although she couldn't wait for her twice-weekly biology
classes, because they gave her the chance to use a microscope and
admire the school's collection of bugs.

"Insects, dear child.  You must refer to the little creatures as
insects,"

Miss Tredgold insisted.

"Actually, Miss Tredgold, they're nematodes."

Florentyna continued to take an interest in clothes and noticed that
the mode for short dresses caused by the enforced economies of war was
fast becoming outdated and that once again skirts were returning toward
the ground.  She was unable to do much about experimenting with
fashion, as the school uniform was the same year in and year out; the
children's department of Marshall Field's, it seemed, was not
influenced by Vogue.  However, she studied all the relevant magazines
in the library and pestered her mother to take her to more shows.  For
Miss Tredgold, on the other hand, who had never allowed any man to see
her knees, even in the self-denying days of

Lend-Lease, the new fashion only proved she had been right all along.

At the end of Florentyna's first year in Upper School the modern-]
anguages

Liages mistress decided to put on a performance of Shaw 's Saint Joan
in

French.  As Florentyna was the one pupil who could think in the
language, she was chosen to play the Maid of Orleans, and she rehearsed
for hours in the old nursery, with Miss Tredgold playing every other
part as well as being prompter and cue reader.  Even when Flornentyna was
wordperfect, Miss

Tredgold sat loyally through the daily one-woman shows.

"Only the Pope and I give audiences for one," she told Florentyna as
the phone rang.

"It's for you," said Miss Tredgold.

Florentyna always enjoyed receiving phone calls, although it was not a
practice that Miss 'rregold encouraged.

"Hello, it s Edward.  I need your help."

"Why?  Don't tell me you've opened a schoolbook

"No hope of that, silly.  But I've been given the part of the Dauphin
and I can't pronounce all the words."

Florentyna tried not to laugh.  "Come around at five-thirty and you can
join the daily rehearsals.  Although I must warn you, Miss Treelgold
has been making a very good Dauphin up to now."

Edward came around every night at five-thirty and although Miss
Treelgold occasionally frowned when "the boy" lapsed back into an
American accent, he was "Just about ready" by the day of the dress
rehearsal.

When the night of the performance itself came, Miss Tredgold
instructed

Florentyna and Edward that under no circumstances must they look out
into the audience hoping to spot their parents~ otherwise those
watching the performance would not believe the character they were
portraying.  Most unprofessional, Miss Tredgold considered, and
reminded Florentyna that

Mr.  NoO Coward had once left a performance of Romeo and Juliet
because

Mr.  John Gielgud looked straight at him during a soliloquy. Florentyna
was convinced, although in truth she had no idea who John Gielgud and
NoO

Coward were.

When the curtain went up, Florentyna did not once look beyond the
footlights.  Miss Tredgold considered her efforts 11 most commendable"
and during the intermission particularly commented to Florentvna's
mother on the scene in which the Maid is alone in the center of the
stage and talks to her voices.  "Moving," was Miss Tredgold's
description, "Unquestionably moving."  When the last curtain finally
fell, Florentyna received an ovation, even from those who had not been
able to follow every word in

French.  Edward stood a pace behind her, relieved to have come through
the ordeal without too many mistakes.  Glowing with excitement,
Florentyna removed her makeup, her first experience of lipstick and
powder, changed back into her school uniform and joined her mother and
Miss Tredgold with the other parents who were having coffee in the
dining hall.  Several people came over to congratulate her on her
performance including the headmaster of the Boys Latin School.

"A remarkable achievement for a girl of her age," he told Mrs.
Rosnovski.

"Though when you think about it, she is only a couple of years younger
than Saint Joan was when she challenged the entire might of the French
establishment,"

"Saint Joan didn't have.  to learn someone else's lines in a foreign
language," said Zaphia, feeling pleased with herself.

Florentyna did not take in her mother's words; her eyes were searching
the crowded hall for her father.

"Where's Papa?"  she asked.

"He couldn't make it tonight."

"But he promised."  said Florentyna.  "He promised."  Tears welled up
in her eyes as she suddenly realized why Miss Tredgold had told her not
to look beyond the footlights.

"You must remember, child, that your father is a very busy man.  He has
a small empire to run."

"So did Saint Joan," said Florentyna.

When Florentyna went to bed that night, Miss Tredgold came to turn out
her light.

"Papa doesn't love Mama any more, does he?"

The bluntness of the question took Miss Tredgold by surprise and it was
a few moments before she recovered.  '~Of only one thing I am certain,
child, and that is that they both love you."

"Then why has Papa stopped coming home?"

"That I cannot explain, but whatever his reasons, we must be very
understanding and grown-up," said Miss Tredgold, brushing back a lock
of hair that had fallen over Florentyna's forehead.

Florentyna felt very un-grown-up and wondered if Saint Joan had beep so
unhappy when she lost her beloved France.  When Miss Tredgold closed
the door quietly, Florentyna put her hand under the bed to feel the
reassuring wet nose of Eleanor.  "At least I'll always have you," she
whispered.

Eleanor clambered from her hiding place onto the bed and settled down
next to Florentyna, facing the door: a quick retreat to her basket in
the kitchen might prove necessary if Miss Tredgold reappeared.

Florentyna did not see her father during the summer vacation and had
long stopped believing the stories that the growing hotel empire was
keeping him away from Chicago.  When she mentioned him to her mother,
Zaphia's replies were often bitter.  Florentyna also found out from
overheard telephone conversations that she was consulting lawyers.

Each day, Florentyna would take Eleanor for a walk down Michigan Avenue
in the hope that she might see her father's car drive by.  One
Wednesday, she decided to make a break in her routine and walk on the
west side of the avenue to study the stores that set the fashions for
the Windy City.

Eleanor was delighted to be reunited with the magnificent gas lamps
that had recently been placed for her at twenty-yard intervals.
Florentyna had already purchased a wedding dress and a ball gown with
her five -dollars-a-week pocket money and was coveting an elegant
five-hundred-dollar evening dress in the window of Martha Weathered on
the corner of Oak Street when she saw her father's reflection in the
glass.  She turned, overjoyed, to see him coming out of the Bank of
Chicago on the opposite side of the street.  Without a thought she
dashed out into the road, not looking either way as she called her
father's name.  A yellow cab jammed on its brakes and swerved
violently, the driver aware of a flash of blue skirt, then a heavy thud
as the cab made contact with the body.  The rest of the traffic came to
a screeching halt as the cab driver saw a stout, well-dressed man.
followed by a policeman, run out into the middle of the street.  A
moment later Abel and the taxi driver stood numbly staring down at the
lifeless body.  "She's dead," said the policeman, shaking his head as
he took his notebook from his top pocket.

Abel fell on his knees, trembling.  He looked up at the policeman. "And
the worst thing about it is I am to blame."

"No, Papa, it was my fault," wept Florentyna.  "I should never have
rushed out into the street.  I killed Eleanor by not thinking."

The driver of the cab that had hit the Labrador explained that he had
had no choice; he had to hit the dog to avoid colliding with the girl.
-Abel nodded, picked up his daughter and carried her to the curb, not
letting, her look back at Eleanor's mangled body.  He put Florentyna
into the back of his car and returned to the policeman.

"My name i~ Abel Rosnov-"

"I know who you are, sir."

"Can I leave everything to you, Officer'?"

"Yes, sir," said the policeman, not looking up from his notebook.

Abel returned to his chauffeur and told him to drive them to the
Baron.

Abel held his daughter's hand as they walked through the crowded hotel
corridor to the private elevator that whisked them to the forty-second
floor.  George met them when the gates sprung open.  He was about to
greet his goddaughter with a Polish quip when he saw the look on her
face.

"Ask Miss Tredgold to come over immediately, George."

"Of course," said George, and disappeared into his own office.

Abel sat and listened to several stories about Eleanor without
interrupting before tea and sandwiches arrived, but Florentyna managed
only a sip of milk.  Then, without any prelude, she changed the
subject.

"Why don't you ever come home, Papa'?she asked.

Abel poured himself another cup of tea, a little spilling into the
saucer.

"I've wanted to come home many times and I hated missing Saint Joan,
but your mother and I are going to be divorced.  "

"Oh, no.  it can't be true.  Papa-"

"It's my fault, little one.  I have not been a good husband and-"

Florentyna threw her arms around her father.  "Does that mean I will
never see you again?"

"No.  I have made an agreement with your mother that you shall remain
in

Chicago while you are at school, but you will spend the holidays with
me in New York.  Of course you can always talk to me on the telephone
whenever you want to."

Florentyna remained silent as Abel gently stroked her hair.

Some time passed before there was a gentle knock on the door and Miss

Tredgold entered, her long dress swishing as she came quickly to

Florentyna's side.

"Can you take her home please, Miss Tredgold?"

"Of course, Mr.  Rosnovski."  Florentyna was still tearful.  "Come with
me, child," she said and bent down and whispered, "try not to show your
feelings."

The twelve-year-old girl kissed her father on the forehead, took Miss

Tredgold's hand and left.

When the door closed, Abel, not having been brought up by Miss
Tredgold, sat alone and wept.

IT WAS AT1 HE BEGINNING of her second year in Upper School that

Florentyna first became aware of Pete Welling.  He was sitting in a
corner of the music room, playing the latest hit, "Almost Like Being in
Love," on the piano.  He was slightly out of tune, but Florentyna
assumed it must be the piano.  Pete didn't seem to notice her as she
passed him, so she turned around and walked back again, but to no
avail.  He put a hand nonchalantly through his fair, wavy hair and
continued playing the piano, so she marched off pretending she hadn't
seen him.  By lunchtime the next day she knew that he was one grade
above her, where he lived, that he was co-captain of the football team,
president of his class and nearly seventeen.  Her friend

Susie Jacobson warned her that others had trod the same path without a
great deal of success.

"But I asSUre you," replied norentyna, I have something to offer that
will prove irresistible."

That afternoon she sat down and composed what she imagined to be her
first love letter.  After much deliberation she chose purple ink and
wrote in a bold, slanting hand:

My dear Pete,

I knew you were something special the first time I saw you.  I think
you play the piano beautifully.  Would you like to come and listen to
some records at my place?  Very sincerely,

Florentyna (Rosnovski)

Florentyna waited for the break before she crept down the corridor,
imagining every eye to be on her as she searched for Pete Welling's
hall locker.  When she found it, she checked his name against the
number on the top of the locker.  Fortytwo-she felt that was a good
omen, and opened his locker door, left her letter on top of a math
book, where he couldn't miss it, and returned to her classroom, palms
sweating.  She checked tier own locker, on the hour every hour,
expecting his reply, but none was forthcoming.  After a week passed,
she began to despair until she saw Pete sitting on the steps of the
chapel combing his hair.  How daring to break two school rules at once,
she thought.  Florentyna decided this was her chance to find out if he
had ever received her invitation.

She walked boldly toward him, but with only a yard to go she wished he
would disappear in a cloud of dust because she couldn't think of
anything to say.  She stood still like a lamb in the stare of a python,
but he saved her by saying, "Hi.  "Hi," she managed.  "Did you ever
find my letter?"

"Your letter?"

"Yes, I wrote to you last Monday about coming over to play some records
at my place.  I've got "Silent Night," and most of Bing Crosby's latest
hits.

Have you heard him singing "White Christmas"?"  she asked, playing her
trump card.

"Oh, it was you who wrote that letter," he said.

"Yes, I saw you play against Parker last week.  You were fantastic. Who
are you playing next?"

"It's in the school calendar," he said, putting his comb into an inside
pocket and looking over her shoulder,

"I'll be in the stands."

"I'm sure you will," he said as a tall blonde from the senior class
wearing little white socks that Florentyna felt sure were not official
school uniform ran over to Pete and asked if he had been waiting
long.

"No, only a couple of minutes," said Pete, and put his arm around her
waist before turning back to Florentyna.  "I'm afraid you'll just have
to get in line," he said, laughing, "but perhaps your time will come.
Anyway, I think

Crosby's square.  I'm into Bix Beiderbecke."

As they walked away, Florentyna could hear him telling the blonde,
"That was the girl who sent me the note."  The blonde looked back over
her shoulder and started laughing.  "She's probably still a virgin,"
Pete added.

Florentyna went to the girls' locker room and hid until everyone else
had gone home, dreading that they would all laugh at her once the story
had gone the rounds.  She didn't sleep that night, and the next morning
she studied the other girls' faces but couldn't see any signs of
sniggers or stares and decided to confide in Susie Jacobson to discover
if the story had gotten around.  When Florentyna had finished her
story, Susie burst out laughing.

"Not you as well," Susie said.

Florentyna felt a lot better after Susie told her how far down the line
she actually was.  It gave her the courage to ask Susie if she knew
what a virgin was.

"I'm not certain," said Susie.  "Why?"

"Because Pete said I probably was one."

"Then I think I must be one as well.  I once overheard Mary Alice
Beckman saying it was when a boy made love to you and nine months later
you had a baby.  Like Miss Horton told us about elephants, but they
take two years."

"I wonder what it feels like."

"According to all the magazines Mary Alice keeps in her locker, it's
dreamy."

"Do you know anyone who's tried?"

"Margie McCormick claims she has."

"She would claim anything, and if she has, why hasn't she had a
baby?"

"She said she took 'precautions," whatever they are."

"If it's anything like having a period, I can't believe it's worth all
the trouble," said Florentyna.

"Agreed," said Susie.  "I got mine yesterday.  Do you think men have
the same problem?"

"Not a chance," said Florentyna.  "They always end up with the best of
every deal.  Obviously we get the periods and the babies and thoy get
shaving and the draft, but I shall have to ask Miss Tredgold about
that."

"I'm not sure she'll know," said Susie.

"Miss Tredgold," said Florentyna with confidence, "knows everything."

That evening when Miss Tredgold was approached by a puzzled Florentyna,
she did not-hesitate to sit the child down and explain the birth
process to her in the fullest detail, warning her of the consequences
of a rash desire to experiment.  Florentyna sat and listened to Miss
Tredgold in silence.  When she had finished, Florentyna asked, "Then
why is so much fuss made about the whole thing?"

"Modern society and loose morals make a lot of demands on girls, but
always remember that each of us makes our own decision as to what
others think of us and, more importantly, what we think of
ourselves."

"She did know all about becoming pregnant and having babies,"
Florentyna said to Susie the next day with great authority.

"Does that mean you're going to remain a virgin?"  asked Susie.

"Oh, y,~s," said Florentyna.  "Miss Tredgold is still one."

"But what about 'precautions'?"  demanded Susie.

"You don't need them if you remain a virgin," Florentyna said, passing
on her newfound knowledge.

The only other event of importance that year for Florentyna was her
confirmation.  Although Father O'Reilly, a young priest from the Holy
Name

Cathedral, officially instructed her, Miss Tredgold, resolutely
suppressing the Church of England tenets of her youth, studied the
Roman Catholic

"Orders in Confirmation" and took Florentyna painstakingly through her
preparation, leaving her in no doubt of the obligations that her
promises to our dear Lord brought upon her.  The Roman Catholic
Archbishop of

Chicago, assisted by Father O'Reilly, administered the confirmation,
and both Abet and Zaphia attended the serv icc  Their divorce having
been completed, they sat in separate pews.

Florentyna wore a simple white dress with a high neck, the hem falling
a few inches below the knee.  She had made the dress herself,
with--when she was asleep-a little help from Miss Tredgold.  The
original design had come from a photograph in Paris-Match of a dress
worn by Princess Elizabeth.

Miss Tredgold had brushed Florentyna's long dark hair for over an hour
until it shone, She even allowed it to fall to her shoulders.  Although
she was only thirteen, the young confirm and looked stunning.

"My Kain is beautiful," said George as he stood next to Abel in the
front pew of the church.

I know."  said Abel.

"No, I'm serious," said George.  "Very soon there is going to be a line
of men banging on the Baron's castle door demanding the hand of' his
only daughter."

"As long as she's happy, I don't mind who she marries."

After the service was over, the family had a celebration dinner in
Abel's private rooms at the Baron.  Florentyna received gifts from her
family and friends, including a beautiful leather-bound version of the
King James

Bible from Miss Tredgold, but the present she treasured most was the
one her father had kept safely until he felt she was old enough to
appreciate it, the antique ring that had been given to Florentyna on
her christening by the man who had put his faith in Papa and backed the
Baron

Group.

I must write and thank him," said Florentyna.

"You can't, my dear, as I am not certain who he is.  I honored my part
of the bargain long ago, so now I will probably never discover his true
identity."

She slipped the antique ring onto the third finger of her right hand
and throughout the rest of the day her eyes returned again and again to
the sparkling little emeralds.

How' "VILL YOU 13E VOTING in the Presidential election, madam?"  asked
the smartly dressed young man.

"I shall not be voting," said Miss Tredgold, continuing down the
street.

"Shall I put you down as "Don't know'?"  said the man, jogging to keep
up with her.

"Most certainly not," said Miss Tredgold.  I made no such suggestioi i.
"

"Am I to understand you don't wish to state your preference?"

"I am quite happy to state my preference, young man, but as I come
from

Much Hadham in England, it is unlikely to influence either Mr.  Truman
or

Mr.  Dewey."

The rimn conducting the Gallup Poll retreated, but Florentyna watched
him carefully because she had read somewhere that the results of such
polls were now being taken seriously by all leading politicians.

Ninete,_-n forty-eight, and America was in the middle of another
election campaign.  Unlike the Olympics, the race for the White House
was re-run every four years, war or peace.  Florentyn;A remained loyal
to the

Democrats but did not see how President Truman could possibly hold on
to the White House after three such unpopular years as President.  The
Republican candidate, Thomas E. Dewey, had a lead of over 8 percent in
the latest Gallup Poll and looked certain of victory.

Florewyna followed both campaigns closely and was delighted when
Margaret

Chase Smith beat three men to be chosen as the Republican senatorial
candidate for Maine.  For the first time, the American people were able
to follow the election on television.  Abel had installed an RCA at
Rigg Street only months before he departed, but during term time Miss
Tredgold would not allow Florentyna to watch "that newfangled machine"
for more than one hour a day.  "It can never be a substitute for the
written word," she declared.  "I agree with

Professor Chester L. Dawes of Harvard," she added.  "Too many instant
decisions will be made in front of the cameras that will later be
regretted."

Although she did not fully agree with Miss Tredgold's sentiments at the
time, Florentyna selected her hour carefully, particula rING on
Sundays, always choosing the CBS evening news, during which Douglas
Edwards would give the campaign roundup, over Ed Sullivan's more
popular "Toast of the

Town."  However, she still found time to listen to Ed Murrow on the
radio.

After all his broadcasts from London during the war, she, like so many
other millions of Americans, remained loyal to his kind of news
casting

She felt it was the least she could do.

During the summer vacation Florentyna parked herself in Congressman

Osborne's campaign headquarters and, along with scores of other
volunteers of assorted ages and ability, filled envelopes with "A
Message from Your Congressman" and a bumper sticker that said in bold
print

"Re-elect Osborne."  She and a pale, angular youth who never proffered
any opinions would then lick the flap of each envelope and place it on
a pile according to district, for hand delivery by another helper, By
the end of each day her mouth and lips were covered in gum and she
would return home feeling thirsty and sick.

One Thursday the receptionist in charge of the telephone inquiries
asked if Florentyna could take over her spot while she took a break for
lunch.

"Of course," said Florentyna with tremendous excitement, and jumped
into the vacated seat before the pale youth could volunteer.

"There shouldn't be any problems," the receptionist said.  "Just say
"Congressman Osborne's office," and if you're not sure of anything,
look it up in the campaign handbook.  Everything you need to know is in
there," she added, pointing to the thick booklet by the side of the
phone.

"I'll be just fine," said Florentyna.

She sat in the exalted chair, staring at the phone, willing it to
ring.

She didn't have to wait long.  The first caller was a man who wanted to
know where he voted.  That's a strange question, thought Florentyna.

"At the polls," she said, a little pertly.

"Sure, I know that, you stupid bitch," came back the reply.  "But where
is my polling place?"

Florentyna was speechless for a moment, and then asked, very
politel,~, where he lived.  "in the seventh precinct."

Florentyna flicked through her guide.  "You should vote at Saint

Chrysostom's Church, on Dearborn Street."

"Where's that?"

Florentyna studied the map.  "The church is located five blocks from
the lake shore and fifteen blocks north of the Loop."  The phone
clicked and immediately rang again.  "is that Osborne's
headquarters?"

"Yes, sir."  said Florentyna.

"Well, you can tell that lazy bastard I wouldn't vote for him if he was
the only candidate alive."  The phone clicked again and Florentyna felt
queasier than she had been when she was licking envelopes.  She let the
bell ring three times before she could summon up the courage to lift
the receiver to answer.

"Hello," she said nervously.  "This is Congressman Oshome's
headquarters.

Miss Rosnovski speaking."

"Hello, my dear, my name is Daisy Bishop, and I will need a car to take
my husband to the polls on Election Day because he lost both of his
legs in the war."

"Oh, I'm so sorry," said Florentyna.

"Don't worry yourself, young lady.  We wouldn't let wonderful Mr.

Roosevelt down."

"But Mr.  Roosevelt is .. . Yes, of course you wouldn't.  Can I please
take down your telephone number and address?"

"Mr.  and Mrs.  Bishop, KI-5-4816" came the reply.

"We will phone you on election morning to let you know what time the
car will pick you up.  Thank you for supporting the Democratic ticket,
Mrs.

Bishop," said Florentyna.

"We always do, my dear.  Goodbye and good luck."

"Goodbye," said Florentyna, who took a deep breath and felt a little
better.  She wrote a -2" in brackets after the Bishops' name and placed
the note in the file marked "Transportation for Election Day." Then she
waited for the next call.

It was some minutes before the phone sounded again and by then
Florentyna had fully regained her confidence.

"Good morning, is this the Osborne office?"

"Yes, sir."  said Florentyna.

"My name is Melvin Crudick and I want to know Congressman Osborne's
views on the Marshall Plan."

"The what plan?"  said Florentyna.

"The Marshall Plan," the voice enunciated.

Florentyna frantically flipped the pages of the campaign handbook that
she had been promised would reveal everything.

"Are you still there?"  barked the voice.

"Yes, sir," said Florentyna.  "I just wanted to be sure you were given
a full and detailed answer on the congressman's views.  If you would be
kind enough to wait one moment."

At last Florentyna found the Marshall Plan and read through Henry
Osborne's words on the subject.

"Hello, sir."

"Yes," said the voice, and Florentyna started to read Henry's views out
loud.  ""Conglessman Osborne approves of the Marshall Plan."  There was
i long silence.

"Yes, I know he does," said the voice from the other end.

Florentyna felt weak.  "Yes, he does support the plan," she repeated.

"Why does he?"  said the voice.

"Becausz.  it will benefit everyone in his district," said Florentyna
firmly, feeling rather pleased with herself.

"Pray tell me, how can giving six billion American dollars to Europe
help the Ninth District of Illinois?"  Florentyna could feel the
perspiration on her forehead.  "Miss, you may inform your congressman
that because of your personal incompetence I shall be voting Republican
on this occasion."

Florentyna put the phone down and was considering running out of the
door when the regular receptionist arrived back from her lunch.
Florentyna did not know what to tell her.

"Anything interesting?"  the girl asked as she resumed her place.  "Of
was it the usual mixture of weirdos, perverts and cranks who have got
nothing better to do with their lunch break?"

"Nothing special," said Florentyna nervously, "except I think I've lost
the vote of a Mr.  Crudick."

"Not Mad Mel again?  What was it this time, the House Un American
Activities Committee, the Marshall Plan or the slums of Chicago"'

Florentyna happily returned to licking envelopes,

On Election Day, Florentyna arrived at campaign headquarters at eight
o'clock in the morning and spent the day telephoning registered
Democrats to be sure they had voted.  "Never forget," said Henry
Osborne in his final pep talk to his voluntary hulpers, "no man has
ever lived in the White House who hasn't carried Illinois."

Florentyna felt very proud to think she was helping to elect a
President and didn't take a break all day.  At eight o'clock that
evening.  Miss

Tredgold came to collect her.  She had worked twelve hours without
letting up, but never once did she stop talking all the way home.

"Do you think Mr.  Truman will win?"  she asked finally.

"Only it' he gets more than fifty percent of the votes cast," said
Miss

Tredgold.

"Wrong."  said Flornentyna.  "It is possible to win a Presidential
election in the United States by winning more Electoral College votes
than your opponent while failing to secure a majority of the
plebiscite."  She then proceeded to give Miss Tredgold a brief lesson
on how the American political system worked.

"Such a thing would never have happened if only dear George III had
known where America was."  said Miss Tredgold.  "And I become daily
aware that it will not be long before you have no further need of me,
child."

It was the first time Florentyna had ever considered that Miss Tredgold
would not spend the rest of her life with her.

When they reached home, Florentyna sat in her father's old chair to
watch the early returns, but she was so tired that she dozed off in
front of the fire.  She, like most of America, went to sleep believing
that Thomas

Dewey had won the election.  When Florentyna woke the next morning, she
dashed downstairs to fetch the Tribune.  Her fears were confirmed:
"Dewey

Defeats Truman" ran the headline, and it took half an hour of radio
bulletins and confirmation by her mother before Florentyna believed
that

Truman had been- returned to the White House.  An I I P.m. decision had
been made by the night editor of the Tribune to run a headline that he
would not live down for the rest of his life.  At least he had been
tight in stating that Henry Osborne was returned to Congress for a
sixth term.

When Florentyna went back to Girls Latin the next day, her homeroom
teacher called for her and made it quite clear that the election was
now over and that the time had come to settle down and do some serious
studying.  Miss Tredgold agreed, and Florentyna worked with the same
enthusiasm for her school exams as she had for President Truman.

During the year, she made the junior varsity hockey team,

on which she played right wing without distinction, and even managed to
squeeze onto the third-string tennis team on one occasion.  When the
summer term was drawing to a close, all the pupils received a note
reminding them that if they wished to run for the Student Council their
names must be sent to the headmaster of Boys Latin by the first Monday
of the new school year.  There were six representatives on the Council
elected from both schools, and no one could remember a year when they
had not all come from the twelfth grade.  Nevertheless, many of
Florentyna's classmates suggested that she allow her name to be put
forward.  Edward Winchester, who had years before given up trying to
beat Florentyna at anything except arm wrestling, volunteered to help
her.

"But anyone who helps me would have to be talented, good-looking,
popular and charismatic," she teased.

"For once, I agree with you," said Edward.  "Any fool taking up such a
cause will need every advantage possible to overcome the problems that
come with a candidate who is stupid, ugly, unapproachable and dull."
"in which case it might be wise for me to wait another year."

"Never," said Edward.  "I can see no hope of improvement in such a
short time.  In any case, I want you on the Council this year."

"Why?"

"Because if you're the only eleventh-grade student elected, you'll be a
near certain for president next year."

"Really thought the whole thing through, haven't you, Edward?"

"And I would be willing to bet everything in my piggy bank that you
have, too."

"Perhaps," said Florentyna.

"Perhaps?"

"Perhaps I'll consider running for Student Council a year early."

During the summer vacation, which Florentyna spent with her father at
the

New York Baron, she noticed that many of the big department stores now
had millinery departments and wondered why there were not more shops
specializing only in clothes.  She spent hours at Best's, Saks and
Bonwit

Tellerat the last of which she bought herself a strapless evening
dress-observing the different customers and comparing their individual
preferences with those of shoppers who frequented Bloomingdale's,

Altman's and Macy's.  In the evening over dinner she would regale her
father with the knowledge she had acquired that day.  Abel was so
impressed by the speed with which Florentyna assimilated new facts that
he began to explain to her in some detail how the Baron Group worked.
By the end of her vacation, he was delighted with how much she had
picked up about stock control, cash flow, advance reservations, the
Employment Act of 1940, and even the cost of eight thousand fresh
rolls.  He warned George that his job as managing director of the Group
might be in jeopardy in the not-too-distant future.

"I don't think it's my job she's after, Abel."

"No?"  said Abel.

"No," said George.  "It's yours."

Abel took Florentyna to the airport on the final day of her vacation
and presented her with a black-and-white Polaroid camera.

"Papa, what a fantastic present.  Won't I be the neatest thing at
school?"

"It's a bribe," said Abel.

"A bribe?"

"Yes.  George tells me you want to be Chairman of the Baron Group."

"I think I'll start with president of the Student Council," said

Florentyna.

Abel laughed.  "Make sure you win a place on the Council first," he
said, then kissed his daughter on the cheek and waved goodbye as she
disappeared up the steps to the waiting plane.  As Abel traveled back
in the car, he thought of his own ambitions for Warsaw and then
recalled the understanding he had had with his daughter.

"I've decided to run."

"Good," said Edward.  "I've already compiled a list of every student in
both schools.  You must put a check mark by all those who you feel are
certain to support you and a cross by those who won't, so that I can
work on the don't-knows and reinforce the backing of your
supporters."

"Very professional.  How many people are running?"

"So far fifteen candidates for six places.  There are four candidates
you can't hope to beat, but it will be a close contest after that.  I
thought you'd be interested to know that Pete Welling is running."

"That creep," said Florentyna.

"Oh, I was led to believe that you were hopelessly in love with him."

"Don't be ridiculous, Edward, he's a sap.  Let's go through the school
lists."

The election was due to take place at the end of the second week of the
new school year, so the candidates had only ten days to gather votes.

Many of Florentyna's friends dropped in at Rigg Street to assure her of
their support.  Florentyna was surprised to find some support where she
least expected it, while other classmates who she had imagined were
friends told Edward they would never back her.  Florentyna discussed
this problem with Miss Tredgold, who warned her that if you ever run
for any office that might bring you privilege or profit, it will always
be your contemporaries who do not want to see you succeed in your
ambitions.  You need have no fear of those who are older or younger
than yourself; they know you will never be their rival.

All the candidates had to write a mini-electiotf address setting out
the reasons they wanted to be on the Student Council.  Florentyna'i was
checked over by Abel, who refused to add or subtract anything, and by

Miss Tredgold, who only commented on the grammar.

Voting was all day Friday at the end of the second week and the result
was always announced by the headmaster after assembly the following

Monday morning.  It was a terrible weekend for Florentyna, and Miss

Tredgold spent the entire time saying, "Settle down, child."  Even
Edward, who played tennis with her on Sunday afternoon, hardly raised a
sweat, winning 6-0, 6-0.

"It wouldn't take Jack Kramer to tell you that you're not
concentrating-'child.  "'

"Oh, do be quiet, Edward.  I don't care whether I'm elected to the
Student

Council or not."

Florentyna woke up at five o'clock on Monday morning and was dressed
and ready for breakfast by six.  She read the paper through three times
and

Miss Tredgold did not utter a word to her until it was time to leave
for school.

"Remember, my dear, that Lincoln lost more elections than he won but
still became President."

"Yes, but I'd like to start out with a win," said Florentyna.

The assembly hall was packed by nine o'clock.  Morning prayers and the
headmaster's announcements seemed to take forever; Florentyna's eyes
stared down at the floor.

"And no" I shall read the results of the Student Council election,"
said the headmaster.  "There were fifteen candidates and six have been
elected to the Council.

1st Jason Morton109; President 2nd Cathy Long87 3rd Roger Dingle85 4th
Al Reuben81 5th Michael Pratt 79

The headmaster coughed and the room remained silent.  "Sixth,
Florentyna

Rosnovski with seventy-six votes.  The runner-up was Pete Welling with
seventy-five votes.  The first Council meeting will be in my office at
ten-thirty this momingal Assembly dismissed."

Florentyna was overwhelmed and threw her arms around Edward.

At the first Council meeting that morning, Florentyna.  as junior
member, was appointed secretary.

"That will teach you to come in last," laughed the new president,
Jason

Morton.

Back to writing notes that nobody else reads, thought Florentyna.  But
at least this time I can type them and perhaps next year I will be
president.

She looked up at the boy whose thin, sensitive face and seemingly shy
manner had won him so many votes.

"Now, privileges," said Jason briskly, unaware of her gaze.  "The
president is allowed to drive a car to school, while on one day a week
the girls can wear pastel-colored shirts and the boys can wear loafers
instead of oxfords.  Council members are allowed to sign out of study
hall when involved in school responsibilities and they can award
demerits to any pupil who breaks a school rule."

So that's what I fought so hard for, thought Florentyna, the chance to
wear a pastel-colored shirt and award demerits.

When she returned home that night, Florentyna told Miss Tredgold every
detail of what had happened and she glowed with pride as she repeated
the full result along with her new responsibilities.

"Who is poor Pete Welling," inquired Miss Tredgold, "who failed to be
elected by only one vote?"

"Serves him right," said Florentyna.  "Do you know what I said to that
creep when I passed him in the corridor?"

"No, I'm sure I don't," said Miss Tredgold apprehensively.  ""Now
you'll have to get in line, but your time will come," she said, and
burst out laughing.

"That was unworthy of you, Florentyna.  and indeed of me.  Be sure you
never in your life express such an opinion again.  The hour of t6umph
is not a time to belittle your rivals.  Rather, it is a time to be
magnanimous."

Miss Tredgold rose from her seat and retired to her room.

When Florentyna went to lunch the next day, Jason Morton took the seat
next to her.  "We're going to see a lot of each other now that you're
on the

Council," he said, and smiled.  Flornentyna.  didn't smile back, because
Jason had the same reputation among the pupils of Girls Latin as Pete
Welling and she was determined not to make a fool of herself a second
time.

Over lunch, they discussed the problem of the school orchestra's trip
to

Boston and what to do about the number of boys who had been caught
smoking.

Student councillors were limited in the punishments they were allowed
to impose, and study hall detention on Saturday morning was about the
most extreme terror they could evoke.  Jason told Florentyna that if
they went so far as to report the smokers to the headmaster, it would
undoubtedly mean expulsion for the students involved.  A dilemma had
arisen among the councillors because no one feared the Saturday
detention, and equally, no one believed anyone ever would be reported
to the headmaster.

"If we allow the smoking to go on," said Jason, "very soon we'll have
no authority at all unless we're determined to make a positive stand in
full

Council right from the beginning."

Florentyna agreed with him and was surprised by his next question.

"Would you be up for a game of tennis on Saturday afternoon?"

Florentyna remained silent for a moment.  "Yes," she said, trying to
sound casual as she remembered that he was captain of the tennis team
and her backhand was awful.

"Good, I'll pick you up at three o'clock.  Will that be okay?"

"Fine," said Florentyna, hoping she still sounded offhand.

"That tennis dress is far too short," said Miss Tredgold.

"I know," said Florentvna, "but it's last year's, and I've grown since
then."

"With whom are you playing?"

"Jason Morton."

"You really cannot play tennis in a dress like that with a young
man."

"It's either this or the nude," said Florentyna.

"Don't be cheeky with me, child.  I shall allow you to wear the garment
oil this occasion, but be assured I shall have acquired a new dress for
you by

Monday afternoon."

The front doorbell rang.  "He seems to have arrived," said Miss
Tred-old.

Florentyna picked up her racket and ran toward the door.

"Don't run, child.  Let the young man wait a little.  We can't have him
knowing how you feet about him, can we?"

Florentyna blushed, tied back her long dark hair with a ribbon and
~Nalked slowly to the front door.

"Hi, Jason," she said, her voice casual again.  "Won't you come in?"

Jason, who was dressed in a smart tennis outfit that looked as if it
had been bought that morning, couldn't take his eyes off Florentyna.
"What a dress," he ventured, and was about to say more when he saw Miss
Tredgold leaving the room.  He hadn't realized until that moment what a
good figure

Florentyna had.  The moment he set eyes on Nfiss Tredgold he knew why
he had never been allowed to find out.

"It's last year's, I'm afraid," said Florentyna, looking down at her
slim legs.  "It's awful, isn't it?"

"No, I think it's swell.  Come on, I've reserved a court for
three-thirty and someone else will grab it if we're a minute late."

"Good heavens," said Florentyna as she closed the front door.  "Is that
yours?"

"Yes.  Don't you think it's fantastic?"

"I would say, if asked to venture an opinion, that it had seen better
(lays."

"Oh, really?"  said Jason.  A thought it was rather snazzy."  "if I
knew what the word meant I might be able to agree with you.  Pray,
sir," she said mockingly, "am I expected to ride in that machine or
help push it?"

"That is a genuine pre-war Packard."

"Then it deserves an early burial," said Florentyna as she took her
seat in the front, suddenly realizing how much of her legs were
showing.

"Has anyone taught you how to propel this Jump of metal in a forward
direction?"  she inquired sweetly.

"No, not exactly," said Jason.

"What?"  said Florentyna in disbelief.

"I'm told driving is mostly common sense."

Florentyna pushed down the handle of her door, opening it slightly, as
it' to get out.  Jason put his hand on her thigh.  ~"Don't be silly
Tyna.  I was taught by my father and I've been driving for nearly a
year."

Florentyna blushed, closed the door again and had to admit to herself
that he drove rather well all the way to the tennis club even if the
car did rattle and bump as it went over the holes in the road.

The tennis match was a desperate affair with Florentyna trying hard to
win a point while Jason tried hard to lose one.  Somehow Jason managed
to win by only 6-2, 6- 1.

"What I need is a Coke," he said at the end of the match.

"What I need is a coach," said Florentyna.

He laughed and took her hand as they left the court, and even though
she felt sweaty and hot, he did not let her hand go until they reached
the bar at the back of the clubhouse.  He bought one Coke and they sat
drinking it from two straws in the corner ol .  the room.  When they
had finished, Jason drove her home.  On reaching Rigg Street, he leaned
over and kissed her on the lips.  Florentyna did not respond more out
of shock than for any other reason.

"Why don't you come to the movies with me tonight?"  he said.  "On the
Town is showing at the United Artists."

"Well, I normally .. . Yes, I'd like that," said Florentyna.

"Good, then I'll pick you tip at seven."

Florentyna watched the car as it chugged away, and tried to think of
some reason that would persuade her mother she had to be out that
evening.  She found Miss Tredgold preparing tea in the kitchen.

"A good iname chi id  asked Miss Tredgold.

"Not for Fiim, I'm afraid.  By the way, he wants to take me to"-she
hesitated-"to Orchestra Hall for a concert this evening so I won't need
any dinner."

"How nice," said Miss Tredgold.  "Be sure you're back before eleven or
your mother will worry."

Florentyna ran upstairs, sat on the end of the bed and started to think
about what she could possibly wear that evening, how awful her hair
looked and whether she could steal some of her mother's makeup.  She
stood in front of the mirror wondering how she could make her breasts
look bigger without holding her breath all night.

At seven o'clock Jason returned dressed in a red sloppy Joe sweater and
khakis anti was met at the door by Miss Tredgold.

"How & you do, young man."

"How do you do, ma'am," said Jason.

"Would you like to come into the drawing room?"

"Thank you," said Jason.

"And what is the concert you're taking Florentyna to?"

"The concert?"

"Yes, I wondered who was playing," said Miss Tredgold.  I read a good
review of Beethoven's Third in the morning paper.  "

"Oh, yeah, Beethoven's Third," said Jason, as Florentyna appeared on
the stairs.  Both Miss Tredgold and Jason were stunned.  One approved
while the other didn't.  Florentyna was wearing a green dress that fell
just below the knee and revealed the sheerest nylon stockings with dark
seams down the back.  She walked slowly down the stairs, her long legs
unsteady in high-heeled shoes, her small breasts looking larger than
usual, her shining dark hair hanging down to her shouilders,
reminiscent of Jennifer Jones, and making Florentyna appear a lot older
than her fifteen years.  The only item she wore to which Miss Tredgold
could take no exception was the watch she herself had ~Jven to
Florentyna on her thirteenth birthday.

"Come on, Jason, or we'll be late," said Florentyna, wanting to avoid
any conversation with Miss Tredgold.

"Sure thing," said Jason.  Florentyna did not look back once for fear
of being turned into a pillar of salt.

"Be sure she's home before eleven, young man," commanded Misi
Tredgold.

"Sure thing," repeated Jason as he closed the front door.  "Where did
you find her?"

"Miss Tretigold?"

"Yes, she's straight out of a Victorian novel.  "Be sure she's home
before eleven.  young man," he mimicked as he opened the car door for
her.

"Don't be rude," said Florentyna, and smiled at him coquettishly.

There was a long line outside the theater, and Florentyna spent most of
the time standing beside Jason facing the wall in case someone might
recognize her.  Once inside, Jason quickly guided her to the back row
with an air of having been there before.

She took her seat and when the lights went down she began to relax for
the first time-but not for long.  Jason leaned over, put his hand
around her shoulder and started kissing her.  She began to enjoy the
sensation as he forced her lips open and their tongues touched for the
first time.  Then he broke away and they watched the titles go up on
the screen.  Florentyna liked Gene Kelly.  Jason leaned over again and
pressed his mouth against hers.  Her lips parted.  Almost immediately
she felt a hand on her breast.  She tried to remove his fingers, but
once again his backhand was too strong for her.  After a few seconds
she came up for air and took a quick look at the Statue of Liberty be
tore Jason returned with his other hand and fondled her other breast.
This time she managed to push him away but only for a few moments.
Annoyed, he took out a package of

Camels and lit one.  Florentyna couldn't believe what was happening.
After a few puffs he stubbed the cigarette out and placed a hand
between her legs.  In near panic, she stopped any further advance by
squeezing tier thighs closely together.

"Oh, come on," said Jason.  "Don't he such a prude or you1l end up
like

Miss Tredgold," and he bent over to kiss her once again.

"For heaven's sake, Jason, let's watch the movie."

"Don't be silly.  No one goes to a movie house to watch a film."  He
put his hand back on her leg.  "Don't tell me you haven't done this
before.

Hell, you're sixteen.  What are you hoping to be'.) The oldest virgin
in

Chicago'?"

Florentyna jumped up and pushed her way out, stumbling over several
pairs of feet before she reached the aisle.  Without straightening her
dress, she ran out of the theater as fast as she could.  Once outside,
she attempted to run, but couldn't manage much more than a walking pace
in her mother's high heels, so she took the shoes off and ran in her
stocking feet.  When she reached the front door of her house she tried
to compose herself, hoping she could get up to her room without bumping
into

Miss Treelgold, but she failed.  Miss Tredgold's bedroom door was ajar
and as Florentvna tiptoed past, she said, "Concert over early, my
dear"

"Yes .. . no .. . I mean, I didn't feel very well," said Florentyna,
and she ran into her own room before Miss Tredgold could ask any more
questions.  She went to bed that night still trembling.

She woke early the next morning and although still angry with Jason,
she found herself laughing at what had taken place and even determined
to go and see the film again, on her own this time.  She liked Gene
Kelly, but it was the first time she had seen her real idol on the
screen, and she couldn't get over how skinn) and vulnerable he
looked.

At Student Council the next day, Florentyna could not make herself look
at Jason while he was stating in a quiet, firm voice that some senior
boys who were not members of the Council were becoming casual about
their dress.  He also added that the next person caught smoking would
have to be reported to the headmaster or his own reputation as
president would be undermined.  Everyone except Florentyna nodded in
agreement.

"Good, then I'll put a notice on the bulletin board to that effect. "

As soon as the meeting was over, Florentyna slipped off to class before
anyone could speak to her.  She finished study hall late that evening
and (lid not set off for Rigg Street until a few minutes after six
o'clock.

As she reached the main school door, it started to rain and she
remained under the archway, hoping the storm would bliow over quickly.
As she stood there, Jason walked straight past her with a girl from the
twelfth grade.  She watched them climb into his car and she bit her
lip, The rain came down harder, so she decided to return to her
classroom and type up the minutes of the Student Council meeting.  On
her way back into school she passed a small crowd studying a notice on
the board that confirmed the

Council's attitude toward sloppy dress~ and smoking.

Florentyna took about an hour to complete the minutes of the Council
meeting, partly because her mind wandered continually.  back- to
Jason's double standards.  The rain had stopped by the time she
finished her typing and she closed her typewriter case and placed the
minutes in her desk.  As she walked back down the corridor, she thought
she heard a noise coming from the boys' locker room.  No one except
members of the Student

Council was allowed to remain in school after seven o'clock without
special permission, so she turned back to see who it was.  When she was
a few yards away from the locker room, the light under the door went
off.

She walked over and opened the door and switched the light back on.  It
was a few seconds before Florentynafocused on him standing in the
corner, trying to hide a cigarette behind his back, but he knew she had
seen it.

"Pete," she said in surprise.

"Well, Miss Student Councillor, you've caught me once and for all.  Two
major offenses in one day.  In school after hours, and smoking.  Bang
goes my chance of making Harvard," Pete Welling said as he ground out
the cigarette on the stone floor.  The vision of the

Student Council president stubbing out his cigarette at the movie on

Saturday night came back to her.

"Jason Morton is hoping to go to Harvard, isn't he?"

"Yes.  What's that got to do with it?"  said Pete.  "Nothing will stop
him making the Ivy League."

"I just remembered.  No girl is allowed in the boys' locker room at any
time."

"Yes, but you're a member of-"

"Good night, Pete."

Florenlyna began to enjoy the new authority and took her duties an~
responsibilities on the Student Council very seriously, so much so that
as the year passed, Miss Tredgold feared that Florentyna's academic
work was suffering because of it.  She did not comment on the matter to
Mrs.

Rosnovski; rather, she considered it her duty to find a solution.  She
hoped that Florentyna's attitude might be nothing more than an
adolescent phase of misplaced enthusiasm.  Even Miss Trecigold, despite
past experience of such problems, was surprised by how quickly
Florentyna had changed since being entrusted with a little power.

By the middle of the second term Miss Tredgold realized that the
problem was past that stage and fast becoming out of control.
Florentyna was beginning to take herself, and not her work, far too
s~eriously.  Her end-of-term report was far from good by her normal
high standards, and

Florentyna's homeroom teacher more than hinted that she was becoming
highhanded with some of the other students and giving out demerits a
little too freely.

Miss Tredgold could not help noticing that Florentyna had not been
receiving as many invitations to parties as she had in the past and her
friends did not seem to drop by Rigg Street quite so frequently, except
for the loyal Edward Winchester..  .. Miss Tredgold liked that boy.

Matters did not improve during the spring term and Florentyna began to
be evasive when Miss Tredgold broached the subject of uncompleted
homework.  Zaphia, who had compensated for the loss of a husband by
gaining ten pounds, was uncooperative.  "I haven't noticed anything
unusual" was her only comment when Miss Tredgold tried to discuss the
prob term

Miss 1'red gold pursed her lips and began to despair when one mo ming
at breakfast Florentyna was downright rude when asked what she had
planned to do for the weekend '

"I'll Ict you know if it concerns you," she said without looking up
from

Vogue.  Mrs.  Rosnovski showed no sign of noticing, io Miss Tredgold
maintained a stony silence, judging that sooner or later the child was
bound to discover that pride goeth before a fall.

It came sooner.

"THERE'SNO REASON FOR YOU TO BE THAT CONFIDENT," said Edward.

"Why?  Who's going to beat me?  I've been on the Council for nearly a
year and everyone else on it is graduating," said Florentyna, lounging
back in one of the horsehair chairs reserved for members of the
Student

Council.

Edward remained standing.  "Yes, I realize that, but not everyone likes
you."

"What do you mean?"

"A lot of people think that since you've been on the Council, you've
become a bit too big for your boots."

"I hope you're not among them, Edward."

"No, I'm not.  But I am worried that if you don't bother to mix a
little more with the students in the lower grades, you might be
beaten."

"Don't be silly.  Why should I bother to get to know them when they
already know me?"  she asked, fiddling with sonic papers on the armrest
of her chair.

"What's come over you, Florentyna?  You didn't act like this a year
ago," said Fdward, looking down.

"If you don't like the way I carry out my duties, go and support
someone else."

"It has nothing to do with the way you carry out your duties-everyone
acknowledges you've been the best secretary anyone can remember-but
different qualities are needed for president."

"Thank you for the advice, Edward, but you will discover that I can
survive without it."

"Then you won't want me to help you this year?"

"Edward, you still haven't got the message.  It's not a case of not
wanting you but simply not needing you."

"I wish you luck, Florentyna, and I only hope I'm proved wrong."

"I don't need your luck either.  Some things in this life depend on
ability."

Florentyna did not repeat this conversation to Miss Tredgold.

At the end of the academic year, Florentyna was surprised to find that
she had finished first in only Latin and French and overall had fallen
to third in the class.  Miss Tredgold read her report card carefully
and it confirmed her worst fears, but she concluded there was no point
in making any adverse comment to the child as she had stopped taking
anyone's advice unless it confirmed her own opinions.  Once again,

Florentyna spent the sum mei vacation in New York with her father, who
allowed her to work as an assistant in one of the hotel shops.

Florentyna rose early each morning and dressed in the pastel green
uniform of a junior member of the hotel staff.  She threw all her
energy into learning how the little fashion shop was run and was soon
putting forward new ideas to Miss Parker, the manager, who was
impressed-and not just because she was the Baron*s daughter.  As the
days passed, Florentyna gained more confidence and, conscious of the
power of her privileged position, she stopped wearing the shop uniform
and even started to order some of the junior sales staff around.  She
was, however, sufficiently cautious never to do this in front of Miss
Parker.

One Friday, when Miss Parker was in her office checking the morning
petty cash, Jessie Kovats, a junior sales assistant, arrived ten
minutes late.

Florentyna was standing at the door waiting for her.

"You're late again," said Florentyna, but Jessie didn't bother to
reply.

"Did you hear me, Miss Kovats?"  demanded Florentyna.

"Sure did," said Jessie, hanging up her raincoat.

"Then what is your excuse this time'?"

"For you, I don't have to have an excuse."

"We'll see about that," said Florentyna, starting off toward Miss

Parker's office.

"Don't bother yourself, bossy boots.  I've had enough of you in any
case," said Jessie, who walked into Miss Parker's office and closed the
door behind her.  Florentyna pretended to be tidying the counter while
she waited for Jessie to return.  A few minutes litter the young
assistant came out of the office, put her coat back on and left the
shop without another word.  Florentyna felt pleased with the result of
her admonition.  A few minutes later Miss Parker,came out of her
office.

"Jessie tells me she's leaving the shop because of you."

"Miss Kovats is hardly a great loss," volunteered Florentyna.  "She
didn't exactly pull her weight."

"That is not the point, Florentyna.  I have to continue to run this
shop after you return to school."

"Perhaps by then we shall have weeded out the Jessie Kovatses of this
world who shouldn't, after all, be wasting my father's time and
money."

"Miss Rosnovski, this is a team.  Not everyone can be clever and
bright, or even hard-working, but within their limited abilities they
do the best they can, and there have been no complainLs in the past."

"Could that possibly be because my father is too busy to keep a
watchful eye on you, Miss Parker?"

Miss Parker visibly flushed and steadied herself on the counter  "I
think the time has come for you to work in another of your father's
shops.  I have served him for nearly twenty years and he has never
ojice spoken to me in such a discourteous way.  "

"Perhaps the time has come for you to work in another shop," said

I'lorentyna, "and preferably not my father's."  Walking out (,f the
front door, she made straight for the hotel's private elevator and
pressed the button marked "42."  On arrival, Florentyna infOrmed her
father's secretary that she needed to speak to him immediately.

"He's chairing a board meeting at the moment, Miss Rosnovski."

"Then interrupt him and tell him that I wish to see him."

The secretary hesitated, then buzzed through to Mr.  Rosnovski.

I thought I told you not to disturb me, Miss Deneroff."

"I apologize, sir, but your daughter is here and insists on seeing
you."

There was a pause.  "All right, send her in."

I am sorry, Papa, hut this is something that can't wait," Florentyna
said as she entered the room, feeling suddenly less sure of herself as
the eight men around the boardroom table rose.  Abel guided her through
to his own office.

"Well, what is it that can't wait, my darling?"

"It's Mi~s Parker.  She's stuffy, incompetent and stupid."  said
Florentyna, and she poured out to her father her version of what had
happened that morning with Jessie Kovats.

Abel's fingers never stopped tapping on his desktop as he listened to
her tale.  When she came to the end he flicked a switch on his
intercom.  "Please ask Miss Parker in the fashion shop to come up
immediately."

"Thank you, Papa."

"Florentyna, would you be kind enough to wait next door while I deal
with

Miss Parker."

"Of course, Papa."

A few minutes later, Miss Parker appeared, still looking flushed.  Abel
asked her what had happened.  She gave an ac curate account of the
altercation, confining her view of Flo rentyna to the fact that she was
a competent assistant but she had been the sole reason that Miss
Kovats, a long-serving member of her staff, had left.  And others, Miss
Parker pointed out, might resign too if Florentyna persisted with her
attitude.

Abel listened, barely con tro Uing his anger.  He gave Miss Parker his
opinion and told her that later that day she would receive a letter by
hand confirming his decision.

"If that is what you wish, sir," sit id Miss Parker, and left.

Abel buzzed his ,ecretary.  "Would you please ask my daughter to come
back in, Miss Deneroff.  "

Florewyna strode in.  "Did you tell Miss Parker what you thought,
Papa?"

"Yes, I (lid."

"She'll find it hard to get another job

"She won't need to."

"Won't need to?"

"No.  I gave her a raise and extended her contract," he said, leaning
forward and placing both hands firmly on his desk.  "if you ever treat
a member of my staff that way again, I'll put you over my knee and
thrash you and it won't be a gentle tap with a hairbrush.  Jessie
Kovats has already left because of your insufferable behavior and it is
obvious no one in that shop likes you.  "

Florentyna stared at her father in disbelief, then burst into tears.

"And you can save your tears for someone else," continued Abel remorse
less) y.They don't impress me.  I shouldn't have to remind you that I
have a company to run.  Another week of you and I would have had a
crisis on my hands.  You will now go down to Miss Parker and apologize
for your disgraceful behavior.  You will also stay away from my shops
until I decide you are ready to work in them again.  And that is the
last time you interrupt one of my board meetings.  Do you
understand?"

"But, Papa-"

"No buts.  You will apologize to Miss Parker immediately."

Florentyna ran out of her father's office and returned to her room in
tear~, packed her bags, left her green pastel dress on the bedroom
floor and took a cab to the airport.

On lea ming of her departure, Abel phoned Miss Tredgold, who listened
to what had taken place with dismay, but not with surprise.

When Florentyna arrived home, her mother was still away at a health spa
trying to shed a few unwanted pounds.  Only Miss Tredgold was there to
greet her.

"You're back a week early, I observe."

"Yes, I got bored with New York."

"Don't lie, child."

"Must you pick on me as well?"  said Florentyna, and ran upstairs to
her room.  That weekend she locked herself in and only crept down to
the kitchen at odd times for meals.  Miss Tredgold made no attempt to
see her.

On the first day of school Florentyna put on one of the smart pastel
shirts with the new-style button-down collar she had bought at
Bergdorf

Goodman.  She knew it would make every other girl at Girls Latin
jealous.

She was going to show them all how a future president of the Student

Council should behave.  As no member of Council could be elected for
two weeks, she wore a shirt of a different color every day and took
upon herself the responsibilities of president.  She even started to
think about what type of car she would talk her father into when she
had won the election.  At all times she avoided Edward Winchester, who
had put his own name forward for Council, and she laughed openly at any
comments made about his popularity.  On the Monday of the third week,
Florentyna went to morning assembly to hear herself confirmed as the
new student president.

When Miss Allen, the headmistress, had read out the full list,
Florentyna could not believe her cars.  She had not even finished in
the first six.

In fact, she was only barely the runner up and of all people, Edward

Winchester had been elected president.  As The left the hall, no one
commiserated with her and she spent the day in a silent daze at the
back of the class room.  When she returned home that night, she crept
up to Miss Tredgold's room and knocked gently on the door.

"Come.  "

Florentyna opened the door slowly and looked toward Miss Tredgold, who
was reading at her desk.

"They didn't make me president," she said quietly.  "In fact, they
didn't even elect me to the Council."

"I know," Miss Tredgold replied, closing her Bible.

"How can you have known?"  asked Florentyna.

"Because I wouldn't have voted for you myself."  The governess
paused.

"But that's an end of the matter, child."

Florentvna ran across the room and threw her arms around Miss Tredgold,
who held her tight.

"Good, now we shall have to start rebuilding bridges, Dry your tears,
my dear, and we shall begin immediately.  There is no time to be lost.
Pad and pencil are needed."

Florentyna wrote down the list dictated by Miss Tredgold and did not
argue with any of her instructions.  That night she wrote long letters
to her father, Miss Parker-enclosing another letter for Jessie
Kovats-Edward

Winchester, and finally, although the name was not on her list, to
Miss

Tredgold.  The next day she went to confession with Father O'Reilly. On
returning to school, Florentyna helped the newly appointed secretary
with her first minutes, showing her the system she had found to work
most satisfactorily.  She wished the new president ILIck and promised
that she would help him and his Council if she was ever needed.  She
spent the next week answering any queries that came up from the student
councillors but never volunteered advice.  When Edward met her in the
corridor a few days later he told her that the Council had voted to
allow her to keep all her privileges.  Miss Tredgold advised her to
accept Edward's kind offer with courtesy but at no time to take
advantage of it.  Florentyna put all her new New York shirts in a
bottom drawer and locked them away.

A few days later the headmistress called for her.  Florentyna feared it
would take longer to regain her respect, however determined she was to
do so.  When Florentyna arrived at her study, the tiny, immaculately
dressed woman gave her a friendly smile and motioned to a comfortable
seat by her side.

"You must have, been very disappointed by the election results."

"Yes, Miss Allen," said Florentyna, assuming she was to receive further
chastisement.

"But by all accounts you have learned greatly from the experience and I
suspect you will be wanting to make amends."

"It's too late, Miss Allen.  I leave at the end of the year and can now
never be president."

"True, true.  So we must look for other mountains to climb.  I retire
at the end of the year, having been headmistress for twenty-five years,
and I confess there is little left that I wish to achieve.  The boys
and girls of

Latin have excellent admission records to Harvard, Yale.  Radcliffe
and

Smith, and we have always been better than every other school in
Illinois and as good as any on the East Coast.  However, there is one
achievement that has eluded me."

"What's that, Miss Allen?"

"The boys have won every major scholarship to the Ivy League
universities at least once, Princeton three times, but one scholarship
has eluded the girls for a quarter of a century.  That is the James
Adams Woolson Prize

Scholarship in the Classics at Radcliffe.  I wish to enter your name
for that scholarship.  Should you win the prize, my cup will be
full."

"I would like to try," said Florentyna, "but my record lately-"

"Indeed," said the headmistress, "but as Mrs.  Churchill pointed out
to

Winston when he was surprisingly beaten in an election, "That may yet
turn out to be a blessing in disguise."  ""Some dispuise."  They both
smiled.

That night, Florentyna studied the entry form for the James A-dams
Woolson

Prize.  The scholarship was open to every girl in America between the
ages of sixteen and eighteen on July I of that ~ear.  There were three
papers, one for Latin, one for Greek and a general paper on current
affairs.

During the cri suing weeks, Florentyna spoke only Latin and Greek to
Miss

I'redgold before breakfast, and every weekend Miss Allen assigned her
three general questions to be completed by the following Monday
morning.  As the examination day drew nearer, Florentyna became aware
that the hopes of the whole school went with her.  She sat awake at
night with Cicero, Virgil,

Plato and Aristotle, and every morning after breakfast she would write
five hundred words on such varied subjects as the Twenty-second
Amendment, the significance of President Truman's power over Congress
during the Korean

War-even on the impact that television would have in going
nationwide.

At the end of each day, Miss Tredgold checked through Florentyna's
work, adding footnotes and comments before they would both collapse
into bed.  only to be up at six-thirty the next morning to work their
way through further old scholarship examination papers.  Far from
gaining confidence, Florentyna confided to Miss Tredgold that she
became more frightened as each day passed.

The prize exam was set for early March at Radcliffe, and on the eve of
departure day Florentyna unlocked her bottom drawer and selected her
favorite of the New York shirts.  Miss Tredgold accompanied her to the
station and the few words they spoke on the way were in Greek.  Her
final words were: "Don't spend the longest time on the easiest
question."

When they reached the platform, Florentyna felt an arm encircle her
waist and a rose appeared in front of her.

"Edward, you nut."

"That is not the way to address the president of the Student Council.

Don't bother to come back if you fail to win the Woolson Prize," he
said, and kissed her on the check.

Neither of them noticed the smile on Miss Tredgold's face.

Florentyna found a car that was virtually empty.  She would remember
very little of the journey, for she rarely looked up from her copy of
the

Oresteia.

When she arrived in Boston, she was met by a Ford "Woody" station
wagon, which took her and four other girls who must have been on the
same train to the Radcliffe yard.  During the journey spasmodic
exchanges of polite conversation punctuated long, tense silences.
Florentyna was relieved to find that she had been put in a residential
house at 55 Garden Street in a room of her own: she hoped she would be
able to conceal how nervous she was.

At six o'clock the girls all met in Longfellow Hall, where the dean of
instruction, Mrs.  Wilma Kirby-Miller, reviewed the details of the
examination,

"Tomorrow, ladies, between nine and twelve, you will write the Latin
paper, and in the afternoon between three and six, the Greek paper. The
following morning you will complete the examination with the general
paper on current affairs.  It would be foolish to wish everyone
success, as you cannot all expect to win the Woolson Prize, so I will
only express the hope that when you have completed the three papers,
each and every one of you will feel that you could not have done
better."

Florentyna returned to her room in Garden Street conscious of how
little -The knew and feeling very lonely.  She went down to the ground
floor and called her mother and Miss Tredgold on the pay phone, The
next morning she woke at three and read a few pages of Aristotle's
Politics, but nothing would stick.  When she came downstairs at seven,
she walked around Radcliffe Yard several times before going to Agassiz
House for breakfast.  She found two telegrams awaiting her, one from
her father wishing her luck and inviting her to join him for a trip to
Europe in the summer.  The second, from Miss Tredgold, read: "The only
thing we have to fear is fear itself."

After breakfast, she walked once again around the yard, this time with
several other girls, before taking her place in Longfellow Hall.  Two
hundred forty-three girls waited for the clock to chime nine, when the
proctors allowed them to open the little brown envelopes placed on the
desk in front of them.  Florentyna read through the Latin paper once
quickly and then again carefully, before selecting those questions that
she felt best equipped to answer.  At twelve the clock struck again and
her blue books were taken away from her.  She returned to her room and
read Greek for two hours, eating a solitary Hershey bar for lunch.  In
the afternoon she attempted three questions in Greek.  At six she was
penning emendations when the paper had to be handed in.  She walked
back to her little room in Garden

Street exhausted, fell onto the narrow bed and didn't stir until it was
time to eat.  Over a late dinner, she listened to the same
conversations with different accents from Philadelphia to Houston, and
from Detroit to

Atlanta: it was comforting to discover that everyone was as nervous
about the outcome of the examination as she was.  Florentyna knew that
almost everyone who took the scholarship examination would be offered a
place at

Radcliffe, and twenty-two could be awarded scholarships; but only one
would win the James Adams Woolson Prize.

On the second day she opened the brown envelope containing the general
paper fearing the worst but relaxed a little when she read the first
question: "What changes would have taken place in America if the

Twenty-second Amendment had been passed before Roosevelt became
President?"

She began to write furiously.

On Florentyna's return to Chicago, Miss Treelgold was standing on the
platform waiting for her.

"I shall not ask if you consider you have won the prize, my dear, only
it you did as well as you had hoped."

"Yes," said Florentyna, after some thought.  "If I don't win a
scholarship, it will be because I am not good enough."

"You can ask for no more, child, and neither can I, so the time has
come to tell you that I shall be returning to England in July."

"Why?"  said Florentyna, stunned.

"What do you imagine there is left for me to do for you, now that
you're off to university?  I have been offered the post of head of the
classics department at a girls' school in the west country of F.ngland,
starting in

September, and I have accepted.  " ""You could not leave me if you knew
how much I loved you.  , "

Miss Trettgold smiled at the quotation and produced the next line. "'it
is because of how much I love you that I must now leave you,
Perdano."

Florentyrta took her hand, and Miss Tredgold smiled at the beautiful
young woman who could already make men's heads turn as the two women
passed by.

The next few weeks at school were not easy for Florentyna as she waited
for the exam results.  She tried to assure Edward that at least He was
certain to gain a place at Harvard.

"They have more sports fields than lecture halls," she teased, so you
can't fail."

He could fail and she knew it, and as each day passed, the hopes of
both turned to fears.  Florentyna had been told that the results of the
examination would he known on April 14.  On that morning the
headmistress called Florentyna to her study and sat her in a corner of
the room while she called the registrar at Radcliffe.  The registrar
already had several people holding to speak to her.  At last she took
Miss Allen's call.

"Would you be kind enough to let me know if a Miss Florentyna Rosnovski
has won a scholarship to Radcliffe?"  asked the headmistress.

There was a long pause.  "How do you spell that name?"

"R-0-S-N-0-V-S-K-U'

Another pause.  Florentyna clenched her fist.  Then the registrar's
voice, audible to them both, came over the line: "No.  I am sorry to
tell you that

Miss Rosnovski's name is not among the list of scholars, but more than
seventy percent of those who took the scholarship examination will be
offered a place at Radcliffe and will be hearing from us in the next
few days."

Neither Miss Allen nor Florentyna could mask their disappointment. As

Florentyna came out of the study she found Edward waiting for her.  He
threw his arms around her and almost shouted, "I'm going to Harvard.
And how about you?  Did you win the Woolson?"  But he could see the
answer in her face.  "I'm sorry," he said.  "How thoughtless of me,"
and held her in his arms as the tears came.  Some younger girls who
passed them giggled.  Edward took her home and she, Miss Tredgold and
her mother ate dinner together in silence.

Two weeks later, on Parents' Day, Miss Allen presented Florentyna with
the school Classics Prize, but it was no consolation.  Hor mother and
Miss

Tredgold applauded politely, but Florentyna had told her father not to
come to Chicago as there was nothing particular to celebrate.

After the presentation, Miss Allen tapped the lectern in front of her
before she started to speak.  "In all my years at Girls Latin," said
the headmistress in clear, resonant tones, "it has been no secret that
I wanted a pupil to win the James Adams Woolson Prize Scholarship to
Radcliffe."

Florentyna stared down at the wooden floorboard between her feet.  "And
this year," continued Miss Allen, "I was convinced that we had produced
our finest scholar in twenty-five years and that my dream would be
realized.

Two weeks ago, I phoned Radcliffe to discover our entrant had not won a
scholarship, But today I received a telegram that is nevertheless worth
reading to you."

Florentyna sat back, hoping her father was not responsible for some
embarrassing message of congratulation.

Miss Allen put on her reading spectacles.  ""Name of Florentyna
Rosnovski not announced among general scholars because happy to info
ring you she is winner of James Adams Woolson Prize  Please telegraph
acceptance."  The room erupted as pupils and parents cheered.  Miss
Allen raised a hand, and the hall fell silent.  "After twenty-five
years I should have remembered that the Woolson is always announced
separately at a later day.  You must put it down to old age."  There
was a polite ripple of laughter before Miss

Allen continued: "There are those of us here who believe that
Florentyna will go on to serve her college and country in a manner that
can only reflect well upon this school.  I now have only one wish left:
that I live long enough to witness it."

Florentyna stood and looked toward her mother.  Large tears were
coursing down Zaphia's cheeks.

No one present would have realized that the lady seated bolt upright
next to Zaphia, staring straight ahead, was reveling in the applause.

Much happiness and sadness now surrounded Florentyna, but nothing was
to compare with her farewell to Miss Tredgold.  On the train journey
from

Chicago to New York, during which

Florentyna tried to express her love and gratitude, she handed the
older woman an envelope.

"What's this, child'?"  asked Miss Tredgold.

"The four thousand shares of the Baron Group which we have earned over
the past four years."

"But that includes your shares as well as mine, my dear."

"No," said Florentyna, "it doesn't take into account my saving on the

Woolson Prize Scholarship."

Miss Tredgold made no reply.

An hour later, Miss Tredgold stood on the dock in New York's Hudson
River waiting to board her ship, finally to release her el,arge to
adult life.

I shall think of you from time to time, my dear," she said, and hope
that my father was right about destiny."  Florentyna kissed Miss

Tredgold on both cheeks and watched her mount the gangplank.  When she
reached the deck, Miss Tredgold turned, waved a gloved hand once and
then hailed a porter, who picked tip her bags and followed the
stern-looking lady toward her cabin.  She did not once look at
Florentyna, who stood like a ,tatue on the pier holding back the tears
because she knew Miss Tredgold would not approve.

When Miss Tredgold reached her berth, she tipped the porter fifty cents
and locked the door.

Winifred Tredgold sat down on the end of the bunk and wept unashamedly.


FLORENTYNA HAD NOT BEEN SO UNSURE about anything since her first day at
the

Girls Latin School.  When she returned from her sum mei holiday in
Europe with her father a thick manila envelope from Radcliffe was
awaiting her.  It contained all the details of when and where she
should report, what to wear, a course catalogue and the "Red Book"
detailing Radcliffe rules.

Florentyna sat on her bed studiously taking in page after page of
information until she came to Rule I I a: If you entertain a man in
your room for tea, at all times the door must be kept ajar, and all
four feet must always be touching the Door.  Florentyna burst out
laughing at the thought that the first time she made love it might be
standing up, behind an open door, holding a cup of tea.

As the time drew nearer for her to leave Chicago, she began to realize
just how much she had depended on Miss Tredgold.  She packed three
large suitcases, including all the new clothes she had bought on her
European trip.  Her mother, looking elegant in the latest Chanel suit,
drove

Florentyna to the station.  When she boarded the train she was suddenly
aware it was the first time she had traveled anywhere for any period of
time without knowing somebody at the other end.

She arrived in Boston to find New England a beautiful contrast of
September greens and yellows.  An old school bus was waiting to
transport students to the campus.  As the ancient vehicle crossed the
Charles, Florentyna looked through the back window to see the sun
glinting off the dome of the State

House.  A few sails dotted the water, and eight enthusiastic students
were pulling their oars through the wash while an older man on a
bicycle shouted orders through a megaphone as he rode along the
towpath.  When the bus came to a halt at Radcliffe, a middle-agod woman
in academic dress herded the freshmen into Longfellow Hall, where

Florentyna had taken the Woolson exam.  There they were briefed on
which hall they would live in during their first year and their rooms
were allocated to them.  Florentyna drew room 7 in Whitman Hall.  A
sophomore helped her carry her bags across to Whitman and then left her
to unpack.

The room smelled as if the painters had moved out only the day
before.

It was clear that she was to share with two other girls: there were
three beds, three dressers, three desks, three desk chairs, three desk
lamps, three pillows, three coverlets and three sets of blankets,
according to the checklist that was left on the inside of the door.  As
there was no sign of her roommates, The chose the bed nearest the
window and started to unpack.  She was just about to unlock the last
suitcase when the door was flung open and a large valise landed in the
middle of the room.

"Hi," said a voice that sounded to Florentyna more like a foghorn than
a freshman from Radcliffe.  "My name is Bella Hellaman.  I'm from San

Francisco."

Bella shook hands with Florentyna, who immediately regretted the act as
she smiled up at the six-foot giant who must have weighed well over two
hundred pounds.  Bella looked like a double bass and sounded like a
tuba.

She began to size up the room.

"I knew tney wouldn't have a bed large enough for me," was her next
pronouncement.  "My headmistress did warn me that I should have applied
to a men's college."

Flornentyna burst out laughing.

"You won't laugh so loud when I keep you awake all night.  I toss and
turn so much you'll think you're on board a ship," Bella warned as she
pushed open the window above Florentyna's bed to let in the cool Boston
air.

"What time do they serve dinner at this place?  I haven't had a decent
meal since I left California."

"I've no idea, but it's all in the Red Book," said Florentyna, picking
up her copy from the side of her bed.  She started flicking through the
pages until she reached "Meals, times of."  "Dinner, six-thirty to
seven-thirty."

"Then at the stroke of six-thirty," Bella said, "I shall be under
starter's orders at the dining room door.  Have you found out where the
gymnasium is?"

"To be honest, I haven't," said Flcrentyna grinning.  "It wasn't high
on my list of priorities for the first day."

There was a knock on the door, and Bella shouted, "Come in." Florentyna
later learned that it had not been a shout, just her normal speaking
voice.

Into the room stepped a Dresden china blonde, not a hair out of place,
dressed in a neat dark blue suit.  She smiled, revealing a set of
small, even teeth.  Bella smiled back at her as though her dinner had
arrived early.

"My name is Wendy Brinklow," said a voice with a slight southern
accent.  "I think I'm sharing a room with you."  Florentyna wanted to
warn her about

Bella's handshake, but it was too late.  She watched Wendy cringe.

"You'll have to sleep over there," Bella said, pointing to the
remaining bed.  "You don't by any chance know where the gymnasium is,
do you?"

"Why should Radcliffe need a gymnasium?"  said Wendy as Bella helped
her in with her suitcases.  Bella and Wendy started to unpack and
Florentyna fiddled with her books, trying not to make it too obvious
that she was fascinated by what came out of Bella's suitcases.  First
there were goalie pads, a breast pad, and two pairs of cleats, then a
face mask, which

Florentyna tried on, and finally a pair of hockey gloves, all in
addition to the two hockey sticks she had had strapped to the valise
she had earlier flung into the room.  Wendy had all her clothes in neat
little piles packed away in her dresser before Bella had even worked
out where to put her hockey sticks.  Eventually she just threw them
under the bed.

When they had finished unpacking, the three girls set off for the
dining hall.  Bella was the first to reach the cafeteria line and
loaded her plate so full with meat and vegetables that she had to
balance it on the palm of her hand.  Florentyna helped herself to what
she considered a normal amount and Wendy managed a couple of spoonfuls
of salad.  Florentyna was beginning to feel they resembled Goldilocks's
three bears.

Two of them had the sleepless night Bella had promised Florentyna and
it was several weeks before either she or Wendy managed eight hours of
uninterrupted sleep.  Years later, Florentyna discovered that she could
sleep anywhere, even in a crowded airport lounge, thanks to spending
her freshman year with Bella.

Bella was the first freshman to play goalie for the Radcliffe varsity
and she spent the year happily terrifying anyone who dared to try to
score against her.  She always shook hands with the few who did.  Wendy
spent much of the time being chased by men who visited the campus and
some of the time being caught.  She also passed more hours reading the
Kinsey Report than her class notes.

"Darlings," she said, eyes saucer-wide, "it's a serious piece of
academic work written by a distinguished professor."

"The first academic work to sell over a million copies," commented
Bella, as she picked up her hockey sticks and left the room,

Wendy, seated in front of the one mirror in the room, was checking her
lipstick.

"Who's it this time?"  asked Florentyna.

"No one in particular," she replied.  "But Dartmouth has sent their
tennis team over to play Harvard and I couldn't think of a more
pleasant way to spend the afternoon.  Do you want to come along?"

"No thanks, but I would like to know the secret of how you find them,"
said

Florentyna, looking at herself appraisingly in the mirror.  "I can't
remember when anyone other than Edward last asked me out."

"It doesn't take a lot of research," said Wendy.  "Perhaps you put them
off."

"How?"  asked Flornentyna, turning toward her.

Wendy put down her lipstick and picked up a comb.  "You're too
obviously bright and intelligent, and not many men can handle that. You
frighten them and that's not good for their egos.  "

Florentyna laughed.

"I'm serious.  How many men would have dared to approach your beloved
Miss

Tredgold, let alone make a pass at her?"

"So what do you suggest I do about it?"  asked Florentyna.

"You're good-looking enough, and I don't know anyone with a better
dress sen.w, so just act dumb and massage their ego; then they feel
they have to take care of you.  It always works for me."

"But how do you stop them thinking they have the right to jump into bed
with you after one hamburger?"

"Oh, I usually get three or four steaks before I let them try anything.
And just occasionally I say yes."

"That's ~11 very well, but how did you handle it the first time?"

"God knows," said Wendy.  "I can't remember that far back."

Florentyna laughed again.

"If you come to the tennis with me you might get lucky.  After all,
_there'll be five other men from Dartmouth, not to mention the six on
the

Harvard team."

"No, I can't," Florentyna said regretfully.  "I still have an essay
on

Oedipus to finish by six o'clock."

"And we all know what happened to him," said Wendy, grinning.

Despite their different interests, the three girls became inseparable,
and

Florentyna and Wendy would always spend Saturday afternoons watching
Bella play hockey.  Wendy even learned to scream "Kill 'em," from the
sidelines, although it didn't sound very convincing.  It was a hectic
first year and

Florentyna enjoyed regaling her father with stories of Radcliffe, Bella
and

Wendy.

She had to study hard as her advisor, Miss Rose, was quick to point out
that the Woolson Scholarship came up for renewal every year and that it
would do neither of their reputations any good if the prize were
withdrawn,

At the end of the year Florentyna's grades were more than satisfactory
and she had also found time to join the Debating Society and was made
freshman representative for the Radcliffe Democratic Club.  But she
felt her greatest achievement was trouncing Bella on the Fresh Pond
golf course by seven strokes.

In the summer vacation of 1952, Flornentyna only spent two weeks in New
York with her father because she had applied to be a page at the
Chicago convention.

Once Florentyna had returned to her mother in Illinois she threw
herself back into politics.  The Republican Party convention had been
held in the city two weeks earlier and the GOP had chosen Dwight D.
Eisenhower and

Richard Nixon as their candidates.  Florentyna couldn't see how the

Democrats would come up with anyone to challenge Eisenhower, the
biggest national, hero since.  Teddy Roosevelt.  "I Like Ike" buttons
were everywhere.

When on July 21 the Democratic convention opened, Florentyna was given
the job of showing VIPs to their seats on the speakers' platform.
During those four days she learned two things of value.  The first was
the importance of contacts, and the second the vanity of politiciails.
Twice during the four days she placed senators in the wrong seats and
they could not have made more tuss if she had ushered them into the
electric chair.

The brightest moment of her week came when a good-looking young
congressman from Massachusetts asked her where she was at college.

"When I was at Harvard," he said, "I spent far too much of my time at

Radcliffe.  They tell me now it's the other way around."

Florentyna wanted to say something witty and bright that he would
remember but nothing came out, and it was many years before she saw
John Kennedy again.

The climax of the convention came when she watched the delegates
select

Adlai Stevenson as their standard-bearer.  She had greatly admired him
when he was governor of Illinois, but Florentyna (lid not believe that
such an academic man could hope to defeat Eisenhower on Election Day.
Despite the shouting, cheering and singing of "Happy Days Are Here
Again," not everybody in that hall seemed to believe it either.

Once the convention was over, Florentyna went back to Henry Osborne's
headquarters to try to help him retain his seat in Congress.  This time
she was put in charge of the switchboard inquiries, but the
responsibility gave her little pleasure, for she had known for some
time that the congressman was not respected by his party workers, let
alone by his constituents.  His reputation a" a drinker and his second
divorce were not helping him with the!  middle-class voters in his
district.

Florentyna found him all too casual and glib about the trust the voters
had placed in him and she began to see why people had so little faith
in their elected representatives.  That faith took another blow when
Eisenhower's

Vice Presidential candidate, Richard Nixon, addressed the nation on

September 23 to explain away an $18,000 slush fund, which he claimed
had been set up for him by a group of millionaire backers as "necessary
political expenses" and for "exposing Communists."

On the day of the election, Florentyna and her fellow workers were halt
hearted about both of their candidates, and those feelings were
reflected at the polls.  Eisenhower won the election by the largest
popular vote in American history, 33,936,234 to 27,314,992.  Among the
casualties removed in the Republican landslide was Representative
Osborne.

Disenchanted with politics, Florentyna returned to Radcliffe for her
sophomore year and put all her energy into her studies.  Bella had been
elected captain of hockey, the first sophomore to be so honored.  Wendy
claimed to have fallen in love with a Dartmouth tennis player named
Roger and, taking fashion advice from Florentyna, started studying
bridal gowns in Vogue.  Although they now all had single rooms in
Whitman, the three girls saw each other regularly.  Florentyna never
missed a hockey game, come i am or snow, both of which Cambridge
frequently endured, while Wendy introduced her to several men who never
quite seemed worthy of the third of fourth steak.

It was halfway through the spring semester that Florentyna returned to
her room to find Wendy sitting on the floor in tears.

"What's the matter?"  asked Florentyna.  "The midterms?  You haven't
flunked them?"

"No, it's much worse than that."

"What could be worse than that?"

"I'm pregilant."

"What?"  said Florentyna, kneeling down and putting an arm around
her.

"How can you be so sure?"

"This is the second month I've missed my period."

"Well, thit's not conclusive, and if the worse comes to the worst, we
know Roger wants to marry you,"

"He may not be the father."

"Oh, my God," said Florentyna.  "Who is?"

"I think it must have been Bob.  The football player from Princeton.
You met him, remember?"

Florentyna didn't.  There had been quite a few during the year, and she
wasn't sure what to do next when Wendy couldn't even be certain of the
father's name.  All three girls sat up late into the night with Bella
displaying a gentleness and understanding Florentyna would never have
thought possible.  It was decided that if Wendy missed her next period
she would have to make an appointment to see the university
gynecologist, Dr.

MacLeod.

Wendy did miss her next period, and asked Bella and Florentyna to
a(company her when she went to Dr.  MacLeod's office on Brattle
Street.

The doctor informed Wendy's class dean of her pregnancy that night and
no one was surprised by her decision.  Wendy's father arrived the next
day and thanked them both for all they had done before taking his
daughter back to Nashville.  It all happened so suddenly that neither
(5f the two other girls could believe they wouldn't see Wendy again.
Florentyna felt helpless and wondered if she could have done more.

At the end of her sophomore year, Florentyna began to believe she could
win a coveted Phi Beta Kappa Key.  She was fast losing her interest in
university politics; a combination of McCarthy and Nixon was not
inspiring, and she became even more disillusioned by an incident that
occurred at the end of the summer vacation.

Florentvna had returned to work for her father in New York, She had
learned a lot since the "Jessie Kovats" incident.  In fact, Abel was
now happy to leave her in charge of various Baron shops when their
managers were on vacation.

During one lunch break she tried to avoid a smartly dressed middle-aged
man who was passing through the hotel lobby at the same time, but he
spotted her, and shouted:

"Hi, Florentyna."

"Hello, Henry," she said with little enthusiasm.

He learned forward and gripped her on both arms befoile kissing her on
the check.

"It's your lucky day, my dear," he said.

"Why?"  asked Florentyna, genuinely puzzled.

"I have been stood up by my date tonight and I'm going to give you the
chance to take her place."

"Get lost," is what she would have said if Henry Osborne had not been a
director of the Baron Group, and she was about to make some suitable
excuse when he added, "I've got tickets for Can-Can.  "

Since her arrival in New York, Florentyna had been trying to get seats
for Broadway's latest smash hit and had been told they were sold out
for eight weeks, by which time she would have returned to Radcliffe.
She hesitated for a moment and then said.  " lFhank you, Henry."

They agreed to meet at Sardi's, where they had a drink before walking
over to the Shubert Theater.  The show lived up to Florentyna's
expectations and she decided it would have been churlish of her not to
accept Henry's invitation to supper afterward.  He took her to the
Rainbow

Room and it was there that the trouble started.  He had three double
scotches before the first course arrived and although he was not the
first person to put a hand on her knee he was the first of her father's
friends to do so.  By the time they came to the end of the meal Henry
had drunk so much he was barely coherent.

In the cab on the way back to the Baron, he stubbed out his cigarette
and tried to kiss her.  She squeezed herself into the corner of the
cab, but it didn't deter him.  She had no idea how to handle a drunk
and didn't know until then how persistent they could be, When they
reached the

Baron, he insisted on accompanying Florentyna to her room, and she felt
unable to refuse his o-~ertures, karing that any public row would
reflect badly on her father.  Once they were in the private elevator he
tried to kiss her again, and when they reached her small apartment on
the forty-second floor Henry forced his way inside as she opened the
door.  He immediately went over to the small bar and poured himself'
another large scotch.

Florentyna regretted that her father was in France and that George
would have left the hotel to go home long ago.  She wasn't quite sure
what to do next.

"Don't you think you should leave now, Henry?"

"What?"  slurred Henry.  "Before the fun has begun?"  He lurched tow
aid her.

"A girl ought to show how grateful she is when a fellow has taken her
to the best show in town and given her a first-class meal."

"I am grateful, Henry, but I am also tired and I would like to go to
bed.  "

"Exactly what I had in mind."

Florentyna felt quite sick as he almost fell on her and ran his hands
down her back, stopping only when he reached her buttocks.

"Henry, you had better leave before you do something you'll regret,"

Florentyna said, feeling she sounded a little absurd.

"I'm not gonna regret anything," he said as he tried to force down the
zipper on the back of her dress.  "And neither will you.  "

Florentyna tried to push him away, but he was far too strong for her,
so she began hitting him on the side of the arms.

"Don't put up too much of a fight, my dear," he panted.  "I know you
really want it, and I'll show you a thing or two those college boys
won't know about."

Florentyna's knees gave way and she collapsed onto the carpet with
Henry on top of her, knocking the phone from a table onto the floor.

"That's better," he said, "although I like a bit of spirit."

He grabbed at her again, pinioning her arms above her head with one
hand.

He started moving his other hand up her thigh.  With all the force she
could muster she freed an arm and slapped Henry across the face, but he
only grabbed her hair tightly and pushed her dress up above her waist.
There was a rip, and Henry laughed drunkenly.

"It would have been easier .. . if you had taken the damned thing off .
in the first place," he said in breathless grunts as he extended the
tear.

Florentyna stared helplessly backward and saw a heavy crys- 112THE

PRODIGAL DAUGHTER

tal vase holding some roses next to where the phone had stood.  With
her free arm she pulled Henry toward her and started kissing him
passionately on the face and neck.

"That's more like it," he said, releasing her other arm.

Slowly she reached backward for the vase.  When she had it firmly in
her hand, she broke away and brought the vase crashing down on the back
of his skull.  His head slumped forward and it took all her strength to
push him off her.  Florentyna's first reaction when she saw the blood
pouring from his scalp was to fear that she had killed him.  There was
a loud knock on the door.

Startled, Florentyna tried to stand up, but she felt too weak in the
knees.

The knock came again, even louder, but this time accompanied by a voice
that could belong to only one person.  Florentyna itaggered to the door
and opened it to find Bella taking up the whole space between the
jambs.

"You look awful."

"I feel awful."  Florentyna stared down at her tattered Balenciaga
evening dress.

"Who did that to you?"

Flornentyna took a pace backward and pointed to the motionless body of'
Henry

Osborne.

"Now I see why your phone was off the homok," said Bella as she strode
over to the prostrate body.  "Got rather less than he deserved, I
see."

"Is he still alive?"  asked Florentyna weakly.

Bella knelt over him and checked his pulse.  "Unfortunately, yes.  It's
only a flesh wound.  He wouldn't have lived if I'd hit him.  Now all
he'll have to show for his trouble is a large bump on his head in the
mo ming which is not enough for a jerk like that.  I think I'll throw
him out the window," she added, picking Henry up and chucking him over
her shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

"No, Bella.  We're on the forty-second floor."

"He won't notice the first forty-one," said Bella, and started walking
toward the window.

"No, no," said Florentyna.

Bella grinned before turning back.  "I'll be generous this time and put
him in the freight elevator.  The management can deal with him as they
see fit."

Morentyna did not argue as Bella strode past her with Henry still over
her shoulder.  She returned a few moments later looking as if she had
saved a penalty against Vassar.

"I've sent him to the basement," she said with glee.

Florentyna was sitting on the floor sipping a Remy Martin.

"Bella, am I ever going to be wooed romantically?"

"I'm the wrong person to ask, No one has ever tried to rape me, let
alone 1-~e romantic."

Florentyna fell into her arms laughing.  "Thank God you came when you
did.

Why are you here, not that I'm complaining?"

"Little Miss Efficiency has forgotten that I'm being put up in the
hotel tonight because I'm playing hockey in New York tomorrow.  The
Devils against the Angels."

"But they're both men's teams."

"That's what they think, and don't interrupt.  When I arrived at the
desk they had no reservation in my name and the receptionist told me
the hotel was packed, so I thought I would come up and complain to the
management.

Give me a pillow and I'll be happy to sleep in the bathtub."

Florentyna held her head in her hands.

"Why are you crying?"

"I'm not, I'm laughing.  Bella, you deserve a king-size bed and you
shall have one."  Florentyna put the phone back on the hook and then
picked up the receiver.

"Yes, Miss Rosnovski?"

"Is the Presidential Suite free tonight?"

"Yes, miss."

"Please register it in the name of Miss Bella Hellaman and charge it to
me.  She'll be down to confirm in a minute."

"Certainly, miss.  How will I recognize Miss Heliaman?"

The next morning Henry Osborne called and begged Florentyna not to tell
her father what had taken place the night before, pleading with her
that it wouldn't have happened if he had not drunk so much and adding
plaintively that he could not afford to lose his place on the board.

Florentyna stared down at the bloodstain on the carpet and reluctantly
agreed.

WHEN ARFL RETURNED FROM PARIs he was appalled to learn that one of his
directors had been found drunk in a freight elevator and had needed
seventeen stitches in his scalp.

"No doubt Henry is claiming he tripped over a dumbwaiter," said Abel
before he unlocked a drawer in his desk, took out an unmarked file and
added another note to it.

"More likely a dumb blonde," laughed George.

Abel nodded.

"Are YOU going to do anything about Henry?"  George asked.

"Not at the moment.  He's still useful as long as he has contacts in

Washington.  In any case, I'm up to my eyes with buildings in London
and

Paris, and now I see the board wants me to look at possibilities in

Amsterdam, Geneva, Cannes and Edinburgh.  And now Zaphia is threatening
to take me to court if I don't increase her alimony."

"Perhaps the easy way out would be to pension Henry off ?"  suggested

George.

"Not quite yet," replied Abel.  "There is still one thing I need him
for."

George couldn't think of anything.

"We'll kill 'em," said Bella.  Bella's decision to challenge Harvard's
ice hockey team to a field hockey match came as no surprise to anyone
except the Harvard team, which politely declined the invitation without
comment.

Bella immediately took out a half-page advertisement in the Harvard
Crimson which rea

HARVARDJOCKSFLUNK

RADCLIFFE CHALLENGE

The enterprising editor of the Crimson, who had seen the advertisement
before it went to press, decided to interview Bella, so she landed on
the front page as well.  The photograph of Bella wearing her mask and
pads, and brandishing a hockey stick, ran with the caption: "She's more
frightening when she takes the mask off."  Bella was delighted with the
picture and with the caption.

Within a week Harvard had offered to send its third-string team to

Radcliffe.  Bella refused, demanding varsity players only.  A
compromise was reached, with Harvard making up a team Of f(_)Ur varsity
players, four junior varsity players and three third-string players.  A
date was chosen and the necessary preparation~ were made.  The
undergraduates at

Radcliffe began to get quite chauvinistic about the challenge, and
Bella became a cult figure, on campus.

"More figure than cult," she told Florentyna.

Bella's tactics for trying to win the match were later described by
the

Harvard Crimson as nothing short of diabolical.  When the Harvard team
arrived in their bus they were met by eleven amazons with hockey sticks
slung over their shoulders.  The fit young men were immediately whisked
off for lunch.  Members of the Harvard squad never normally drank a
drop before a match, but as the girls, without exception, ordered
beers, they felt honor-bound to join- them.  Most of the men managed
three cans before lunch and also enjoyed the excellent wine served
throughout the meal.

None of the Harvard men thought to comment on Radcliffe's generosity or
to ask if they were breaking any college rules.  All twenty-two ended
the lunch with a glass of champagne to toast the fortunes of both
colleges.

The eleven Harvard men were then escorted to their locker room, where
they found another magn urn of champagne awaiting them.  The eleven
happy ladies left them to change.  When the Harvard captain led his
team out onto the hockey field he was met by a crowd of over five
hundred spectators and eleven strapping girls whom he had never before
seen in his life.  Eleven other ladies, not unknown to the captain,
were finding it hard to remain awake in the stands.  Harvard was down
3-0 by half time and was lucky to lose only 7-0.  The Harvard Crimson
might well have described Bella as a cheat, but the

Boston Globe declared her to be a woman of great enterprise.  The
captain of the

Harvard team immediately challenged Bella to replay against the full
varsity squad.  "Exactly what I wanted in the first place," she told
Florentyna.

Bella accepted by sending a telegram from one side of Cambridge Common
to the other.  It read: "Your place or mine?"  Radcliffe had to arrange
for several cars to transport their supporters, their ranks swelled by
Harvard's decision to put on a dance that evening after the game.
Florentyna drove

Bella and three other members of the team across the river in her newly
acquired 1952 Oldsmobile, with hockey sticks, shin pads and evening
dresses piled high in the trunk.  When they arrived, they did not meet
up with any of tire Harvard team before they reached the playing field.
This thuc they were greeted by a crowd of three thousand, which
included President Conant of

Harvard and President Jordan of Radcliffe.

Bella's tactics again bordered on the dubious: each of her girls had
clearly been instructed to play the man and not to concentrate too much
on the ball, Ruthless hacking at vulnerable shins enabled them to hold
Harvard to a scoreless first half.

The Radcliffe team nearly scored in the first minute of the second
half, which inspired them to rise above their normal game, and it began
to look as if the match might end in a draw when the Harvard center
forward, a man only slightly smaller than Bella, broke through and
looked poised to score.

He had reached the edge of the circle when Bella came charging out of
her cage and hit him flat out with a shoulder charge.  That was the
last He remembered of the match and he departed a few seconds later on
a stretcher.

Both referees blew their whistles at once and a penalty was awarded
to

Harvard with only a minute to go.  Their left wing was selected to take
the shot.  The five-foot-nine, slimly built man waited for the two
teams to line up.  He cracked the ball sharply to the right inner, who
lofted a shot straight at Bella's chest pad.  It dropped at her feet,
and she clicked it to the right, where it rolled in front of the
diminutive left wing.  Bella charged at the slight figure, and gentle
people in the crowd covered their eyes, but this time she had met her
match.  The left wing sidestepped deftly, leaving the Radcliffe captain
spread-eagled on the ground and himself ample time to flick the ball
into the back of the net.  The whistle blew and Radcliffe lost 1 -0.

It was the only occasion on which Florentyna had seen Bella cry, even
though the crowd gave her a standing ovation as she led her team off
the field.  Although defeated, Bella ended up with two compensations:
the U.S. Women's.  Hockey Team selected her to play for her country,
and she had met her future husband.

Florentyna was introduced to Claude Lamont at the reception after the
match.  He looked even smaller in his neat blue blazer and gray flannel
trousers than he had on the field.

"Little sweetheart, isn't he?"  said Bella, patting him on the head.

"Amazing goal."  Florentyna was surprised that Claude did not seem to
object.  All he said was "Didn't she play a firstclass game?"

Bella and Florentyna returned to their rooms at Radcliffe.  where they
changed for the dance.  Claude accompanied both girls to the affair,
which

Bella compared to a cattle show as the men swarmed around her old
roommate.

They all wanted to dance the jitterbug with her, so Claude was
dispatched to fetch enough food and drink to feed an army, which Bella
disposed of while she watched her friend in a whirl of Trig~re silk on
the dance floor.

She first saw him sitting talking to a girl in the corner of the room
while she was dancing.  He must have been about six feet tall, with
wavy fair hair and a tan that only proved he did not spend his winter
vacations in

Cambridge.  As she stared, he turned toward the dance floor and their
eyes met.  Florentyna turned quickly away and tried to concentrate on
what her partner was saying-something about America moving into the
computer age and how he was going to climb on the bandwagon.  When the
dance ended, the talkative partner took her back to Bella.  Florentyna
turned to find him by her side.

"Have you had something to eat?"  he asked.

"No," she lied.

"Would you like to join my table?"

"Thank you," she said, and left Bella and Claude discussing the
relative merits of the value of wing-to-wing passing, comparing field
hockey with ice hockey.

For the first few minutes neither of them spoke.  He brought some food
over from the buffet and then they both tried to speak at once.  His
name was

Scott Roberts and he was majoring in history at Harvard.  Florentyna
had read about him in Boston's society columns, one of the heirs to the
Roberts family business and one of the most sought-after young men in
America.  She was lied it were, otherwise.  What's in a name?  she said
to herself as she told him hers.  It didn't seem to register.

"A pretty name for a beautiful woman," he said.  "I'm sorry we haven't
met before."  Florentyna smiled.  He added, "Actually, I was at

Radcliffe a few weeks ago, playing in the infamous hockey game when we
lost seven -nothing."

"You played in that match?  I didn't notice you."

"I'm not iurprised.  I spent most of the time on the ground feeling
sick.  I had never drunk so much in my life.  Bella Hellaman ni,iv look
big to you when you're sober, but she looks like a ~iherman tank when
you're drunk."

Florentyna laughed and sat happily listening to Scott tell stories of

Harvard, his family and his life in Boston.  For the rest of the
evening she danced only with one man and when the night came to an end
he accompanied her back to Radcliffe.

"Can I see you tomorrow?"  Scott asked.

"Yes, of course."

"Why don't we drive out to the country and have lunch together?"

"I'd like that."

Florentyna and Bella spent most of that night telling each other about
their respective partners.

"Do you think it matters that he's straight out of the Social
Register?"

"Not if he's a man worth taking seriously," replied Bella, aware of
just how real Florentyna's fears were.  "I have no idea if Claude is in
any social register," she added.

The next morning, Scott Roberts and Florentyna drove out into the
couniryside in his smart new MG.  She had never been happier in her
life.

They lunched in a little restaurant in Dedham which was hill of people
whom

Scott seemed to know.  Florentyna was introduced to a Lowell, a
Winthrop, a

Cabot and another Roberts.  She was relieved to see Edward Winchester
coming toward her from a corner table, leading an attractive
dark-haired girl by the haDd-at least, Florentyna thought, I know
someone.  She was astonished at how handsome and happy Edward looked
and soon found out why, when he introduced his frianc6e, Danielle.

"You two ought to get on famously," said Edward.

"Why?"  asked Florentyna, smiling at the girl.

"Danielle is French and I've been telling her for a long time that I
might have been the Dauphin but even when I declared you were a witch,
You had to teach me how to pronounce sorci~re.  "

As Florentyna watched them depart hand in hand, Scott said quietly, "Ve
n'ai jamais pens~ queje tomberais amoureux dune sorci&e.  "

Florentyna chose a simple meal of Dover sole and nodded her approval of
his selection of Muscadet, grateful for her knowledge of food and wine,
and was surprised to find at four o'clock that they were the only two
left in the restaurant, with a headwaiter hinting that the time might
have come to prepare for the evening meal.  When they returned to
Radcliffe, Scott kissed her gently on the cheek and said he would call
her tomorrow.

He phoned during lunchtime the next day to ask if she could bear to
watch him play ice hockey for the junior varsity against Penn on
Saturday and suggested dinner together afterward.

I Florentyna accepted, masking her delight.  for she couldn't wait to
see him again.  It seemed the longest week in her life.

On Saturday morning she made one important decision about her weekend
with

Scott.  She packed a small suitcase and put it in the trunk of her car
before driving to the rink long before the face-off.  She sat in the
bleachers, waiting for Scott to arrive, For a moment she feared he
might not feel the same way about her when they met for a third time,
but he dispelled that fear in a moment when he waved and skated across
the ice toward her.

"Bella said I can't come home if you lose."

"Perhaps I don't want you to," he said, as he glided slantingly away.

She watched the game, becoming colder and colder.  Scott hardly seemed
to touch the puck all afternoon, but he still managed to get slammed
repeatedly into the boards.  She decided that it was a stupid sport but
that she would not tell him so.  After the match was over, she sat in
her car waiting for him to change; then another reception and at last
they were on their own.  He took her to Locke-Ober's, where again he
seemed to know everyone, but this time she did not recognize anybody
other than those she had seen in the fashionable magazines.  He didn't
notice, as he could not have been more attentive, which helped
Florentyna relax.  Once more, they were the last to leave, and he drove
her back to her car.  He kissed her gently on the lips.

"Would you like to come to lunch at Radcliffe tomorrow?"

"I can't," he said.  "I have a paper to finish in the morning, and I'm
not sure I can complete it before two o'clock.  You couldn't bear
joining me for tea?"

"Of course I will, ~illy."

"What it pity.  If I had known I would have booked you a room in the
guest quarters.  '.

"What a pity," echoed Florentyna, thinking of the unopened suitcase
lying in the trunk of her car.

The next day, Scott picked her up shortly after three and took her back
to his rooms for tea.  She smiled as he closed the door, remembering
that it was still not allowed at Radcliffe.  His room was considerably
larger than hers and on his desk was a picture of an aristocratic,
slightly severe-looking lady who could only have been his mother.  As
Florentyna took in the room she realized that none of the furniture
belonged to Harvard.

Alter he had given her tea they listened to America's new singiny,
idol,

Elvis Presley, before Scott put on Frank Sinatra singing "Stranger in

Paradise" and they danced, each wondering what was in the other's
mind.

When they sat down on the sofa, he kissed her at first gently, then
with passion.  He seemed reluctant to go any further and Florentyna was
both too shy and too ignorant to help him.  Suddenly he placed a hand
over her breast as if waiting for Florentyna's reaction.  At last his
hand moved to the top of her dress and fumbled with the first button,
Florentyna made no attempt to stop him as he continued \& ith the
second.  Soon he was kissing her, first on the shoulder-, then on her
breast.  Florentyna wanted him so badly that she almost made the next
move herself, but quite suddenly, he stood up and took off his shirt.
In response she quickly slipped out of her dress and let her shoes fall
to the floor.  they made their way to the bed, clumsily trying to
remove what was left of each other's clothing.  For a moment they
stared at each other before climbing onto the bed.  To her surprise the
pleasure of making love seemed to be over in seconds.

"I'm sorry, I was awful," said Florentyna.

"No, no, it was me."  He paused.  "I might as well admit it, that was
my first time-"

"Not you as well'?"  she said, and they both burst out laughing.

They lay in each other's arms for the rest of the evening and made love
twice more, each time with greater pleasure and confidence.  When
Florentyna woke in the mo ming cramped and rather tried but exultantly
happy, she felt instinctively they would spend the rest of their lives
together.  For the remainder of that term they saw each other every
weekend, and sometimes during the

Aeek as well.

In the spring vacation, they met secretly in New York, and Florentyna
spent the happiest three days she could remember.  Ott the Waterj~ont,
Limelight and, on Broadway, South Pacific preceded the "21" Club,
Sardi's and even the Oak Room at the Plaza.  During the day they
shopped, visited the Frick and walked through the park.  When she
returned home at night, her arms were laden with presents, which ended
up by the side of her bed.

The spring term was idyllic and they were rarely out of each other's
company.  As it drew to a close, Scott invited Florentyna to spend a
week in

Marblehead to meet his parents.

"I know they'll love you," he said as he put her on the train to
Chicago.

A hope so," she replied.

Florentyna spent hours telling her mother how wonderful Scott was and
how much she was bound to love him.  Zaphia was delighted to see her
daughter so happy and genuinely looked forward to meeting Scott's
parents.  She prayed

Florentyna had found someone with whom she could spend the rest of her
life, and had not made an impulsive decision that she would later
regret.

Florentyna selected yards of different-colored silks from Marshall
Field's and passed the evenings designing a dress she felt certain
would capture the heart of Scott's mother.

The letter came on a Monday, and Florentyna immediately recognized
Scott's handwriting.  She tore the envelope open in happy anticipation,
but it contained only a short note saying that because of a change in
his family plans he would have to postpone her trip to Marblehead.
Florentyna read the letter again and again, looking for some hidden
message.  Remembering only how happily they had parted, she decided to
call his home.

"The Roberts residence," said a voice that sounded like the butler's.

"May I speak to Mr.  Scott Roberts?"  Florentyna could hear her voice
quiver as she said his name.

"Who is calling him, ma'am?"

"Florentyna Rosnovski."

"I'll see if he's in, ma'am."

Flornentyna clutched on to the phone and waited impatiently for Scott's
reassuring voice.

"He's Hot at home at the moment, ma'am, but I will leave a message
saying that you called."

Florentyna didn't believe him and an hour later called again.

The voice said, "He is still not back, ma'am," so she waited until
eight that evening, when the same voice announced that he was at
dinner.

"Then please tell him I'm calling."

"Yes, ma'am."

The voice returned a few moments later and said perceptibly less
politely,

"He cannot he disturbed."

"I don'~ believe it.  I don't believe you've told him who it is.  " , ,
Madam, I can assure you-" Another voice came on the line, a lady's,
with the ring of habitual authority.

"Who is this calling?"

"My name is Florentyna Rosnovski.  I was hoping to speak to Scott
as---"

"Miss Ros-en-ovski, Scott is having dinner with his fiancee at the
moment and cannot be disturbed."

"His fiancde?"  whispered Florentyna, her nails drawing blood from the
palm of her hand.

"Yes, Miss Ros-en-ovski."  The phone went dead.  It took several
seconds for the news to sink in; then Florentyna said out loud, "Oh. my
God, I think

I'll die," and fainted.

She woke to find her mother by the side of her bed.

"Why?"  was Florentyna's first word.

"Because he wasn't good enough for you.  The right man won't allow his
mother to select the person he wants to spend the rest of his life
with."

When F,orentyna returned to Cambridge, matters did not improve.  She
was unable to concentrate on any serious work and often spent hours on
her bed in tears.  Nothing Bella could do or say seemed to help and she
could devise no better tactic than belittlement.  "Not the sort of man
I would want on my team."  Other men asked Florentyna for dates, but
she didn't accept any of them.  Her father and mother became so worried
about her that they even discussed the problem with each other.

Finally, Florentyna came close to failing a course, and her advisor,
Miss

Rose, warned her that she had a lot of work to do if she still hoped to
win her Phi Beta Kappa key.  Florentyna remained indifferent.  At the
beginning of the summer vacation she stayed at home in Chicago
accepting no invitations to parties or dinners.  She helped her mother
choose some new clothes but bought it one for herself.  She read the
details of the "society wedding of the year," as the Boston Globe
referred to the marriage of Scott Roberts to Cynthia Knowles, but it
only made her cry again.  The arrival of a wedding invitation from
Edward Winchester did not help.  Later, she tried to remove

Scott from her thoughts by going to New York and working unheard-of
hours for her father at the New York Baron.  As the vacation drew to a
close she dreaded returning to Radcliffe for her final year. No amount
of advice from her father or sympathy from her mother seemed to improve
matters.  They both began to despair when she showed no interest in the
preparations for her twenty-first birthday.

It was a few days before Flornentyna was due to return to Radcliffe that
she saw Edward across Lake Shore Drive.  He looked as unhappy as she
felt.

Florentyna waved and smiled.  He waved back but didn't smile.  They
stood and stared at each other until Fdward crossed the road.

"How's Danielle?"  she asked.

He stared at her.  "Haven't you heard?"

"Heard what?"  said Florentyna.

He continued to stare at her as if he couldn't get out the words.
"She's dead."

Florentyna gazed back at him in disbelief.

"She was driving too fast, showing off in my new AustinHealey, and she
turned the car over.  I lived, she died."

"Oh, my God," Florentyna said, putting her arms around him.  "How
selfish

I've been."

"No, I knew you had your own troubles," said Edward.

"Nothing compared with yours.  Are you going back to Harvard?"

"I have to.  Danielle's father insisted that I complete my studies.
Said he would never forgive me if I didn't.  So now I have something to
work for.

Don't cry, Florentyna, because once I start I can't stop."

Florentyna shuddered.  "Oh, my God, how selfish I've been," she
repeated.

"Come over to Harvard sometime.  We'll play tennis and you can help me
with my French verbs.  It will be like old times."

"Will it"" she said.  wistfully.  "I wonder."

WHEN FLORENTYNA RETURNED TO RADCLIFFE, she was greeted by a
two-hundred-page course catalogue that took her three evenings to
digest.

From the catalogue she could choose one elective course outside her
major area of study.  Miss Rose suggested she take up something new,
something she might never have another chance to study in depth.

Florentyna had heard, as every other member of the university had,
that

Professor Luigi Ferpozzi would be spending a year as guest lecturer
at

Harvard and conducting a seminar once a week.  Since winning his Nobel
Peace

Prize he had roamed the world receiving accolades, and when he was
awarded an honorary degree from Oxford the citation described him as
the only man whom the Pope and the President were in total agreement
with, other than

God.  The world's leading authority on Italian architecture had
chosen

Baroque Rome for his overall subject.  "City of the Eye and the Mind"
was to be the title of his first lecture.  The synopsis in the course
catalogue was tempting: Gian Lorenzo Bernini, the artist aristocrat,
and Francesco

Borromini, the stonecutter's son, transformed the Eternal City of the

Caesars and the Popes into the most recognizable capital in the
world.

Prerequisites: knowledge of Latin and Italian, with German and French
highly recommended, Limited to thirty students.

Miss Rose was not optimistic about Florentyna's chances of being among
the chosen few.  "They tell me there is already a line from the Widener
Library to Boston Common just to see him, not to mention the fact that
he is a well-known misogynist."

"So was Julius Caesar."

"When I was in the common room last night he didn't treat me like

Cleopatra," said Miss Rose.  "But I do admire the fact that he flew
with Bomber Command during the Second World War.  He was personally
responsible for saving half the churches in Italy by seeing that the
planes made detours around important buildings.  "

"Well, I want to be one of his chosen disciples," said Florentyna.

"Do you?"  said Miss Rose dryly.  "Well, if you fail," she added,
laughing as she scribbled a note for Professor Ferpozzi, 11 you can
always sign up for one of those survey courses.  They seem to have no
limit on numbers."

"Rocks for Jocks," said Florentyna dispdragingly.  "Not me.  I'm off to
ensnare Professor Ferpozzi."

The next morning at eight-thirty, a full hour before the professor was
officially available to see anyone that day, Florentyna climbtA the
marble steps of the Widener Library.  Once in the build in,9 she took
the elevator-large enough to hold herself and one book-to the top
floor, where the senior professors had offices under the eaves.  An
earlier generation had obviously decided that being far removed from
zealous students more than made up for the long climb or the
inconvenience of an always occupied elevator.

Once Florentyna had reached the top of the building she found herself
standing in front of a frosted door.  The name "Professor Ferpozzi" was
newly stenciled in black paint on the glass.  She recalled that in 1945
it was this man who had sat with President Conant in Munich and between
them they had decided the fate of German architecture: what should be
preserved and what should be razed.  She was only too aware that she
shouldn't bother him for at least another hour.  She half turned,
intent on retreat, but the elevator had already disappeared to a lower
floor.

Turning again, she knocked boldly on the door.  Then she heard the
crash.

"Whoever that is, go away.  You have caused me to break my favorite
teapot."  said an angry voice whose mother tongue could only have
been

Italian.

Flornentyna stifled the impulse to run and instead slowly turned the door
knob.  She put her head around the door and looked into a room that
must have had walls, but there was no way of knowing because books and
periodicals were stacked from floor to ceiling as if they had taken the
place of bricks and mortar.

In the middle of the clutter stood a professorial figure aged anywhere
between forty and seventy.  The tall man-wore an old

Harris tweed jacket and gray flannel trousers that looked as though
they had come from a thrift shop or had been inherited from his
grandfather.

He was holding a brown handle that moments before had been attached to
a teapot.  At his feet lay a tea bag surrounded by fragments of brown
china.

I have been in possession of that teapot for over thirty years.  I
loved it second only to the Pietd, young woman.  How do you intend to
replace it?"

"As Michelangelo is not available to sculpt you another, I will have to
go to Woolworth's and buy one."

The professor smiled despite himself.  "What do you want?"  he asked,
picking up the tea bag but leaving the remains of his teapot on the
floor.

"To enroll in your course," Florentyna replied.

"I do not care for women at the best of times," he said, not facing
her, "and certainly not for one who causes me to break my teapot before
breakfast.  Do you possess a name?"

"Rosnovski."

He turned and stared at her for a moment before sitting at his desk and
dropping the tea bag into an ashtray.  He scribbled briefly.
"Rosnovksi, you have the thirtieth place."

"But you don't know my grades or qualifications."

I am quite aware of your qualifications," he said ominously.  "For next
week's group discussion you will prepare a paper on'~he hesitated for a
moment-"on one of Borromini's earlier works, San Carlo alle Quattro

Fontane.  Good day," he added as Florentyna scribbled furiously on her
legal pad.  Without giving her another thought, he returned to the
remains of his teapot.

Florentyna left, closing the door quietly behind her.  She walked
slowly down the marble steps trying to compose her thoughts.  Why had
he accepted her so quickly?  How could he have known anything about
her?

During the following week she spent long days in the crypts of the
Fogg

Museum poring over learned journals, making slides of the reproductions
of Borromini's plans for San Carlo, even checking his lengthy expense
list to see how much the remarkable building had cost.  She also found
time to visit the china department of Shreve, Crump & Lowe.

When Florentyna had completed the paper, she rehearsed it the night
before and felt confident about the outcome, a confidence that
evaporated the moment she arrived at Professor Ferpozzi's seminar.  The
room was already packed with expectant students and she was horrified
to discover that she was the only non graduate student, the only
non-Fine Arts major and the only woman in the course.  A projector was
placed on his desk facing a large white screen.

"Ah, the home wrecker returns," the professor said, as Florentyna took
the one remaining seat in the front.  "For those of you who have not
come across

Miss Rosnovski before, do not invite her home for tea."  He smiled at
his own remark and tapped his pipe into an ashtray on the corner of the
desk, a sign that he wished the class to commence.

"Miss Rosnovski," he said with confidence, "is going to give us a talk
on

Bon-omini's Oratorio di San Filippo Neri."  Florentyna's heart sank.
"No, no."  He smiled a second time.  "I am mistaken.  It was, if I
remember correctly, the Church of San Carlo."

For twenty minutes Florentyna delivered her paper, showing slides and
answering questions.  Ferpozzi hardly stirred from behind his pipe,
other than to correct her occasional mispronunciation of
seventeenth-century

Roman coins.

When Florentyna finally sat down, he nodded thoughtfully and declared,
"A fine presentation of the work of a genius."  She relaxed for the
first time that day as Ferpozzi rose briskly to his feet.  "Now it is
my painful duty to show you the contrast and I want everyone to make
notes in preparation for a full discussion next week."  He shuffled
over to the projector and flicked his first slide into place.  A
building appeared up on the screen behind the professor's desk.
Florentyna stared in dismay at a ten-yeaj-old nicture of the Chicago
Baron towering above a cluster of' elega."t small7 scale apartment
buildings on Michigan Avenue.  There was an eerie silence in the room
and one or two stud crits were staring at her to see how she reacted.

"Barbaric, isn't it?"  Ferpozzi's smile returned.  "I am not referring
only to the building, which is a worthless piece of plutocratic
self-congratulation, but to the overall effect that this edifice has on
the city around it.  Note the way the tower breaks the eye's sense of
symmetry and balance in order to make certain that it's the only
building we shall look at."  He flicked a second slide up onto the
screen.  This time it revealed the San Francisco Baron.  "A slight
improvement," he declared, staring into the darkness at his attentive
audience, "but only because since the earthquake of 1906 the city
ordinances in San Francisco do not allow buildings to be more than
twenty stories in height.  Now let's travel abroad," he continued,
turning to face the screen again.  Up on the screen came the Cairo
Baron, its gleaming windows reflecting the chaos and poverty of the
slums huddled on top of each other in the distance.

"Who catV blame the natives for backing the occasional revolution when
such a monument to Mammon is placed in their midst while they try to
survive in mud hovels that don't even stretch to electricity?"

Inexorably, the professor produced slides of the Barons in London,

Johannesburg and Paris, before saying, "I want your critical opinion on
all of these monstrosities by next week.  Do they have any
architectural value, can they be justified on financial grounds and
will they ever be seen by your grandchildren'?  If so, why'?  Good
day."

Everyone filed out of the professor's room except Florentyna, who
unwrapped the brown paper parcel by her side.

"I have brought you a farewell present," she said, and stood up holding
out an earthenware teapot.  Just at the moment Ferpozzi opened his
hands, she let go and the teapot fell to the ground at his feet and
shattered into several pieces.

He stared at the fragments on the floor.  A deserved no less," he said,
and smiled at her.

"That," she rejoined, determined to say her piece, "was unworthy of a
man of your reputation."

"Absolutely right," he said, "but I had to discover if you had
backbone.

So many women don't, you know."

"Do you imagine your position allows you-"

He waved a dismissive hand.  "Next week I shall read your defense of
your father's empire with interest, young woman, and I shall be only
too happy to be found wanting."

"Did you imagine I would be' returning  she said.

"Oh yes, Miss Rosnovski.  If you are half the woman my colleagues claim
you are, I shall have a battle on my hands next week."

Florentyna left, just stopping herself from slamming the door behind
her.

For seven days she talked with professors of architecture, Boston city
planners and international conservationists.  She telephoned her
father, mother and George Novak before coming to the reluctant
conclusion that, although they all had different excuses, Professor
Ferpozzi had not exaggerated.  She returned to the top of the tower a
week later and sat at the back of the room, dreading what her fellow
students would have come up with.

Professor Ferpozzi stared at her as she sank into her seat.  He then
tapped his pipe into an ashtray and addressed the class.

"You will leave your essays on the corner of my desk at the end of this
session, but today I want to discuss the influence of Borromini's work
on

European churches during the century after his death."  Ferpozzi then
delivered a lecture of such color and authority that his thirty
students hung on every word.  When he had finished, he selected a
sandy-haired young man in the front row to prepare next week's paper on
Borromini's first meeting with Bemini.

Once again, Florentyna remained seated while all the other students
filed out, leaving their essays on the corner of Ferpozzi's desk.  When
they were alone, she handed the professor a brown paper parcel.  He
unwrapped it to find a Royal Worcester Viceroy teapot in bone china
dated 1912.

"Magnificent," he said.  "And it will remain so as long as no one drops
it."

They both laughed.  "Thank you, young lady."

"Thank you," Florentyna replied, "for not putting me through any
further humiliation."

"Your admirable restraint, unusual in a woman, made it clear that it
was unnecessary.  I hope you will forgive me, but it would have been
equally reprehensible not to try to influence someone who will one day
control the largest hotel empire in the world  Such a thought had never
crossed

Florentyna's mind until that moment.  "Please assure your father that I
always stay in a Baron whenever I have to travel.  The rooms, the food
and the service are quite the most acceptable of any of the major
hotels, and there is never anything to complain about once you are
inside the hotel looking out.  Be sure you learn as much about the
stonecutter's son as I know about the empire builder from Slonim. Being
an immigrant is something your father and I will always be proud to
have in common.  Good day, young lady."

Florentyna left the office below the eaves of Widener sadly, aware of
how little she knew of the workings of her father's empire.

During that year she concentrated zealously on her modern language
studies, but she could always be found on Tuesday afternoons sitting
with a pile of books, absorbing Professor Ferpozzi's lectures.  It was
President Conant who remarked at the senior dinner that it was sad that
his learned colleague was having the kind of friendship with Florentyna
that the professor really should have had thirty years before.

Graduation day at Radcliffe was a colorful affair.  Proud, smartly
dressed parents mingled with professors swathed in the scarlet, purple
and multicolored hoods appropriate to their degrees.  The academics
glided about, resembling a convocation of bishops, informing the
visitors how well their offspring had done, sometimes with a little
considerate license.  In the case of Florentyna there was no need for
exaggeration, for she had graduated summa cum laude and had been
elected to Phi Beta Kappa earlier in the year.

It was a day of celebration and sadness for Florentyna and Bella, who
were to live on opposite sides of the country, one in New York and the
other in San Francisco.  Bella had proposed to Claude on February
28-"Couldn't wait for Leap Year," she explained-and they had been
married in the Houghton chapel at Harvard during the spring vacation.
Claude had insisted on, and Bella had agreed to, Love, Honor and Obey.
Florentyna realized how lucky they both were when Claude said to her at
the reception, "Isn't Bella beautiful?"

Florentyna smiled and turned to Bella, who was remarking that it was
sad

Wendy was not with them that day.

"Not that she ever did a day's work," added Bella, grinning.

"Florentyna could not have worked harder in her final year, and no one
will be surprised by her achievements," said Miss Rose.

"I am sure she owes a great deal to you, Miss Rose," Abel replied.

"No, no, but I was hoping to persuade Florentyna to return to Cambridge
and study for a Ph.D. and then join the faculty, but she seems to have
other ideas."

"We certainly do," said Abel.  "Florentyna will be joining the Baron
Group as a director, with special responsibilities for the leasing of
the shops in the hotels.  They have grown out of control in the last
few years and

I fear I have been neglecting them."

"You didn't tell me that was what you had in mind, Florentyna,"
boomed

Bella.  "I thought you said-"

"Shhhhh, Bella," said Florentyna, putting a finger to her lips.

"Now, what's this, young lady?  Have you been keeping a secret from
me?"

"Now's not the time or place, Papa."

"Oh, come on, don't keep us in suspense," said Edward.  "Is it the
United

Nations or General Motors who feel they cannot survive without you?"

"I must confess," said Miss Rose, "now that you have gained the highest
credentials this university can award, I should be fascinated to know
how you intend to use them."

"Hoping to be a Rockette, perhaps," said Claude.

"That's the nearest anyone has been yet," said Florentyna.

Everyone laughed except Florentyna's mother.

"Well, if you can't find a job in New York, you can always come and
work in San Francisco," said Bella.

"I'll bear the offer in mind," Florentyna said lightly.

To her relief, further discussion of her future was impossible because
the graduation ceremony was about to begin.  George Kerman, the
former

U.S. ambassador to Russia, delivered the graduation address.  His
speech was received enthusiastically.  Florentyna particularly enjoyed
the 'quotation from Bismarck which ended his peroration: "Let us leave
just a few tasks for our children to perform."

"You'll deliver that address one day," said Edward as they passed

Tricentennial Hall.

"And pray, sir.  what will be my chosen subject?"

"The problems of being the first woman President."

Florentyna laughed.  "You still believe it, don't you?"

"And so do you, even if it will always fall upon me to remind you."

Edward had been seen regularly with Florentyna during the year, and
friends hoped they might soon announce their engagement, but Edward
knew that would never be.  This was one woman who would always be
unattainable.  he thought.  They were destined to be close friends,
never lovers.

After Florentyna had packed her last few belongings and said goodbye to
her mother, she checked that she had left nothing in her room and sat
on the end of her bed reflecting on her time at Radcliffe.  All she had
left to show for it was that she had arrived with three suitcases and
was leaving with six and a Bachelor of Arts degree.  A crimson ice
hockey pennant once given to her by Scott was all that remained on the
wall.

Florentyna unpinned the pennant, held it for a moment, then dropped it
into the wastepaper basket.

She sat in the back of the car with her father as the chauffeur drove
out of the campus for the last time.

"Could you drive a little slower?"  she asked.

"Certainly, ma'am."

Florentyna turned and stared out of the rear window until the spires
of

Cambridge were no longer visible above the trees, and there was nothing
of her past to see.

THE CHAUFFEUR BROUGHT THE ROLLS-ROYCE to a halt at the traffic lights
on

Arlington Street on the west side of the Public Garden.  He waited for
the lights to turn green while Florentyna chatted with her father about
their forthcoming trip to Europe.

As the lights changed, another Rolls passed in front of them, turning
off Commonwealth Avenue.  Another graduate and parent were deep in
conversation in the back.

"I sometimes think it would have been better for you to have gone to
Yale,

Richard," she said.

Richard's mother looked at him approvingly.  He already had the fine
aristocratic looks that had attracted her to his father over twenty
years before, and now he had made it five generations of the family who
had graduated from Harvard.

"Why Yale?"  he asked gently, pulling his mother back from her
reminiscences.

"Well, it might have been healthier for you to get away from the
introverted air of Boston."

"Don't let Father hear you say that; he would consider such a
suggestion nothing less than treason."

"But do you have to return to Harvard Business School, Richard?  Surely
there must be other business schools?"

"Like Father, I want to be a banker.  If I'm going to follow in his
footsteps, Yale isn't equipped to tie Harvard's laces," he said
mockingly.

A few minutes later, the Rolls came to a halt outside a large house
on

Beacon Hill.  The front door opened and a butler stood in the
doorway.

"We have about an hour before the guests arrive," said

Richard, checking his watch.  "I'll go and change immediately.  Mother,
perhaps we could meet up a little before seven-thirty in the West
Room?"  He even sounded like his father, she thought.

Richard bounded up the stairs two at a time; in most houses he could
have managed three.  His mother followed behind at a more leisurely
pace, her hand never once touching the banister.

The butler watched them disappear before returning to the pantry. Mr.

Kane's cousin, Henry Cabot Lodge, would be joining them for dinner, so
he wanted to double-check that everything below stairs was perfect.

Richard stood in the shower smiling at the thought of his mother's
concern.

He had always wanted to graduate from Harvard and improve on his
father's achievements.  He couldn't wait to enroll at the Business
School next fall, although he had to admit he was looking forward to
taking Mary Bigelow to

Barbados that summer.  He had met Mary in the rehearsal rooms of the
Music

Society and later they were both invited to play in the university
string quartet.  The pert little lady from Radcliffe played the violin
far better than he performed on the cello.  When he eventually
serenaded the reluctant

Mary into bed he found she was again the better tuned, despite her
pretense at inexperience.  Since those days he had also discovered she
was highly strung.

Richard turned the dial to "Cold" for a brief moment before leaping
out.  He dried and changed into evening dress.  He checked himself in
the mirror: double-breasted.  Richard suspected he WOUld be the only
person that night wearing the latest fashion-not that it mattered when
you were a little over six feet, slim and dark.  Mary had once said
that he looked good in everything from jock strap to morning coat.

He went downstairs and waited in the West Room for his mother to join
him.

When she appeared the butler served them both a drink.

"Good heavens, are double-breasted suits back in fashion?"  she
inquired.

"You had better believe it.  The very latest thing, Mother."

"I can't believe it," she said.  "I remember .. ."

The butler coughed.  They both looked around.  "The Honorable Henry
Cabot

Lodge," he announced.

"Cabot," said Richard's mother.

"Kate my (tear," he replied, before kissing her on the cheek.

Kate smiled; her cousin was wearing a double-breasted jacket.

Richard smiled, because it looked twenty years old.

Richard and Mary Bigelow returned from Barbados almost as brown as the
natives.  They stopped off in New York to have dinner with Richard's
parents, who thoroughly approved of his choice.  After all, she was the
great-niece of Alan Lloyd, who had succeeded Richard's grandfather as
chairman of the family bank.

Once Richard had returned to the Red House, their Boston residence on

Beacon Hill, he quickly settled down and prepared himself for the
Business

School.  Everyone had warned him it was the most demanding course at
the university with the largest number of dropouts, but once the term
had started, even he was surprised by how little free time he had to
enjoy other pursuits.  Mary began to despair when he had to relinquish
his place in the string quartet and could manage to see her only on
weekends.

At the end of the first year she suggested they should return to
Barbados and was disappointed to find he intended to stay put in Boston
and continue studying.

When Richard returned for his final year he was determined to finish at
or near the top of his class, and his father warned him not to relax
until after the last exam paper had been completed.  His father had
added that if he did not make the top 10 percent he needn't apply for a
position at the bank.  William Kane would not be accused of nepotism.

At Christmas, Richard rejoined his parents in New York but remained for
only three days before returning to Boston.  His mother became quite
anxious about the pressure he was putting himself under, but Richard's
father pointed out that it was only for another six months.  Then he
could relax for the rest of his life.  Kate reserved her opinion; she
hadn't seen her husband rcl ax in twenty-five years.

At Easter, Richard called his mother to say he ought to remain in
Boston during the brief spring vacation, but she managed to convince
him he should come down for his father's birthday.  He agreed but added
that he would have to return to Harvard the next morning.

Richard arrived at the family home on East Sixty-eighth Street just
after four on the afternoon of his father's birthday.  His mother was
there to greet him, as were his sisters, Virginia and Lucy.  His mother
considered he looked drawn and tired, and she longed for his exams to
be over.  Richard knew that his father would not break his routine at
the bank for anyone's birthday.  He would all I've home a few minutes
after seven.

"What have you bought for Daddy's birthday?"  inquired Virginia.

"I was waiting for your advice," said Richard flatteringly, having
quite forgotten about a present.

"That's what I call leaving it until the last moment," said Lucy.  "I
bought my present three weeks ago."

"I know the very thing he needs," said his mother.  "A pair of
gloves-his old ones are nearly worn out."

"Dark blue, leather, with no pattern," said Richard, laughing.  "I'll
go to

Bloomingdale's right now."

He strode down Lexington Avenue, falling in with the pace of the city.
He was already looking forward to joining his father in the fall, and
felt confident that if there were no distractions in the last few
months he would come out in that top 10 percent.  He would emulate his
father and one day be chairman of the bank.  He smiled at the thought.
He pushed open the doors of Bloomingdale's, strode up the steps and
asked an assistant where he could buy gloves.  As he began making his
way through the crowded store he glanced at his watch.  Plenty of time
to be back and change for dinner before his father returned.  He looked
up at the two girls behind the glove counter.  He smiled; the wrong one
smiled back.

The smiling girl came quickly forward.  She was a honey blonde with a
little too much lipstick and one more button undone than Bloomingdale's
could possibly have approved of.  Richard couldn't help admiring such
confidence.

A small name tag pinned over her left breast read "Maisie Luntz."

"Can I help you, sir?"  she asked.

"Yes," said Richard.  He glanced toward the dark-haired girl.  "I need
a pair of gloves, dark blue, leather, with no pattern," he said without
letting his eyes return to the blonde.

Maisie selected a pair and put them on Richard's hands, pushing the
leather slowly down each finger and then holding them up for him to
admire.

"If they don't suit you, you could try another pair."

"No, that's just fine," he said.  "Do I pay you or the other girl?"

"I can take care of you."

"Damn," said Richard under his breath.  He left reluctantly, determined
he would return the next day.  Until that afternoon he had considered
love at first sight the most ridiculous clicm, fit only for readers of
women's magazines.

His father was delighted with the "sensible" present, as he referred to
the gloves over dinner that night, and even more delighted with
Richard's progress at Business School.

"If you we in the top ten percent I shall be happy to consider offering
you a position of trainee at the bank," he said for the thousandth
time.

Virginia and Lucy grinned.  "What if Richard comes out number one,
Daddy?

Will you make him chairman?"  asked Lucy.

"Don't tx~ frivolous, my girl.  If Richard ever becomes chairman it
will be because he will have earned the position after years of
dedicated, hard work."  He turned to his son.  "Now, when are you
returning to

Harvard?"

Richard was about to say tomorrow, when he said, "I think tomorrow. "

"Quite right" was all his father said.

The next day Richard returned not to Harvard, but to Bloomingdale's,
where he headed straight for the glove counter.  Before he had any
chance of letting the other girl serve him, Maisie pouDeed; he could do
nothing about it except purchase another pair of gloves and return
home.

The following morning, Richard returned to Bloomingdale's for a third
time and studied ties on the next counter until Maisie was busy scr
ving a customer and the other girl was free.  He then marched
confidently up to the counter and waited for her to serve him.  To
Richard's horror,

Maisie disengaged herself in mid-sentence from her customer and rushed
over while the other girl took her place.

"Another pair of gloves?"  giggled the blonde.

"Yes .. . Yes," he said lamely.

Richard left Bloomingdale's with yet another pair of gloves, dark blue,
leather, with no pattern.

The following day he told his father he was still in New York becauie
he had to gather some data from Wall Street to complete a paper.  As
soon as his father had left for the bank, he headed off to
Bloomingdale's.  This time he had a plan for ensuring he spoke to the
other girl.  He marched up to the glove counter fully expecting Maisie
to rush up, when the other assistant came forward to serve him.

"Good morning, sir," she said.

"Oh, good morning," said Richard, suddenly at a loss for words.

"Can I help you?"

"No-I mean yes.  I would like a pair of gloves," he added
unconvincingly.

"Yes, sir.  Have you considered dark blue?  In leather?  I'm sure we
have your size-unless we're sold out."

Richard looked at the name on her lapel badge: Jessie Kovats.  She
passed him the gloves, He tried them on.  They didn't fit.  He tried
another pair and looked toward Maisie.  She grinned at him
encouragingly.  He grinned nervously back.  Jessie Kovats handed him
another, pair of gloves.  This time they fit perfectly.

"I think that's what you're looking for," said Jessie.

"No, not really," said Richard.

Jessie lowered her voice and said, "I'll go and rescue Maisie, Why
don't you ask her out?  I'm sure she'll say yes."

"Oh, no," said Richard.  "You don't understand.  It's not her I want to
take out-it's you."

Jessie looked totally surprised.

"Will you have dinner with me tonight?"

"Yes," she said shyly.

"Shall I pick you up at your home?"

"No.  Let's meet at a restaurant."

"Where would you like to go?"

Jessie didn't reply.

"Allen's at Seventy-third and Third?"  Richard suggested.

"Yes, fine" was all Jessie said.

"Around eight suit you?"

"Around eight," said Jessie.

Richard left Bloomingdale's with what he wanted and it wasn't a pair of
gloves.

Richard couldn't remember a time when he had spent all day thinking
about a girl, but from the moment Jessie had said "Yes" he had thought
of nothing else.

Richard's mother was delighted that he had decided to spend another day
in New York and wondered if Mary Bigelow was in town.  Yes, she
decided, when she passed the bathroom and heard Richard singing, "Once
I had a secret love."

Richard gave an unusual amount of thought to what he should wear that
evening.  He decided against a suit, finally selecting a navy-blue
blazer and a pair of gray flannel slacks.  He also spent a little
longer looking at himself in the mirrx)r.  Too Ivy League, he feared,
but there wasn't much he could do about that at short notice.

He left the house on Sixty-eighth Street just before seven.  It was a
crisp, clear evening and he arrived at Allen's a few minutes after
seven-thirty and ordered himself a Budweiser.  Every few moments he
checked his watch as the minute hand climbed up toward eight o'clock,
and then every few seconds once it had passed the agreed hour,
wondering if he would be disappointed when he saw her again.

He wasn't.

She stood in the doorway looking radiant in a simple blue dress that he
assumed had come from Bloomingdale's, though any woman would have known
it was a Ben Zuckerman.  Her eyes searched the room.  At last she saw
Richard walking toward her.

"I am sorry to be late-" she began.

"It's not important.  What's important is that you came."

"You thought I wouldn't?"

"I wasn't sure," Richard said, smiling.  They stood staring at each
other.

"I'm sorry I don't know your name," he said, not wanting to admit he
had seen it every day at Bloomingdale's.

She hesitated.  "Jessie Kovats.  And yours?"

"Richard Kane," He said, offering her his hand.  She took it and he
found himself not wanting to let go.

"And what do you do when you're not buying gloves at Bloomingdale's?"
asked

Jessie.

"I'm at Harvard Business School."

"I'm surprised they didn't teach you that most people only have two
hands."

He laughed, already delighted that it wasn't going to be her looks
alone that would make the evening memorable.

"Shall we sit down?"  suggested Richard, taking her arm and leading her
to his table.

Jessie began to study the menu on the blackboard.

"Salisbury steak?"  she inquired.

"A hamburger by any other name," said Richard.

She laughed and he was surprised that she had picked up his
out-of-context quotation so quickly, and then felt guilty, because as
the evening progressed it became obvious that she had seen more plays,
read more novels and even attended more concerts that he had.  It was
the first time in his life he regretted his single- trii nded
dedication to studying.

"Do you live in New York?"  he asked.

"Yes," she said as she sipped the third coffee Richard had allowed the
waiter to pour.  "With my parents."

"Which part of town?"  he asked.

"East Fifty-seventh Street," Jessie replied.

"Then let's walk," he said, taking her hand.

Jessie smiled her agreement and they zigzagged back across town on
their stroll toward Fifty-seventh Street.  To prolong their time
together, Richard stopped to gaze into store windows he would normally
have passed on the trot.  Jessie's knowledge of fashion and shop
management was daunting.

Richard felt sorry that she had not been able to finish her education
but had left school at sixteen to work in the Baron Hotel before going
on to work at Bloomingdale's.

It took them nearly an hour to cover the sixteen blocks from the
restaurant.  When they reached Fifty-seventh Street, Jessie stopped
outside a small, old apartment house.

"This is where my parents live," she said.  He held on to her hand.

"I hope you will see me again," said Richard.

"I'd like that," said Jessie, not Sounding very enthusiastic.

"Tomorrow?"  asked Richard diffidently.

"Tomorrow?"  queried Jessie.

"Yes.  Why don't we go to the Blue Angel and see Bobby Short?"  He took
her hand again.  "It's a little more romantic than Allen's."

Jessie seemed uncertain, as if the request was causing her a problem.

"Not if you don't want to," he added.

"I'd love to," she said in a whisper.

"I'm having dinner with my father, so why don't I pick you up around
ten o'clock?"

"No, no," said Jessie.  "I'll meet you there.  It's only two blocks
away."

"Ten o'clock then."  He leaned forward and kissed her on the cheek.  It
was the first time he was aware of a delicate perfume.  "Good night,
Jessie," he said, and walked away.

Richard began to whistle Dvotak's Cello Concerto and by the time he
arrived home, he had reached the end of the first movement.  He
couldn't recall an evening he had enjoyed more.  He fell asleep
thinking about Jessie instead of Galbraith or Friedman.  The next
morning he traveled with his father down to Wall Street and spent a day
in the Journal's library, taking only a short break for lunch.  In the
evening, over dinner, he told his father about the research he had been
doing on the stock exchange into reverse takeover bids and feared he
might have sounded a little too enthusiastic.

After dinner he went off to his room.  He made sure that no one saw him
slip out of the front door a few minutes before ten.  Once he had
reached the Blue Angel he checked his table and returned to the foyer
to wait for

Jessie.

He could feel his heart beating and wondered why that had never
happened with Mary Bigelow.  When Jessie arrived, he kissed her on the
check and led her into the lounge.  Bobby Short's voice was floating
through the room: ""Are you telling me the truth or am I just another
lie?"

As Richard and Jessie walked in, Short raised his arm.  Richard found
himself acknowledging the wave although he had seen the artist only
once before and had never been introduced to him.

They were guided to a table in the center of the room and Jessie chose
the seat with her back to the piano.

Richard ordered a bottle of Chablis and asked Jessie about her day.

"Richard, there is something I must-"

"Hi, Richard."  He looked away.

"Hi, Steve.  May I introduce Jessie Kovats-Steve Mellon.  Steve and I
were at

Harvard together."

"Seen the Yankees lately?"  asked Steve.

"No," said Richard.  I only follow winners."

"Like Eisenhower.  With his handicap you would have thought he had been
to

Yale."  They chatted on for a few minutes.  Jessie made no effort to
interrupt them.  "Ah, she's arrived at last," said Steve, looking
toward the door.  "See you, Richard.  Nice to have met you, Jessie."

During the evening Richard told Jessie about his plans to come to New
York and work at Lester's, his father's bank.  She was such an intent
listener he only hoped he hadn't been boring her.  He enjoyed himself
even more than the previous night and when they left he waved to Bobby
Short as if they had grown up together.  When they reached Jessie's
home he kissed her on the lips for the first time.  For a moment she
responded, but then she said

"Good night" and disappeared into the old apartment building.

The next morning he returned to Boston.  As soon as he arrived back at
the

Red House he phoned Jessie: Was she free to go to a concert on Friday?
She said she was, and for the first time in his life he crossed days
off a calendar.  Mary phoned him later in the week and he tried to
explain to her as gently as he could why he was no longer available.

When the weekend came it was memorable.  The New York Philharmonic,
Dial M for Murder-Jessie even seemed to enjoy the New York Knicks.
Richard reluctantly returned to Harvard on Sunday night.  The next four
months were going to be long weeks and short weekends.  He phoned
Jessie every day and they were rarely apart on weekends.  He began to
dread Mondays.

During the Monday morning lecture on the crash of 1929, Richard found
he couldn't concentrate.  How was he going to explain to his father
that he had fallen in love with a girl who worked behind the gloves,
scarves and woolen hats counter at Bloomingdale's?  Even he couldn't
understand why such a bright, attractive girl could be so unambitious.
If only Jessie had been given the opportunities he had had .. . He
scribbled her name on the top of his class notes.  His father was going
to have to learn to live with it.

He stared at what he had written: "Jessie Kane."

When Richard arrived back in New York that weekend, he made an excuse
to his mother about running out of razor blades.  His mother suggested
that he use his father's.

"No, no, it's all right," said Richard.  "I need some of my own.  In
any case, we don't use the same brand."

Kate Kane thought this was strange because she knew they did.

Richard almost ran the eight blocks to Bloomingdale's.  When he reached
the glove counter, Jessie was nowhere to be seen.  Maisie was standing
in a corner filing her fingernails.

"Is Jessie around?"  he asked her breathlessly.

"No, she's already gone home-she left a few minutes ago.  She can't
have gone far.  Aren't you .. . T'

Richard ran out to Lexington Avenue.  He searched for Jessie's face
among the figures hurrying along.  He would have given up if he hadn't
recognized the flash of red, a scarf he had given her.  She was on the
other side of the street, turning toward Fifth Avenue.  Her apartment
was in the opposite direction; somewhat guiltily he decided to follow
her.  When she reached

Scribner's at Forty-eighth Street, he stopped and watched her go into
the bookshop.  If she wanted something to read, surely she could have
picked it up at Bloomingdale's?  He was puzzled.  He peered through the
window as

Jessie talked to a sales clerk.  who left her for a few moments and
then returned with two books.  He could just make out their titles: The
Affluent

Society by John Kenneth Galbraith and Inside Russia Today by John
Gunther.

Jessie signed for them-which surprised Richard-and left as he ducked
around the corner.

"Who is she?"  said Richard out loud as he watched her double back and
enter

Bendel's.  The doorman saluted respectfully, leaving a distinct
impression of recognition.  Once again Richard peered through the
window to see saleswomen fluttering around Jessie with more than casual
respect.  An older lady appeared with a package, which Jessie had
obviously been expecting.

She opened it to reveal a full-length evening dress in red.  Jessie
smiled and nodded as the saleslady placed the dress in a brown and
white box.  Then mouthing the words "Thank you," Jessie turned toward
the door without even signing for her purchase.  Richard barely managed
to avoid colliding with her as she hastened out of the store to jump
into a cab.

He grabbed a taxi that an old lady had originally thought was hers and
told the driver to follow Jessie's cab.  "Like the movies, isn't it?"
said the driver.  Richard didn't reply.  When the cab passed the small
apartment house outside of which Richard and Jessie normally parted, he
began to feel queasy.  The taxi in front continued for another hundred
yards and came to a halt outside a dazzling new apartment house
complete with a uniformed doorman, who was quick to open the door for
Jessie.  With astonishment and anger Richard jumped out of his cab and
started to make his way up to the door through which she had
disappeared.

"That'll be ninety-five cents, fella," said a voice behind him.

"Oh, sorry," said Richard.  He thrust his hand into his pocket and took
out a note, hurriedly pushing it at the cab driver, not thinking about
the change.

"Thanks, buddy," said the driver, clutching on to the five dollar
bill.

"Someone sure is happy today."

Richard hurried through the door of the building and managed to catch

Jessie at the elevator.  He followed her into the elevator.  She stared
at him but didn't speak.

"Who are, you?"  demanded Richard as the elevator door closed.  The
other two occupants stared in front of them with a look of studied
indifference as the elevator glided up to the second floor

"Richard," she stammered.  "I was going to tell you everything this
evening.

I never seemed to find the right opportunity."

"Like hell you were going to tell me," he said, following her out of
the elevator toward an apartment.  "Stringing me along with a pack of
lies for nearly three months.  Well, now the time has come for the
truth."

He pushed his way past her brusquely as she opened the door.  He looked
beyond her into the apartment while she stood helplessly in the
passageway.  At the end of the entrance hall there was a large living
room with a fine Oriental rug and a magnificent Georgian bureau.  A
handsome grandfather clock stood opposite a side table on which there
was a bowl of fresh anemones.  The room was impressive even by the
standards of

Richard's own home.

"Nice pi ace you've got yourself for a salesgirl," he said sharply.  "I
wonder which of your lovers pays for this."

Jessie took a pace toward him and slapped him so hard that her own palm
stung.  "How dare you?"  she said.  "Get out of my home."

As she -aid the words, she started to cry.  Richard took her in his
arms.

"Oh, God, I'm sorry," he said.  "That was a terrible thing to
suggest.

Please forgive me.  It's just that I love you so much and imagined I
knew you so well, and now I find I don't know a thing about you."

"Richard, I love you too and I'm sorry I hit you.  I didn't want to
deceive you, but there's no one else-I promise you that."  She louched
his cheek.

"It was the least I deserved," he said as he kissed her.

Clasped tightly in one another's arms, they sank onto the sofa and for
some moments remained almost motionless.  Gently he stroked her hair
until her tears subsided.  Jessie slipped her fingers through the gap
between his two top shirt buttons.

"Do you want to sleep with me?"  she asked quietly.

"No," He replied.  I want to stay awake with you all night."

Without speaking further, they undressed and made love, gently and
shyly at first, afraid to hurt each other, desperately trying to
please.

Finally, with her head on his shoulder, they talked.  "I love you,"
said Richard.  "I have since the first moment I saw you.

Will you marry me?  Because I don't give a damn who you are, Jessie, or
what you do, but I know I must spend the rest of my life with you."

"I want to marry you too, Richard, but first I have to tell you the
truth."

She pulled Richard's jacket over her naked body as he Jay silent
waiting for her to speak.

"My name is Florentyna Rosnovski," she began, and then told Richard
everything about herself.  Florentyna explained why she had taken the
name of Jessie Kovats-so that she would be treated like any other
salesgirl while she learned the trade, and not Re the daughter of the
Chicago Baron.

Richard never spoke once during her revelation and remained silent when
she came to the end.

"Have you stopped loving me already?"  she asked.  "Now that you know
who I really am?"

"Darling," said Richard very quietly.  "My father hates your father.
"

"What do you mean?"

"Just that the only time I ever heard your father's name mentioned in
his presence, he flew completely off the handle, saying your father's
sole purpose in life seemed to be a desire to ruin the Kane family."

"What?  Why?"  saij Florentyna, shocked.  "I've never heard of your
father.

How do they even know each other?  You must be mistaken.  "

"I wish I were," said Richard, and he repeated the little his mother
had once told him about the quarrel with her father.

"Oh, my God.  That must have been the "Judas' my father referred to
when he told how he changed banks after twenty years," she said.  "What
shall we do?"

"Tell them the truth," said Richard.  "That we met innocently, fell in
love and now we're going to be married.  And that nothing they can do
will stop us."

"Let's wait for a few weeks, said Florentyna.

"Why?"  asked Richard.  "Do you think your father can talk you out of
marrying me?"

"No, Richard," she said, touching him gently as she placed her head
back on his shoulder.  "Never, my darling.  But let's find out if we
can do anything to break the news gently before we present them both
with a fait accompli.

Anyway, maybe they won't feel as strongly as you imagine.  After all,
you said the problem with the Richmond Group was over twenty years ago.
"

"They still feel every bit as strongly, I promise you that.  My father
would be outraged if he saw us together, let alone thought we were
considering marriage."

"All the more reason to leave it for a little before we break the news
to them.  That will give us time to decide the best way to go about
it."

He kissed her again.  "I love you, Jessie."

"Florentyna."

"That's qomething else I'm going to have to get used to," he said,

To begin Richard allocated one afternoon a week to researching the feud
between the two fathers, but after a time it became an obsession,
biting heavily into his attendance at lectures.  The Chicago Baron's
attempt to get Richard's father removed from his own board would have
made a good case study for the Harvard Business School.  The more he
discovered, the more Richard realized that his father and Florentyna's
were formidable rivals.  Richard's mother spoke of the feud as if she
had needed to discuss it with someone for years.

"Why are you taking such an interest in Mr.  Rosnovski?"  she said.

"I came across his name when I was going through some back copies of
The

Wall Street Journal.  " The truth, he thought, but a lie.

Florentyna took a day off from Bloomingdale's and flew to Chicago to
tell her mother what had happened.  When Florentyna pressed her as to
what she knew of the row she spoke for almost an hour without
interruption.

Florentyna hoped her mother was exaggerating, but a few carefully
worded questions over dinner with George Novak made it painfully
obvious that she hadn't been.

Every weekend the two lovers exchanged their knowledge, which only
added to the catalogue of hate.

"It all seems so petty," said Florentyna.  "Why don't they just meet
and talk it over?  I think they would get on rather well together.  "

"I agree," said Richard.  "But which one of us is going to try telling
them that?"

"Both of us are going to have to, sooner or later."

As the weeks passed, Richard could not have been more attentive and
kind.

Although he tried to take Florentyna's mind off "sooner or later" with
regular visits to the theater, the New York Philharmonic and long walks
through the park, their conversation always drifted back to their
parents.

Even during a cello recital that Richard gave her in her flat,

Florentyna's mind was occupied by her father: how could he be so
obdurate?  As the Brahms sonata came to an end Richard put down his bow
and stared into her gray eyes.

"We have got to tell them soon," he said, taking her in his arms.

"I know we must.  I just don't want to hurt my father."

"I know."

She looked down at the floor.  "Next Friday, Papa will be back from

Washington."

"Then it'i next Friday," said Richard quietly, not letting her go.

As Florentyna watched Richard drive away that night she wondered if she
would be strong enough to keep her resolve.

On the Friday they both dreaded, Richard ducked his mo ming lecture and
traveled down to New York in time to spend the rest of the day with

Florentyna.

They spent that afternoon going over what they would say when they
respectively faced their parents.  At seven o'clock the two stepped out
of

Florentyna's apartment onto the pavement of Fifty-seventh Street.  They
walked without talking.  When they reached Park Avenue they stopped at
the light.

"Will you marry me?"

It was the last question on Florentyna's mind as she braced herself to
meet her father.  A tear trickled down her cheek, a tear that she felt
had no right to be there at the happiest moment of her life.  Richard
took a ring out of a little red box-a sapphire set in diamonds.  He
placed it on the third finger of her left hand.  He tried to stop the
tears by kissing her.

He and Florentyna broke and stared at each other for a moment.  Then he
turned and strode away.

They had agreed to meet again at the apartment as soon as their ordeal
was over.  She stared at the ring on her finger, and at the antique
ring on her right hand, her favorite of the past.

As Richard walked up Park Avenue he went over the sentences he had so
carefully composed in his mind and found himself on Sixty-eighth Street
long before he felt he had completed the rehearsal.

He found his father in the drawing room drinking the usual Teacher's
and soda before changing for dinner.  His mother was complaining that
his sister didn't eat enough.  "I think Virginia plans to be the
thinnest thing in New

York."  Richard wanted to laugh.

"Hello, Richard, I was expecting you earlier."

"Yes," said Richard.  "I had to see someone before I came home."

"Who?"  said his mother, not sounding particularly interested.

"The woman I am going to marry."

They both looked at him astonished; it certainly wasn't the opening
sentence Richard had planned so carefully.

His father was the first to recover.  "Don't you think you're a bit
young?

I feel sure you and Mary can afford to wait a little longer."

"It's not Mary I intend to marry."

"Not Mary?"  said his mother.

"No," said Richard.  "Her name is Florentyna Rosnovski."

Kate Kane turned white.

"The daughter of Abel Rosnovski?"  William Kane said without
expression.

"Yes, Father," said Richard firmly.

"Is this some sort of joke, Richard?"

"No, Father.  We met in unusual circumstances and fell in love without
either of us realizing there was a misunderstanding between our
parents."

"Misunderstanding?  Misunderstanding?"  he repeated.  "Don't you
realize that jumped-up Polish immigrant spends most of his life trying
to get me thrown off my own board-and once nearly succeeded?  And you
describe that as a 'misunderstanding."  Richard, you will never see the
daughter of that crook again if you hope to sit on the board of
Lester's Bank.  Have you thought about that?"

"Yes, Father, I have, and it will make no difference to my decision.  I
have met the woman with whom I intend to spend the rest of my life and
I am proud that she would even consider being my wife."

"She has tricked and ensnared you so that she and her father can
finally take the bank away from me.  Can't you see through their
plan?"

"Even you can't believe something as preposterous as that, Father.  "

"Preposterous?  He once accused me of being responsible for killing his
partner, Davis Leroy, when I-"

"Father, Florentyna knew nothing of the circumstances surrounding your
quarrel until she met me.  How can you be so irrational?"

"She has.  told you she's pregnant so you will have to marry her.  "

"Father, that was unworthy of you.  Florentyna has never put the
slightest pressure on me from the moment we met.  On the contrary."
Richard turned to his mother.  "Won't you both meet her and then you'll
understand how it came about?"

Kate was going to reply when Richard's father shouted, hNo.  Never,"
and turning to his wife, he asked her to leave em alone.  As she left,
Richard could see that she was weeping.

"Now listen to me, Richard.  If you marry the Rosnovski girl I will cut
you off without a penny."

"You suffer like generations of our family, Father, from imagining
money can buy everything.  Your son is not for sale."

"But you could marry Mary Bigelow-such a respectable girl, and from our
own background."

Richard laughed.  "Someone as wonderful as Florentyna couldn't be
replaced by a suitable Brahmin family friend."

"Don't you mention our backgrounds in the same breath as that stupid

Polack."

"Father, I never thought I would have to listen to such pathetic
prejudice from a normally sober person."

William Kane took a pace toward his son.  Richard never flinched.  His
father stopped in his tracks.  "Get out," he said.  "You're no longer a
member of my family.  Never .. ."

Ric-hard left the room.  As he walked across the hall he became aware
that his mother was leaning hunched against the banister.  He went to
her and took her in his arms.  She whispered.  "I'll always love you,"
and released him when she heard her husband come into the hall.

Richard closed the front door gently behind him.  He was back on

Sixty-eighth Street.  His only thought was how Florentyna had managed
to face her own encounter.  He hailed a cab and without looking back
directed it to Florentyna's apartment.

He had never felt so free in his life.

When he reached Fifty-seventh Street he asked the doorman if Florentyna
had returned.  She hadn't, so he waited under the canopy, beginning to
fear she might not have been able to get away.  He was deep in thought
and didn't notice when another cab came to a halt at the curb and the
frail figure of

Florentyna stepped out.  She was holding a tissue to a bleeding lip.
She rushed toward him and they quickly went upstairs to the privacy of
the apartment.

"I love You, Richard" were her first words.

"I love you, too," said Richard, and took her in his arms, holding her
tightly as if it would solve their problems.

Florentyna didn't let go of Richard as he spoke.

"He threatened to cut me off without a penny if I married you," he told
her.

"When will they understand we don't care a damn about their money?  I
tried appealing to my mother for support, but even she couldn't control
my father's temper.  He insisted that she leave the room.  I've never
seen him treat my mother that way before.  She was weeping, which only
made my resolve stronger.  I left him in mid-sentence.

God knows, I hope he doesn't take it out on Virginia and Lucy.  What
happened when you told your father?"

"He hit me," said Florentyna very quietly.  "For the first time in my
life.  I think he'll kill you if he finds us together.  Richard
darling, we must get out of here before he discovers where we are, and
he's bound to try the apartment first.  I'm so frightened."

"No need for you to be frightened.  We'll leave tonight and go as far
away as possible and to hell with them both."

"How quickly can you pack?"  asked Florentyna.

"I can't," said Richard.  "I can never return home now.  You pack your
things and then we'll go.  I've got about hundred dollars with me and
my cello, which is still in the bedroom.  How do you feel about
marrying a hundred-dollar man?"

"As much as a salesgirl can hope for, I suppose-and to think I dreamed
of being a kept woman.  Next you'll be wanting a dowry."  Florentyna
rummaged in her bag.  "Well, I've got two hundred and twelve dollars
and an American Express card.  You owe me fifty-six dollars, Richard
Kane, but

I'll consider repayment at a dollar a year."

"I think I like the idea of a dowry better," said Richard.

In thirty minutes Florentyna was packed.  Then she sat down at her
desk, scrawled a note to her father explaining she would never be
willing to see him again unless he would accept Richard.  She left the
envelope on the table by the side of her bed.

Richard hailed a cab.  "Idiewild," he said after placing Florentyna's
three suitcases and his cello in the trunk.

Once they had reached the airport Florentyna made a phone call.  She
was relieved when it was answered.  When she told Richard the news, he
reserved a flight.

The American Airlines Super Constellation 1049 taxied out onto the
runway to start its seven-hour flight.

Richard helped Flornentyna with her seat belt.  She smiled at him.

"Do you know how much I love you, Mr.  Kane?"

"Yes, I think so-Mrs.  Kane," he replied.

"You'll live to regret your actions tonight."

He didn't reply immediately, but just sat motionless, staring in front
of him.  Then all he said was "You will never contact him again."

She left the room without replying.

He sat alone in a crimson leather chair; time was suspended.  He didn't
hear the phone ring several times.  The butler knocked quietly on the
door and entered the room.

"A Mr.  Abet Rosnovski on the line, sir.  Are you in?"

William Kane felt4 sharp pain in the pit of his stomach.  He knew he
had to take the call.  He rose from his chair and only by a supreme
effort stopped himself from collapsing back into it.  He walked over to
the phone and picked it up.

"William Kane speaking."

"This is Abel Rosnovski."

"Indeed, and when exactly did you think of setting up your daughter
with my son?  At the time, no doubt, when you failed so conspicuously
to cause the downfall of my bank."

"Don't be- such a damn .. ."  Abel checked himself before continuing.
"I want this marriage stopped every bit as much as you do.  I never
tried to take away your son.  I only learned of his existence today.  I
love my daughter even more than I hate you and I don't want to lose
her.  Can't we get together and work something out between us?"

"No," said William Kane.

"What's the good of raking over the past now, Kane?  If you know where
they are, perhaps we can stop them.  That's what you want too.  Or are
you so goddamn proud that you'll stand by and watch your son marry my
girl rather than help?"

William Kane hung up the phone and walked back to the leather chair.
"The butler returned.  "Dinner is served, sir."

"No dinner, and I'm not at home."

"Yes, sir," said the butler, and left the room.

William Kane sat alone.  No one disturbed him until eight o'clock the
next morning.

WHEN FLIGHT 1049 landed at San Francisco's International Airport,

Florentyna hoped it hadn't been too short notice.  Richard had ha idly
placed a foot on the tarmac when he saw a massive woman charge toward
them and throw her arms around Florentyna.  Florentyna still couldn't
get her arms around Bella.

"You don't give a girl much time, do you?  Calling just as you're
boarding the plane."

"I'm sorry, Bella, I didn't know until--2,

"Don't be silly.  Claude and I had been grumbling that we didn't have
anything to do this evening."

Florentyna laughed and introduced the two of them to Richard.

"Is that all the luggage you have?"  queried Bella, staring down at the
three suitcases and the cello.

"We had to leave in rather a hurry," explained Florentyna.

"Well, there's always been a home for you here," said Bella,
immediately picking up two of the suitcases.

"Thank God for you, Bella.  You haven't changed a bit," said
Florentyna.

"I have in one respect.  I'm six months pregnant.  It's just that I'm
like a giant panda-nobody's noticed."

The two girls dodged in and out of the airport traffic to the parking
lot with Richard carrying the cello and Claude following in their
wake.

During the journey into San Francisco, Bella revealed that Claude had
become an associate in the law firm of Pillsbury, Madison and Sutro.

"Hasn't he done well?"  she said.

"And Bella's the senior physical education teacher at the local high
school and they haven't lost a hockey game since she joined them,"
said

Claude with equal pride.

"And what do you do?"  said Bella, prodding a finger into Richard's
eh~st.

"From your luggage I can only assume that you're an out-of-work
musician."

"Not exactly," said Richard, laughing.  "I'm a would-be banker, and I
shall be looking for a job tomorrow."

"When arc you getting married?"

"Not for three weeks at least," said Florentyna.  "I want to be married
in a church and they'll have to read the banns first."

"So you'll he living in sin," declared Claude as he drove past the
"San

Francisco Welcomes Careful Drivers" sign.  "Quite the modern couple.  I
always wanted to, but Bella wouldn't hear of it.  "And why did you
leave New York so suddenly?"  asked Bella, ignoring

Claude's comment.

Florentyna explained how she had met Richard and the historic feud that
existed between their fathers.  Bella and Claude listened incredulously
to the story, both remaining unusually silent, until the car came to a
halt.

"This is our home," said Claude.  He put the brakes on firmly and left
the car in first gear.

Florentyna got out on the side of a steep hill not quite overlooking
the bay.

"We go higher up the hill when Claude becomes a partner," said Bella.
"But this will have to do for now."

"It's fantastic," said Florentyna as they entered the little house. She
smiled when she saw hockey sticks in the umbrella stand.

"I'll take you straight to your room so you can unpack."  Bella led her
two guests up a small winding staircase to the spare room on the top
floor.  "It may not be the Presidential Suite at the Baron, but it's
better than joining the beatniks on the streets.  "

It was some weeks before Florentyna discovered that Bella and Claude
had spent the afternoon lugging their double bed up the stairs to the
spare room and carrying the two singles back down so that Richard and
Florentyna could spend their first night together.

It was 4 A m. New York time when Florentyna and Richard finally climbed
into bed.

"Well, now that Grace Kelly is no longer available, I suppose I'm stuck
with you.  Although I don't know, I think Claude may be right.  Perhaps
we should live in sin."

"If you and Claude lived together in sin, no one in San Francisco would
even notice."

"Any regrets so far?"

"Yes.  I always hoped I'd end up with a man who slept on the left-hand
side of the bed."

In the morning, after a Bella-type breakfast, Florentyna and Richard
scoured the papers for jobs.

"We must try and find something quickly.  I don't think our money will
last for more than about a month," said Florentyna.

"It may be easier for you.  I can't believe that many banks will offer
me a job without a degree or at least a reference from my father."  "
Don't worry," said Florentyna, ruffling his hair.  "We can beat both
our fathers."

Richard turned out to be right.  It took Florentyna only three days and
her prospective employers one phone call to the personnel director at

Bloomingdale's before she was offered a position at a young fashion
shop called Wayout Columbus, which had advertised for a "bright sales
assistant" in the Chronicle.  It was only another week before the
manager realized what a bargain they had picked up.

Richard, on the other hand, plodded around San Francisco from bank to
bank.

The personnel director always asked him to call back and when he did,
there suddenly "wasn't a position available at the present time for
someone with his qualifications."  As the day of the wedding drew
nearer, Richard became increasingly anxious.

"You can't blame them," he told Florentyna.  "They all do a lot of
business with my father and they won't want to upset him."

"Bunch of cowards.  Can you think of anyone who has had a row with
Lester's

Bank and therefore refuses to deal with them?"

Richard buried his head in his hands and considered the question for a
few moments.  "Only the Bank of America.  My father had a quarrel with
them once over a stop-loss guarantee which they took rather a long time
to honor and it resulted in a considerable loss in interest.  He swore
he would never do business with them again.  It's worth a try-I'll give
them a call tomorrow."

When the manager interviewed him the next day he asked if the reason

Richard had applied to work at the Bank of America was the well-known
disagreement with his father.

"Yes, sir," replied Richard.  *~Good, then we have something in common.
You will start on Monday as a junior teller, and if you are indeed the
son of William Kane

I don't imagine you will stay in that position for long."

On the Saturday of their third week in San Francisco, Richard and

Florentyna were married in a simple ceremony at St.  Edward's Church
on

California Street.  Father O'Reilly-accompanied by Florentyna's
mother-flew in from Chicago to conduct the ervice.  Claude gave the
bride away and then ran around to Richard's side to be best man while
Bella was the matron of honor, gargantuan in a pink maternity smock.
The six celebrated that night with a dinner at DiMaggio's on
Fisherman's Wharf.  Florentyna's and

Richard's combined weekly salaries didn't cover the final bill, so
Zaphia came to the rescue.

"If you four want to eat out again," added Zaphia, "just give me a call
and

I'll be out on the next plane.  "

Bride and groom crept into bed at one o'clock in the mo ming

"I never thought I would end up married to a bank teller."

"I never ihought I would end up married to a shop assistant, but
sociologically it ought to make an ideal partnership."

"Let's hope it doesn't end with sociology," said Flornentyna as Richard
turned off the light.

Abet tried every means at his disposal to discover where Florentyna had
disappeared.  After days of phone calls, telegrams and even attempts to
involve the police, he realized he had only one lead left open.  He
dialed a number in Chicago.

"Hello," said a voice every bit as cold as William Kane's.

"You must know why I'm calling."

"I can guess."

"How long have you known about Florentyna and Richard Kane?"

"About three months.  Florentyna flew up to Chicago and told me all
about him.  Later I met Richard at the wedding.  She didn't exaggerate.
He's a rare man."

"Do you know where they are right now?"  demanded Abel.

"Yes .

"Where?"

"Find out for yourself."  The line went dead.  Someone else who didn't
want to help.

On the desk in front of him lay an unopened file giving details of his
forthcoming trip to Europe.  He flicked over the pages.  Two airplane
tickets, two reservations in London, Edin burgh and Cannes.  Two opera
tickets, two theater tickets, but now only one person was going.
Florentyna would not be opening the Edinburgh Baron or the

Cannes Baron.

He sank into a fitful sleep from which he didn't want to be wakened.
Goorge found him slumped at his desk at eight o'clock the next
morning.

He promised Abel that by the time he had returned from Europe, he would
have located Florentyna, but Abel now realiyed-after reading
florentyna's letter again and again-that even if he did, she would not
agree to see him.

"I WOULD LIKE TO BORROW thirty-four thousand dollars," said
Florentyna.

"What do you need the money for?"  said Richard coldly.

"I want to take a lease on a building on Nob Hill to open a fashion
shop."

"What are the terms of the lease?"

"Ten years, with an option to renew."

"What security can you offer against the loan?"

"I own three thousand shares in the Baron Group."

"But that's a private company," said Richard, "and the shares are in
effect worthless as they can't be traded over the counter."

"But the Baron Group is worth fifty million dollars of anybody's money,
and my shares represent one percent of the company."

"How did you come into possession of these shares?"

"My father is the chairman of the company and he gave them to me on my
twenty-first birthday."

"Then why don't you borrow the money direct from him?"

"Oh, hell," said Florentyna.  "Will they be that demanding?"

"I'm afraid so, Jessie."

"Are all bank managers going to be as tough as you'?  They never
treated me like this in Chicago."

"That's because they had the security of your father's account.  Anyone
who doesn't know you is m going to be as accommodating.  A loan manager
has to consider that every new transaction will not be repaid, so
unless his risk is covered twice over, it's his job that will be on the
line.  When you borrow money you must always look across the table and
consider the other person's point of view.  Everyone who wants to
borrow money is sure they are on to a winner, but the manager knows
that over fifty percent of the deals put up to him will eventually
fail, or at best break even.  So the manager has to pick and choose
carefully to be certain he can always see a way of retrieving his
money.  My father used to say that most financial deals saw a return of
one percent for the bank, which didn't allow you the opportunity to
make a one hundred percent loss more than once every five years."

"That all makes sense, so how do I answer "Why don't you go to your
father'?"

"Tell the truth.  Remember, banking is based on trust, and if they know
you're always being straight with them, they'll stand by you when you
are going through hard times."

"You still haven't answered the question."

"You simply say, "My father and I quarreled over a family matter and
now I want to succeed in my own right."

"Do you mink that will work?"

"I don't know, but if it does, at least you'll have started with all
your cards on the table.  Let's go back over it again."

"Must we""

"Yes.  No one owes you money, Jessie."

I would like to borrow thirty-four thousand dollars."

"What do you need the money for?"

I would like to take a-"

"Supper's ready," roared Bella.

"Rescued," said Florentyna.

"Only until after we've eaten.  How many banks are you seeing on
Monday?"

"Three.  Bank of California, Wells Fargo and Crocker.  Why don't I pop
along to the Bank of America and you can simply pass the thirty-four
thousand over the counter?"

"Because there are no coed prisons in America."

Claude put his head around the door.  "Hurry up, you two, or there
won't be any left."

George spent as much time following up leads on Florentyna as he did
being managing director of the Baron Group.  He was determined to come
up with sonic concrete results before Abel returned from Europe.

George had a little more success in one quarter than Abel.  Zaphia was
pleased to inform him that she was making regular trips to the Coast to
see the happily married couple.  It took George only one phone call to
a travel agent in Chicago to discover that those trips had been to San
Francisco.  Within twenty-four hours he had Florentyna's address and
phone number.  On one occasion George even managed a brief conversation
with his goddaughter, but she was fairly reticent with him.

Henry Osborne made a pretext at wanting to help, but it soon became
obvious that he only wished to know what was going on in Abel's life.
He even tried to press George into lending him some more money.

"You'll have to wait until Abel re turns George told him sharply.

"I am not sure I can last that long."

"I'm sorry, Henry, but I don't have the authority to sanction personal
loans."

"Not even to a board member?  You may live to regret that decision,

George.  After all, I know a lot more about how the Group got started
than you do, and I am sure there are others who would be willing to pay
me well for such information."

George always arrived at Idlewild Airport thirty minutes early
whenever

Abel was returning from Europe.  He knew the Baron, like any newly
appointed director, would be impatient to learn of any developments
within the Group.  But this time he felt cer laing that Abel's opening
question would be on a different subject.

As always, Abel was one of the first through Customs and once he and

George were seated in the back of the company Cadillac, He wasted no
time on small talk.

"What news?"  he demanded, only too aware that George would know to
what he was referring.

"Some good, some bad," said George as he pressed a button by the side
window.  Abel watched a sheet of glass glide up between the driver and
the passenger section of the car.  He tapped his finger on the side
pane impatiently as he waited.  "Florentyna continues to be in touch
with her mother.  She's living in a small house in San Francisco with
some old friends from Radcliffe days."

"Married?"

"Yes .

Abel didn't speak for some moments, as if taking in the finality of the
statement.

"And the Kane boy?"  he asked.

"He's found a job in a bank.  It seems a lot of people turned him down
because word got around that he didn't complete Harvard Business School
and his father wouldn't supply a reference.  Not many people were
willing to employ him if as a consequence they antagonized William
Kane.  He was finally hired as a junior teller with the Bank of
America, at a salary way below what he might have expected with his
qualifications."

"And Florentyna?"

"She's working as the assistant manager in a fashion shop called
"Wayout

Columbus' near Golden Gate Park.  She's also been trying io borrow
money from several banks."

"Why?"  ~;aid Abel, sounding worried.  "Is she in any sort of
trouble?"

"No, she's "king, for capital to open her own shop."

"How MUCh is she ~oping to raise?"

"She needs thirty-four thousand dollars for the lease on a small
building that's become vacant on Nob Hill."

Abel considered this piece of news for a moment.  "See that she gets
the money.  Make it look as if the transaction is an ordinary bank loan
and be sure that it's not traceable back to me."  He started tapping on
the window again.  "This must always remain between the two of us,
George."

"Anything you say, Abel."

"And keep me informed of every move she makes, however trivial."

"What about Richard Kane?"

"I'm not interested in him," said Abel.  "Now, what's the bad news?"

"Trouble with Henry Osborne again.  It seems he owes money elsewhere
and I'm fairly certain his only source of income is you.  He's still
making threats-about revealing that you condoned bribes in the early
days when you had taken over the Group.  Says he's kept all the papers
from the first day he met you, when he claims he fixed an extra payment
after the fire at the old Richmond in Chicago.  He's telling everyone
that he now has a file on you three inches thick."

"I'll deal with Henry in the morning," said Abel.

Abel was fully up to date on the Group's activities when Henry arrived
for his private meeting.  Abel looked up at him: the heavy drinking and
the debts were beginning to take their toll.  For the first time, Abel
thought Henry looked older than his years.

"I need a little money to get me through a tricky period," said Henry
even before they had shaken hands.  "Been a bit unlucky

"Again, Henry?  You should know better at your age.  How much do you
need this time?"

"Ten thousand would see me through," said Henry.

"Ten thousand," said Abel, spitting out the words.  "What do you think
I am, a gold mine?  It was only five thousand last time."

"Inflation," said Henry, trying to laugh.

"This is the last time, do you understand me?"  said Abel as he took
out his checkbook.  "Come begging once more and I'll remove you from
the board and turn you out without a penny.

"You're a real friend, Abel.  I swear I'll never come back again-I
promise you that.  Never again."  Abel watched Henry take a cigar from
the humidor on the table in front of him and light it.  George hadn't
done that in twenty years.  "Thanks, Abel.  You'll never regret your
decision."

Henry sauntered out of the office drawing on the cigar.  Abel waited
for the door to be closed, then buzzed for George.  He appeared moments
later.

"What happened?"

"I gave in for the last time," said Abel.  "I don't know why it cost me
ten thousand."

"Ten thousand?"  said George, sighing.  "You can be sure he'll be back
again.

I*d be willing to put money on that."

"He'd better not," said Abel, "because I'm through with him.  Whatever
he's done for me in the past it's now quits.  Anything new about my
girl?"

"I've set up a facility for Florentyna with the Crocker National Bank
of

San Francisco," said George.  "She has an appointment next Monday with
the loan officer.  The agreement will appear to her as one of the
bank's ordinary loan transactions, with no special favors.  In fact,
they're charging her half a percent more than usual so there can be no
reason for her to be suspicious.  What she doesn't know is that the
money is covered by your guarantee."

"Thanks, George, that's perfect.  I'll bet you ten dollars she pays off
the loan within three years and never needs to go back for another. "

"That's not a bet I'm willing to take," said George.

Abel laughed.  "Keel) me briefed on everything she's up to.
Everything."

Florentyna visited three banks the following Monday.  The Bank of
California showed some interest, Wells Fargo none, and Crockerasked her
to call back.

Richard was surprised and delighted.

"What terms did they discuss?"

"The Bank of California says it would want eight percent and has to
hold the deeds of the lease.  Crocker wants eight and a half percent,
the deeds and my shares in.  the Baron Group.  "

"Fair terms considering you have no banking history with them, but it
will mean you must make a twenty-five percent profit before taxes just
to break even."

"I've worked it all out on paper, Richard, and I think I'll make
thirty-two percent in the first year."

"I studied those figures last night, Jessie, and you're being overly
optimistic.  You have no hope of achieving that.  In fact, I think the
company will lose between seven and ten thousand in the first yttar-so
you'll just have to hope they believe in your long-term future."

"That's exactly what the loan officer said."

"When are they going to let you know their decision?"

"By the end of the week.  It's worse than waiting for exam results."

"You've done well, Kane," said the manager.  "And I am advising the
head office to promote you.  What I have in mind-"

The phone buzzed on the manager's desk.  He picked it up and
listened.

"It's for you," he said, surprised, before passing it to Richard.

"The Bank of California said their loans committee had turned me down,
but

Crocker said yes.  Oh, Richard, isn't that wonderful?"

"Yes, ma'am, it's good news indeed," said Richard, avoiding the
manager's eyes.

"Well, that's very kind of you to say so, Mr.  Kane.  Now I also have
tHs sociological problem and I was wondering if you could help in some
way."

"Perhaps if you were to come around the bank, ma'am, we could discuss
it in greater detail."

"What a great idea.  I've always had this fantasy of making love in a
bank vault surrounded by money.  Lots and lots of Benjamin Franklins
staring at me."

"I agree with your proposition, ma'am, and I'll call you and confirm at
the first possible opportunity."

"Don't leave it too long or I may decide to move my account."

"We always try to be of service at the Bank of America, ma'am."

"If you look at my account, there's not much sign of it."

The phone clicked.

"Where are we having the celebration?"  asked Richard.

"I told you over the phone-in the bank vault."

"Darling, when you called I was in private conference with the manager
and he was offering me the post of number three in the overseas
department.  11

"That's fantastic.  Then it's a double celebration.  Let's go to
Chinatown and have five takeouts and five giant Cokes."

"Why five, Jessie?"

"Because Bella will be joining us.  Incidentally, Mr.  Kane, I prefer
it when you call me ma'am."

"No, I think I'll stick with Jessie.  It reminds me how far you've come
since we met."

Claude arrived that evening carrying a bottle of champagne under each
arm.

"Let's open one immediately and celebrate," said Bella.

"Agreed," said Florentyna, "but what about the other one?"

"It's to be saved for some special occasion that none of us could
anticipate," Claude said firmly.

Richard opened the first bottle and poured out four glasses while

Florentyna put the second in the corner of the refrigerator.

She signed the lease for the tiny building on Nob Hill the next day and
the

Kanes moved into the small apartment above the store.  Florentyna,
Bella and

Richard spent their weekends painting and cleaning while Claude, the
most artistic of the four, printed the name "Florentyna's" in royal
blue above the store window.  A month later they were ready to open.

During tier first week as owner, manager and clerk, Florentyna
contacted all the main wholesalers who had dealt with her father in New
York.  In no time she had a shop full of goods and ninety days'
credit.

Florentyna opened the little store on August 1, 1958.  She always
remembered the date because just after midnight Bella produced a
twelve-pound baby.

Florentyna had sent out a large mailing announcing the opening of the
store, choosing the day before the government raised postage stamps
from three cents to four.  She had also stolen an assistant named
Nancy

Ching-who had Maisie's charm but fortunately not Maisie's IQ-from her
old employers, Wayout Columbus.  On the morning of the opening, the two
girls stood by the door in hopeful anticipation, but only one person
came into the store the whole day and all he wanted to know was the way
to the Mark

Hopkins.  The next morning, a young woman came in and spent an hour
looking at all the shirts they had in from New York.  She tried on
several but left without purchasing anything.  In the afternoon another
lady fussed about for a long time and finally bought a pair of
gloves.

"How much will that be?"  she asked.

"Nothing," said Florentyna.

"Nothing?"  queried the lady.

"That's correct.  You are the first customer to make a purchase at

Florentyna's and there will be no charge."

"How kind of you," said the lady.  "I shall tell all my friends."

"You never gave me any gloves when I shopped at Bloomingdale's, Miss

Kovats," said Richard that evening.  "You'll be bankrupt by the end of
the month if you go on like that."

But this time his judgment proved wrong.  The lady turned out to be
president of the Junior League in San Francisco and one word from her
was worth more than a full-page advertisement in the San Francisco
Chronicle.

For -the first few weeks Florentyna seemed to be working an
eighteen-hour day, for as soon as the doors closed she would check the
inventory while

Richard went over the books.  As the months passed she began to wonder
how the little store could ever hope to make a profit.

At the end of her first year they invited Bella and Claude to join in
celebrating the loss of $7,380.

"We've got to achieve better results next year," said Florentyna
finTily.

"Why?"  said Richard.

"Because our grocery bills are going to be larger."

"is Bella coming to live with us?"

"No, I'm pregnant."

Richard was overjoyed, and his only anxiety was that he couldn't stop

Florentyna from working right up until the day she went iDt4,) the
hospital.  They celebrated the end of their second year with a small
profit of $2,000 and a large son of nine pounds three ounces.  He had
only one nipple.  The decision on what they would call their firstborn,
if it was a boy, had been made weeks before.

George Novak was both shocked and delighted to be chosen godfather
for

Florentyna's son.  Although he didn't admit as much, Abel was also
pleased, for he welcomed any opportunity to find out what was happening
in his daughter's life.

The day before the christening, George flew out to Los Angeles to check
on the progress of the new Baron.  Abel was determined to have the
building completed by the middle of September in order that John
Kennedy could open it while he was on the campaign trail.  George then
flew on to San Francisco confident that Abel's deadline would be met.

By nature George took a long time to like people and even longer to
trust them, but not so with Richard Kane.  He took to him immediately,
and once he was able to see for himself what Florentyna had achieved in
such a short time, it became obvious that she could not have done it
without her husband's common sense and cautious approach.  George
intended to leave Abel in no doubt how he felt about the boy.

After a quiet dinner the two men played backgammon at a dollar a point
and discussed the christening.  "Not at all like Florentyna's was,"
George confided to Richard, who laughed at the thought of his reluctant
father-in-law spending a night in jail.

"You seem to throw doubles all the time," said George, sipping the
Remy

Martin that Richard had poured for him.

"My father .. . " said Richard, and then hesitated for a moment,
"always accused me of being a bad loser if I made any mention of
doubles."

George laughed.  "And how is your father?"

"I've no idea.  There's been no contact with him since Jessie and I
were married."  George still couldn't get used to hearing his
goddaughter being called Jessie.  When he was told the reason why, he
knew it would amuse

Abel.

"I'm sorry your father seems to be reacting the same way as Abel,"
said

George.

"I remain in touch with my mother," continued Richard, sipping his
brandy, "but I can see no end to my father's attitude, especially while
Abel continues to try and increase his holding in Lester's.  "

"Are you sure of that?"  asked George, sounding surprised.

"Two years ago every banker on Wall Street knew what he was up to."

"Abel is now so set in his ways," said George, "I can't make him listen
to reason.  But I don't believe he will cause any more trouble at the
moment," he added, before returning to his brandy.  Richard didn't
inquire why: he realized that if George wanted to explain he would.

"You see, if Kennedy wins the election," George continued, once he had
put his glass down, "Abel has an outside chance of a minor appointment
in the new administration.  I put it no higher than that."

"Our ambassador to Poland, no doubt," said Florentyna as she came into
the room carrying a tray laden with coffee cups.  "He would be the
first Polish immigrant to be so honored.  I've known about that
ambition ever since our trip to Europe."

George didn't reply.

"Is Henry Osborne behind this?"  asked Florentyna.

"No, he doesn't even know about it," said George, relaxing back in his
chair.  "Your father no longer places any trust in him.  Since Henry
lost his seat in Congress he has proved unreliable, to say the least,
and your father is even considering removing him from the board."

"At last Papa woke up to what a nasty piece of work Henry really is."

"I think he's always known, but there's no denying Henry was useful to
your father when he was in Washington.  Personally, I think he's still
dangerous despite being removed from Congress."

"Why?"  asked Florentyna.

"Because I suspect he knows too much about the enmity between Abel
and

Richard's father, and if he gets into any more debt, I fear he may
trade that information with Mr.  Kane direct."

"Never," said Richard.

"How can you be so sur eT asked George.

"You mean after all these years you don't know?"  Richard asked.

George stared from one to the other.  "Know what?"

"Obviously not," said Florentyna.

"You'll need a double," said Richard, and poured George another large
brandy before continuing.

"Henry Osborne hates my father even more than Abel does."

"What?  Why?"  said George, leaning forward.

"Henry was married to my grandmother, after my grandfather died."
Richard poured himself another coffee before continuing.  "Many years
ago when he was a young man, he tried to pail my grandmother from a
small family fortune soon after my grandfather had died.  Osborne
didn't succeed because my father, aged only seventeen, discovered that
Henry's Harvard and military background was nothing more than a front
and proceed cd to throw him out of his own home."

"Om6j Jezu!"  said George.  "I wonder if Abel knows any of this."  He
hadn't noticed it was his turn to throw the dice.

"Of course he does," said Florentyna.  "it must have been the deciding
factor for employing Henry in the first place.  He needed someone on
his side who he could be certain would never open his mouth to Kane."

"How did you find out?"

"Pieced it together when Richard discovered I wasn't Jessie Kovats.
Most of the stuff on Henry is in a file locked in the bottom of Papa's
desk."

I thought I was too old to learn so much in one day," said George.

"Your day's learning hasn't begun," said Richard.  "Henry Osborne never
went to Harvard, never served in the war, and his real name is Vittorio
Togna."

George didn't speak, just opened his mouth.

"We also know that Papa has got hold of six percent of Lester's Bank.
Just imagine the problems he could cause if he could lay his hands on
another two percent," said Florentyna.

"We suspect he's trying to buy that two percent from Peter Parfitt, the
man who opposed my father when he was proposed for chairman of
Lester's.  Abel's final aim is the removal of my father from his own
board," Richard added.

"That may have been right in the past."

"Why not now?"  queried Florentyna.

"Abel won't become involved with anything as silly as removing your
father from the bank while Kennedy has him in mind for Warsaw.  So you
need have no fear in that direction.  And perhaps that might make you
consider coming as my guest to see the candidate open the new Baron in
Los Angeles?"

"Is there any hope that Richard will be invited as well?"  "You know
the answer to that, Florentyna."  "Another game, George?"  said
Richard.  "No, thank you.  I know a winner when I see one."  He removed
his wallet from an inside pocket and handed over eleven dollars.  "Mind
you, I still blame the doubles."

NANCY CHING HAD RUN THE STORE WELL while Florentyna was away in the
hospital, but with Kane junior safety parked in a crib in die back
room,

Florentyna was only too happy to return to work.  She explained to
Miss

Tredgold when she sent the first photo of them together that she was
hoping to be a responsible mother until it became impossible not to
employ someone.  "Not that I'll find anyone like you outside of Much
Hadham," she added.  Drifing the first two years of their marriage,
both she and Richard had concentrated on building their careers.  While
Florentyna was acquiring her second store, Richard was advancing
another rung on the bank ladder.

Florentyna would have liked to spend more time concentrating on fashion
trends rather than day-to-day finances, but she felt unable to ask
Richard to spend every night on her books after he returned from the
bank.  She discussed her bold ideas for the future with Nancy, who was
a little skeptical about placing so many orders for small women's
sizes.  "it may suit me"-the petite Chinese girl grinned--but not most
American women."

"I don't agree.  Small is going to be beautiful and we must be the
first to anticipate it.  If American worn en think it's the trend, we
are going to witness a skinny revolution the like of which will even
make you look fat."

Nancy laughed.  "Looking at your future orders for fours and sixes,
you'd better be right."

Neither Richard nor Florentyna brought up the vexing subject of their
families after George's visit since they both despaired of any
reconciliation.  They both spoke to their mothers on the phone from
time to time, and although Richard received letters from his two
sisters, he was particularly sad that he was not invited to attend
Virginia's wedding.  This unhappy state of affairs might have drifted
on indefinitely had it not been for two events.  The first was hard to
avoid, while the second was caused when the wrong person picked up the
phone.

The first occurred because it was Los Angeles' turn to open a Baron.

Florentyna followed its progress with great interest while she was
preparing to open her third store.  The new hotel was completed in
September 1960 and Florentyna took the afternoon off to watch Senator
John Kennedy perform the opening ceremony.  She stood at the back of a
large crowd that had come to see the candidate while she kept an eye on
her father.  He seemed to her a lot older and had certainly put on
weight, From those who were surrounding him it was obvious that he was
now well connected in

Democratic circles.  If Kennedy was elected, she wondered, would her
father be offered the chance to serve under him.  Florentyna was
impressed by the competent speech of welcome Abel made, but she was
mesmerized by the young

Presidential candidate who seemed to her to embody the new America.
After she had heard him, she passionately wanted John Kennedy to be the
next

President.  As soon as the speech was over, she left the newly opened
Baron resolved to give time in San Francisco and send money to the
Ninth District of Illinois for the Kennedy campaign, although she
suspected that her father had already contributed a sum that would make
her own efforts appear minuscule.  Richard remained unshakably
Republican and a supporter of Nixon.

"No doubt you remember what Eisenhower said when he was asked about
your standard-bearer?"  Florentyna teased.

"Something unflattering, I'm sure."  ""During your administration , a
journalist asked him, 'in which major decisions has Vice President
Nixon participated?"

"And what was Ike's reply?"  inquired Richard.  ""If you give me a
week, I might think of one."

During the remaining weeks of the campaign, Florentyna spent what free
time she had addressing envelopes and answering phone calls at the
party's headquarters in San Francisco.  Unlike the past two elections,
she was convinced the Democrats had found a man in whom she could place
unreserved support.  The final television debate between the candidates
re-awakened in her the political ambitions so nearly buried by Henry
Osbotme.  Kennedy's charisma and political insight were dazzling, and
Florentyna was left to wonder how anyone who had followed the campaign
could possibly vote Republican.  Richard pointed out to her that
charisma and good looks were not to be traded for a future policy and a
proven record, ever) if it had to include a five o'clock shadow.

All through election night Richard and Florentyna sat up watching the
results.  The twists, the turns and the upsets lasted all the way to

California, where by the smallest margin in American electoral
history

Kennedy became President.  Florentyna was ecstatic about the final
outcome, while Richard maintained that Kennedy would never have made it
without

Mayor Daley and the Cook County ballot boxes-or lack of them.

"Would you vote the Democratic ticket if I were running for office?"
"it would depend on your policies.  I'm a banker, not a
sentimentalist."

"Well, unsentimentid banker, I want to open another store."

"What?"  said Richard.

"There's a bargain going in San Diego, a building with a lease of only
two years to run, but it could be renewable."

"How muchT'

"Thirty thousand dollars."

"You're mad, Jessie.  That's your projected profits for this year gone
in expansion."

"And wh0e you're on the subject of expansion, I'm pregnant again."

When the thirty-fifth President delivered his inaugural address
Florentyna and Richard watched the cere money on television in the
apartment above the main shop,

"Let the word go forth from this time and place, to friend and foe
alike, that the torch has been passed to a new generation of Americans,
born in this century, tempered by war, disciplined b y a hard and
bitter peace .. .... Flornentyna's eyes never once left the man in whom
so many people had placed their trust.  "Ask not what your country can
do for you; ask what you can do for your country .. .... When President
Kennedy concluded his speech, Florentyna watched the crowd rise and
found herself joining in the applause.  She wondered how many people
were clapping in other homes throughout America  She turned to
Richard.

"Not bad for a Democrat," he said, aware he was also clapping.

Florentyna smiled.  "Do you think my father is there?"

"Undoubtedly."

"So now we sit and wait for the appointment,"

George wrote the next day to confirm that Abel had been in Washington
for the celebrations.  He ended on the words: "Your father seems
confident about going to Warsaw, and I am equally sure that if he's
offered the position, it will be easier to get him to meet Richard,"

"What a friend George has turned out to be," said Florentyna.

"To Abc!  as well as to us," said Richard thoughtfully.

Each day Florentyna checked the new appointments as they were released
by

Pierre Salinger, the White House press secretary, but no announcement
concerning the Polish ambassador was forthcoming.

WHEN FLORENTYNA DID SEE HER FATHER'S NAME in the paper, she could
hardly miss it: the banner headline was all across the front page:

THE CHICAGO BARON ARRESTED

Florentyna read the story in disbelief.

NEW YORK-Abel Rosnovski, the international hotelier known as the
Chicago

Baron, was arrested at 8:30 this morning at an apartment on East

Fifty-seventh Street by agents of the FBI.  The arrest took place after
his return the previous night from a business trip to Turkey, where he
had opened the Istanbul Baron, the latest in his chain of hotels.

Rosnovski was charged by the FBI with bribery and corruption of
government officials in fourteen different states.  The FBI also wants
to question ex-Congressman Henry Osborne, who has not been seen in

Chicago for the past two weeks.

Rosnovski's defense attorney, H. Trafford Jilks, made a statement
denying the charges and added that his client had a full explanation
which would exonerate him completely.  Rosnovski was granted bail in
his own recognizance of $10,000.

The news story went on to report that rumors had been circulating in

Washington for some time th att the White House had been considering
Mr.

Rosnovski for the post of the next U.S. ambassador to Poland.

That night Florentyna lay awake wondering how it could have all
happened and what her father must be going through.  She assumed Henry
was involved in some way and determined to follow every scrap of
information that was reported in the papers.  Richard tried to comfort
her by saying there were very few businessmen alive who had not at some
stage in their careers been involved in a little bribery.

Three days before the trial was due to begin, the Justice Department
found

Henry Osborne in New Orleans.  He was arrested, charged and immediately
turned State's evidence.  The FBI asked Judge Prescott for a
postponement to discuss with ex-Congressman Osborne the contents of a
dossier on Rosnovski that had recently come into their possession.
Judge Prescott granted the

FBI a further four weeks to prepare their case.

The press soon discovered that Osborne, in order to clear his
considerable debts, had originally sold the file that he had compiled
over ten years while serving as a director of the Baron Group to a firm
of private investigators in Chicago.  How the file had then come into
the hands of the

FBI remained a mystery.

Florentyna was fearful that with Henry Osborne as star witness for the
prosecution her father might have to serve a long jail sentence.  After
another sleepless night, Richard suggested she ought to contact her
father.

She concurred and wrote him a letter assuring him of her support and
her belief in his innocence.  She was about to lick the envelope when
she walked over to her dCsk, took out her favorite picture of her son
and sent it to his grandfather.

Four hours before the trial was due to begin, Henry Osborne was found
hanging in his cell by a guard bringing in his breakfast.  He had used
a

Harvard tie.

"Why did Henry commit suicide?"  Florentyna.  asked her mother on the
phone later that morning.

"Oh, that's easy to explain," replied Zaphia.  "Henry thought the
private investigator who cleared his debts wanted the file for the sole
purpose of blackmailing your father."

"And what was the Teal reason?"  asked Florentyna.

"The file had been purchased anonymously in Chicago on behalf of
William

Kane, who then passed it on to the FBI."

Florentyna felt such hatred whenever she thought about William Kane,
she couldn't stop herself from taking it out on

Richard.  But it was obvious that Richard was every bit as angry about
his father's behavior, which Florentyna discovered when she overheard a
phone conversation between him and his mother.

"That was pretty tough," said Florentyna when he finally put the phone
down.

"Yes, it was.  My poor mother's getting it from both sides."

"We haven't reached the last act of this tragedy," said Florentyna.
"Papa has wanted to return to Warsaw for as long as I can remember. Now
he will never forgive your father."

Once the trial began, Florentyna followed the proceedings each day by
phoning her mother in the evening after Zaphia had returned from the
courtroom.  When she listened to her mother's view on the day's
happenings she wasn't always convinced they both wanted the same
outcome.

"The trial is beginning to go in your father's favor," she said in the
middle of the second week.

"How can you be so sure?"  asked Florentyna.

"Since the FBI has lost its star witness, their case hasn't stood up to
much cross-examination.  H. Trafford Jilks is making Henry Osborne
sound like Pinocchio with a nose that was four feet long."

"Does that mean Papa will be proved innocent?"

"I wouldn't think so.  But the courtroom officials are predicting that
the

FBI will have to make a deal."

"What sort of deal?"

"Well, if your father pleads guilty to some minor offenses, they will
drop the main charges."

"Will he get away with a fine?"  asked Florentyna anxiously.

"If he's lucky.  But Judge Prescott is tough, so he may still end up in
jail."

"Let's hope it's just a fine."

Zaphia made no comment.

"Six-month suspended sentence for the Chicago Baron,

Flornentyna heard the newscaster say on her car radio as she was driving
to pick up Richard from the bank.  She nearly collided with the Buick
in front of her and pulled over into a "No Parking" zone so that she
could concentrate on what the newscaster had to say.

"The FBI has dropped all the main indictments of bribery against Abel

Rosnovski-known as the Chicago Baron-and the defendant pleaded guilty
to misdemeanors on two minor counts of attempting to influence a public
official improperly.  The jury was dismissed.  In his summing up Judge
Prescott said: "The right to do business does not include the right to
suborn public officials.  Bribery is a crime and a worse crime when
condoned by an intelligent and competent man, who should not need to
stoop to such levels.  ""In other countries," the judge added, 'bribery
might be an accepted way of life, but that is not the case in the
United States."  Judge Prescott gave Rosnovski a six-month suspended
sentence and a twenty-five-thousand-dollar fine.

"In other news, President Kennedy .. ."

Florentyna turned olf the radio and heard someone tapping on the side

Aindow.  She wound it down.

"Do you know you're in a restricted area, ma'am?"  Yes," replied
Florentyna.  -I'm afraid it's going to cost you ten dollars."

"Twenty-five thousand dollars and a six-month suspended sentence.  It
could have been worse," said George in the car on the way back to the
Baron.

"Don't for get that I lost Poland," said Abel, "but that's all history
now.

Purchase those two percent of Lester's shares we need from Parfitt even
if it costs a million.  That will make up the eight percent of Lester's
that I need to invoke Article Seven of their bylaws and then I can
slaughter

William Kane in his own boardroom."

George nodded sadly.

A few da~s later the State Department announced that the next American
ambassador to Warsaw would be John Moors Cabot.

THE MORNING AFFER Judge Prescott had given his verdict on Florentyna's
father, the second event occurred.  The extension of the apartment
phone rang in the shop and because Nancy was removing the summer
clothes from the window, replacing them with the new autumn collection,
Florentyna answered it.

"Oh, I wondered if Mr.  Kane was in," said a lady's voice.  She sounded
a long way off.

"No, I'm sorry, he has already left for work.  Would you like to leave
a message?  It's Florentyna Kane speaking."

There was no immediate reply and then the voice said: "It's Katherine
Kane.

Please don't hang up."

"Why should I do that, Mrs.  Kane?"  said Florentyna, her knees feeling
so weak that she sank into a chair beside the phone.

"Because you must hate me, my dear, and I can't blame you," Richard's
mother said quickly.

"No, of course I don't hate you.  Would you like Richard to call you
back when he comes home?"

"Oh, no.  My husband doesn't realize that I'm in touch with him.  He
would be very angry if he ever found out.  No, what I was really hoping
for will finally depend on you."

"On me?"

"Yes.  I desperately want to visit you and Richard and see my
grandson-if you'll allow me."

"I'd like that very much, Mrs.  Kane."  said Florentyna, not sure how
she could sound more welcoming.

"Oh, how considerate of you.  My husband is going to a conference in
Mexico in three weeks' time, and I could fly out on a Friday Only I
would have to be back first thing on Monday morning."

When Richard heard the news he went straight to the re

ftigerator.  Florentyna followed, bewildered.  She smiled as he slipped
the gold foil from Claude's bottle of Krug and began pouring.

Three weeks later Florentyna accompanied Richard to the airport to
welcome his mother.

"But you're beautiful!"  were Florentyna's first wQrds as she greeted
the elegant, slender lady who showed not the slightest sign of having
spent the last six hours on a plane.  "And you make me feel terribly
pregnant."

"What were you expecting, my dear?  An ogre with red horns and a long
black tail?"

Flornentyna laughed as Katherine Kane put an arm through hers and they
walked off together, temporarily forgetting her son.

Richard was relieved to see how quickly the two of them became
friends.

When they arrived back at the apartment, Katherine reacted in the
time-honored way when she set eyes on her first grandchild.  I do wish
your father could see his grandson," she said.  "But I fear it's now
reached a stage where he won't even allow the subject to be
discussed."

"Do you know any more than we do about what is happening between the
two men?"  asked Richard.

"I wouldn't have thought so.  Your father refused to let the bank
support

Davis Leroy when his hotel group collapsed and Florentyna's father
therefore blames my husband for the subsequent suicidu of Mr.  Leroy.
The whole unfortunate episode might have ended there if Henry Osborne
hadn't come on to the scene."  She sighed.  "I pray to God the problem
will be soiled out in my lifetime."

"I fear one of them will have to die before the other comes to his
senses," said Richard.  "They are both so confoundedly obstinate."

The four of them had a wonderful weekend together even if Kate's
grandson did spend most of his time throwing his toys onto the floor.
When they drove Katherine back to the airport on Sunday night, she
agreed to come and see them the next time her husband was away on
business.  Katherine's last words to Florentyna were "If only you and
my husband could meet, he would realize immediately why Richard fell in
love with

YOU."

As she turn cd to wave goodbye, her grandson repeated his one-word
vocabulary: "Dada."  Katherine Kane laughed.  "What chauvinistk men
are.  That was also Richard's first word.  Has anyone ever told you
what yours was, Florentyna?"

Annabel came screaming into this world a few weeks later, and her
parents held a double celebration at the end of the year when
Florentyna's delivered a profit of $19,174.  Richard decided to mark
the occasion by spending a small part of the profits on a dual golf
membership at the

Olympic Club.

Richard was given more responsibility in the overseas department of the
bank and started returning home an hour later.  Florentyna decided the
time had come to employ a full-time nanny so that she could concentrate
on her work in the stores.  She realized she would never find a Miss

Tredgold, but Bella recommended a black girl named Carol who had
graduated from high school the year before and was finding it hard to
get a job.  Their son threw his arms around Carol the moment he met
her.  It brought home to Flornentyna that prejudice was something a child
only learns from its elders.

"I CAN'l BELIEVE IT," said Florentyna.  "I never thought it would
happen.

What wonderful news.  But what made him change his mind?"

"He's not getting any younger," said Katherine Kane, her voice
crackling over the phone, "and he's frightened that if he and Richard
don't patch up their differences soon, he will retire from Lester's
without a son on the board.  He also believes that the man most likely
to succeed him in the chair is Jake Thomas.  Mr.  Thomas is only two
years older than Richard and he certainly won't want a younger
man-especially a Kane-in the boardroom.  "

"I wish Richard were at home so I could tell him the news.  But since
he's been promoted to head of the overseas department, he rarely gets
back before seven.  He'll be so pleased.  I'll try not to show how
nervous I am about meeting your husband," said Florentyna.

"Not half as nervous as he is about meeting you.  But have no fears, my
dear, he's preparing the fatted calf for his prodigal son.  Have you
heard anything from your father since I last spoke to you?"

"No, nothing.  I fear there's never going to be a fatted calf for the
prodigal daughter."

"Don't give up; something may yet arise to make him see the light.
We'll put our heads together when you come to New York."

"I would love to believe it was still possible for Papa and Mr.  Kane
to be reconciled, but I've almost given up hope."

"Well, let's be thankful that one father has at least come to his
senses," said Katherine.  "I'll fly out to see you and fix up all the
details."

"How soon can you comc9"

"I could get away this weekend."

When Ri(hard came home that evening he was overjoyed by the news and
once he had finished reading the next chapter of Winnie the Pooh to his
son, he settled down to listen to the details of his mother's news.

"We could go to New York around November," said Richard.

"I'm not sure I can wait that long."

"You've waited for over six years."

"Yes, but that's different."

"You always want everything to have happened yesterday, Jessie.  That
reminds me, I read your proposal for the new store in San Diego."

"And?"

"Basically the idea makes a lot of sense and I approve."

"Good heavens.  What next?  I never thought I would hear such words
from you, Mr.  Kane."

"Now hold on, Jessie.  It doesn't get my wholehearted support because
the one part of your expansion program I don't understand is the
necessity to employ your own designer."

"That's easy enough to explain," said Florentyna.  "Although we now
have five shops, my expenditure on buying clothes remains as high as
forty percent of turnover.  If my own models were designed for me, I
would have two obvious advantages.  First, I could cut down my
immediate expenditure, and second, we would be continually advertising
our own product."  "it also has a major disadvantage," suggested
Richard.

"What's that?"

"There can be no rebate on clothes returned within ninety days if we
already own them."

"Agreed," said Florentyna.  "But the more we expand, the more that
problem will diminish.  And if I choose the right designer we'll end up
with our trademark clothes also being sold by our rivals."

"Has that proved worthwhile for other designers?"

"In the case of Pierre Cardin, the designer became more famous than the
stores."

"Finding such a man won't be easy."

"Didn't I find you, Mr.  Kane?"

"No, Jessie, I found you."

Florentyna smiled.  "Two children, a sixth shop, and you're going to be
invited to join the board of Lester's.  Most important of all, I have a
chance to meet your father.  What more could we want?"

"It hasn't happened yet."

"Typical banker.  Whatever the forecast, you expect it to rain by
midafternoon."

Annabel started to cry.

"See what I mean?"  said Richard.  "Your daughter's at it again."

"Why is it always my daughter who is bad and your son who is good?"

Despite Florentyna's desire to travel to New York immediately after
Kate had returned to the East Coast, she was more than fully occupied
with opening the new shop in San Diego, keeping an eye on the other
five stores, and somehow looking for the right designer-while still
trying to be a mother.  As the day for their journey to New York grew
nearer, she became more and more nervous.  She selected her own
wardrobe carefully and bought several new outfits for the children. She
even purchased a new shirt with a thin red stripe running through it
for Richard, but she doubted that he would wear it except on weekends. 
Florentyna lay awake each night anxious that Richard's father might not
approve of her, but Richard kept reminding her of Katherine's words:
not half as nervous as he is."

To celebrate the opening of the sixth store and the imminent
reconciliation with his father, Richard took Florentyna to a
performance of The Nutcracker by the Italian State Ballet Company at
the War Memorial Opera House.

Richard didn't care much for the ballet himself, but he was surprised
to find Florentyna equally restless during the performance.  As soon as
the house lights went up for the intermission he asked if anything was
wrong.

"Yes.  I've been waiting almost an hour to find out who designed those
fabulous costumes."  Florentyna started to thumb through her program.

"I would have described them as outrageous," said Richard.

"That's because you're color-blind," said Florentyna.  Having found
what she was looking for, she started reading the program notes to
Richard.  "His name is Gianni di Ferranti and his biographical sketch
says he was born in

Milan in 1931 and is on his fri st tour with the ballet company since
leaving the Institute of

Modern Art in Florence.  I wonder if he would consider resigning from
the company and working for me."

"I wouldn't, with the inside information I have on the company," said

Richard helpfully.

"Perhaps he's more adventurous than you, darting."

"Or just mad.  After all, he is Italian."

"Well, there's only one way to find out," said Florentyna, standing
up.

"And how do you propose doing that?"

"By going backstage."

"But you'll miss the second half."

"he second half might not change my whole life," said Florentyna,
stepping into the aisle.

Richard followed her out of the theater and they made their way around
the outside of the building in silence until they reached the stage
door.  A young security guard pushed open his window.

"Can I help you?"  he asked, sounding as if it was the last thing he
wanted to do.

"Yes," Florentyna said.  "I have an appointment with Gianni di
Ferranti."

She sounded very self-assured.

Richard looked at his wife disapprovingly.

"Your name, please," said the guard, picking up a phone.

"Florentyna Kane."

The guard repeated the name into the mouthpiece, listened for a moment,
then replaced the receiver.

"He says he's never heard of you."

Florentyna was taken aback for a moment, but Richard took out his
wallet and placed a twenty-dollar bill on the ledge in front of the
guard.

"Perhaps he has heard of me," said Richard.

"You better go and find out," said the guard, casually removing the
hill.

"Through the door take the corridor to your right.  Second floor on the
left," he added before slamming down the window.

Richard led Florentyna to the stairs.

"Most businessmen are involved in a little bribery at some stage in
their careers," she teased.

"Now, don't get annoyed just because your lie failed," said Richard,
grinning.

When they reached the room, Flornentyna knocked firmly and put her head
around the half-opened door.

A tall, dark-haired Italian was seated in one corner of the room eating
spaghetti.  Florentyna's first reaction was one of admiration.  He was
wearing a pair of tailored jeans and blue blazer over a casual
open-necked shirt.  But the thing that struck her most was the young
man's long, artistic fingers.  The moment he saw Florentyna he rose
gracefully to his feet.

"Gianni," she began expansively.  "What a privilege-"

"No," said the man in a soft Italian accent.  "He's in the washroom.
"

Richard smirked and received a sharp kick on the ankle.  Fiorentyna was
about to speak again when the door opened and in walked a man no more
than five feet five who was nearly bald, although Florentyna knew from
the program notes that he was not yet thirty.  His clothes were
beautifully cut, but the spaghetti had had a greater effect on his
waistline than on his friend's.

"Who are these people, Valario?"

"Mrs.  Florentyna Kane," said Florentyna before the young man could
speak.

"And this is my husband, Richard."

"What do you want?"  he asked, not looking at her while taking the seat
opposite his companion.

"To offer you a job as my designer."

"Not another one," he said, throwing his hands in the air.

Florentyna took a deep breath.  "Who else has spoken to you?"  "in New
York, Yves Saint-Laurent.  In Los Angeles, Pierre Cardin.  As well as
countless others in London, Paris and Rome.  Need I go on?"

"But did they offer you a percentage of the profits?"

What profits?  Richard wanted to ask, but remembered the kick on the
ankle.

"I already have six shops and we have plans for another six in the
pipeline," Florentyna continued impulsively.  She hoped that Gianni
di

Ferranti hadn't noticed her husband's eyebrows rising dramatically at
her words.

"The turnover could be millions within a few years," she said.

"Saint- Lit u rent's turnover already is," said di Ferranti, still not
turning to face her.

"Yes, but what did they offer you?"

"Twenty- five thousand dollars a year and one percent of the profits.
"

"I'll offer you twenty and five percent."

The Italian waved a dismissive hand.

"Twenty-five thousand dollars and ten percent?"  she said.

The Italian laughed, rose from his chair and opened the door for

Florentyna and Richard to leave.  She stood firm.

"You are the sort of person that would expect Zeffirefli to be
available to design your next shop while still hoping to retain Luigi
Ferpozzi as honorary advisor.  Not that I could expect you to
understand what I'm talking about," he added.

"Luigi," said Florentyna haughtily, "is a dear friend of mine."

The Italian placed his hands on his hips and roared with laughter.
"You

Americans are all the same.  Next you'll be saying you designed the
Pope's vestments."

Richard had some sympathy with him.

"Your blUff is called, Signora.  Ferpozzi came to see the show in Los

Angeles only last week and spoke to me at length about my work.  Now at
least I have found a way to be rid of you."  Di Ferranti left the door
open and picked up the phone on his dresser and without another word
dialed a 213 number.  No one spoke while he waited for the call to be
answered.  Eventually Florentyna heard a voice from the other end of
the line.

"Luigi?"  said di Ferranti.  "It's Gianni.  I have an American lady
with me called Mrs.  Kane who claims she is a friend of yours."

He listened for a few moments, his smile becoming broader.

"He says he doesn't know anyone called Mrs.  Kane and perhaps you would
feel more at home on Alcatraz?"

"No, I Wouldn't," said Florentyna.  "But tell him he thinks my father
built it."

Gianni di Ferranti repeated Florentyna's sentiments over the phone.  As
h,~ listened to the reply his face became puzzled.  He finally looked
back at her.  "Luigi says to offer you a cup of tea.  But only if
you've brought your own pot .

It took Florentyna two lunches, one dinner with Richard, one with her
bankers, and a big enough advance to move Gianni and his friend Vaiario
from Milan to a new home in San Francisco to persuade the little
Italian to join her as the company's new in-house designer.  Florentyna
was confident that this was the breakthrough she had been looking for.
In the excitement of negotiating with Gianni she quite forgot they were
only six days away from going to New York to meet Richard's father.

Florentyna and Richard were having breakfast that Monday morning when
his face turned so white that she thought he was going to faint.

"What's the matter, darling?"

He pointed to the front page of The Wall Street Journal as if unable to
speak.  Florentyna read the bald announcement and silently handed the
paper back to her husband.  He read the statement slowly for a second
time to be certain he understood the full implications.  The brevity
and force of the words were stunning: "William Lowell Kane, the
president and chairman of

Lester's Bank, resigned after Friday's board meeting."

Richard knew that Wall Street would put the worst interpretation
possible on such a sudden departure, made without explanation or any
suggestion of illness, especially as his only son, a banker, had not
been invited to take his place on the board.  He put his arms around
Florentyna and held her close to his chest.

"Does it mean our trip to New York will be canceled?"

"Not unless your father was the cause."

"It can't happen-I won't let it happen.  Not after waiting so long."

The phone rang and Richard leaned over to answer it, not letting go
of

Florentyna.

"Hello?"

"Richard, it's Mother.  I've been trying to get away from the house.
Have you heard the news?"

"Yes, I've just read it in The Wall Street Journal.  What in heaven's
name made Father resign?"

"I'm not certain of all the details myself, but as far as I can gather,
Mr.

Rosnovski has held six percent of the bank's shares for the past ten
years, and for some reason he only needed eight percent to be able to
remove your father from the chair."

"To invoke Article Seven," said Richard.

"Yes, that's right.  But I'm still not sure what that means."

"Well, Father had the clause put into the bank's bylaws to protect
himself from ever being taken over.  He considered the clause was
foolproof because only someone in possession of eight percent or more
could challenge his authority.  He never imagined anyone other than the
family could ever get their hands on such a large stake in the company.
Father would never have given up his fifty-one percent of Kane and
Cabot to become chairman of

Lester's if he had felt an outsider could remove him."

"But that still doesn't explain why he had to resign."

"I suppose Florentyna's father somehow got hold of another two
percent.

That would have given him the same powers as Father and made life at
the bank impossible for him as chairman.  11

"But how could he make life impossible?"  It was now obvious to Richard
that his father had not even confided in Kate concerning what was
happening at the bank.

"Among the safeguards that Article Seven stipulates, if I remember
correctly," Richard continued, "is that anyone in possession of eight
percent of the shares can hold up any transaction the hftnk is involved
in for ninety days.  I know from the bank's audit that Mr.  Rosnovski
held six percent.  I suppose he obtained the other two percent from
Peter Parfitt."

"No, he didn't get the shares from Parfitt," said Kate.  "I know your
father managed to secure those shares by getting an old friend to
purchase them for considerably more than they are worth, which is why
he felt so relaxed lately and confident about the future."

"Then the real mystery is how Mr.  Rosnovski got hold of the other to
percent.  I know no one on the board who would have parted with their
own shares unless

"Your three minutes are up, ma'am."

"Where are you, Mother?"

"I'm in a pay phone.  Your father has forbidden any of us to contact
you ever again and he never wants to set eyes on Florentyna "

"But this has nothing to do with her, she's-"

"I'm sorry, ma'am, but your three minutes are up."

"I'll pay for the call, operator."

"I'm sorry, sir, but the call has been disconnected."

Richard replaced the phone reluctantly.

Florentvyia looked up.  "Can you forgive me, darling, for having a
father who was involved in such a terrible thing?  I know I will never
forgive him."

"Never prejudge anyone, Jessie," said Richard as he stroked her hair.
"I suspect that if we ever discover the truth we shall find that the
blame is fairly evenly distributed on both sides.  Now, young lady, you
have two children and six stores to worry about and I, no doubt, have
irate customers waiting for me at the bank.  Put this whole incident
behind you because I am convinced that the worst is now over."

Florentyna continued to cling to her husband, thankful for the strength
of his words, even if she did not believe them.

Abel read the announcement of William Kane's resignation in The Wall
Street

Journal the same day.  He picked up the phone, dialed Lester's Bank and
asked to speak to the new chairman.  A few seconds later Jake Thomas
came on the line.  "Good morning,

Mr.  Rosnovski."

"Good morning, Mr.  Thomas.  I'm just phoning to confirm that I shall
release this morning my eight percent holding in Lester's to you
personally for two million dollars."

"Thank you, Mr.  Rosnovski, that's most generous of you."

"No need to thank me, Mr.  Chairman; it's no more than we agreed on
when you sold me your two percent."

Florentyna realized that it would take a considerable time to recover
from the blow inflicted by her father.  She wondered how it was still
possible to love him and to hate him at the same time.  She tried to
concentrate on her fast-growing empire and to put the thought of never
seeing her father again out of her mind.

Another blow, not as personal, but every bit as tragic for Florentyna,
was delivered on November 22, 1963.  Richard called her from the bank,
something he had never done before, to tell her that President Kennedy
had been shot in Dallas.

FLORENTYNA'S NEWLY ACQUIRED ITALIAN DESIGNER, Gianni di Ferranti, had
come up with the idea of putting a small entwined double F on the
collar or hem of all his garments.  It looked most impressive and only
enhanced the company's reputation.  Although Gianni was the first to
admit that it was nothing more than a copy of an idea that Yves
Saint-Laurent had used, nevertheless it worked.

Florentyna found time to fly to Los Angeles to look over a property
that was up for sale on Rodeo Drive in Beverly Hills.  Once she had
seen it, she told Richard she had plans for a seventh Florentyna's.  He
said he would need to study the figures carefully before he could
advise her if she should take up the lease that was offered, but he was
under such pressure at the bank that it might have to wait a few
days.

Not for the first time Florentyna felt the need of a partner or at
least a financial director, now that Richard was so overworked.  She
would have liked to ask him to join her, but she felt diffident about
suggesting it.

"You'll have to put an advertisement in the Chronicle and see how many
replies you get," said Richard.  "I'll help you screen them and we can
interview the short list together."

Florentyna followed Richard's instructions and within days the letters
flooded in from bankers, lawyers and accountants, all of whom showed
considerable interest in the appointment.  Richard helped Florentyna
sift through the replies.  Halfway through the evening he paused over a
particular letter and said: "I'm crazy."

"I know, my darling, that's why I married you."

"We've wasted four hundred dollars."

"Why?  You felt sure the advertisement would turn out to be an
investment."

Richard handed her the letter he had been reading.

"Seems ken qualified," said Florentyna, after she had read it
through.

"And since he's at the Bank of America, you must have your own opinion
as to whether he's suitable to be my financial director."

"Undoubtedly.  But who do you imagine will fill his position if he
leaves the bank to join you?"

"I've no idea."

"Well, since he's my immediate superior, it might be me," said
Richard.

Florentyna burst out laughing.  "And to think I didn't have the
courage to ask you.  Still, I consider it four hundred dollars well
spent-partner."

Richard Kane left the Bank of America four weeks later and joined his
wife as a 50 percent partner and the financial director of Florentyna

Inc.  of San Francisco, Los Angeles and San Diego.

Another election went by.  Florentyna didn't become involved because
she was so over-worked with her expanding empire.  She admitted to
Richard that she couldn't trust Johnson and despised Goldwater. Richard
put a bumper sticker on their car, and Florentyna immediately tore it
off:

They agreed not to discuss the subject again, although Florentyna did
gloat over the Democratic landslide that followed in November.

During the next year, only their two children grew more quickly than
the company, and on their son's fifth birthday they opened two more

Florentyna's: in Chicago and Boston.  Richard remained cautious about
the speed at which the shops were springing up, but Florentyna's pace
never faltered.  With so many new customers wanting to wear Gianni di
Ferranti's clothes, she spent most of her spare time combing cities for
prime sites.

By 1966 there was only one important city that did not boast a

Florentyna's.  She realized it might be years before a site fell vacant
on the only avenue fit for the Florentyna's of New York.

"YOU'RE A STUBBORN OLD FOOL, ABEL."

"I know, but I can't turn the clock back now."

"Well, I can tell you, nothing's going to stop me from accepting the
invitation."

Abel looked up from his bed.  He had hardly left the penthouse since
his bout with pneumonia six months before.  After he had returned from
an extensive trip to Poland, George was almost his only contact with
the outside world.  Abel knew that his oldest friend was right and he
had to admit that it was tempting.  He wondered if Kane would be going.
He found himself hoping so, but he doubted it.  The man was every bit
as stubborn as he was..  ..

George voiced Abel's thoughts: I bet William Kane will be there.

Abel made no comment.  "Do you have the final rundown on Warsaw?"

"Yes," George said sharply, angry that Abel had changed the subject.
"All the agreements are signed and John Gronowski couldn't have been
more cooperative."

John Gronowski.  The first Polish ambassador to Warsaw, reflected Abel.
He would never recover from .  * '

"Your trip to Poland last year has achieved everything you could have
hoped for.  You will live to open the Warsaw Baron."

I always wanted Florentyna to open it," said Abel quietly.

"Then invite her, but don't expect any sympathy from me.  All you have
to do is acknowledge Richard's existence.  And even you must have woken
up to the fact that their marriage is a success-otherwise that wouldn't
be on the mantelpiece."  George pointed to the unanswered invitation.

Everyone in New York seemed to be there when, on March 4, 1967.
Flonmtyna

Kane opened her new boutique, on Fifth Avenue.  Florcntyna, wearing a
green dress that had been specially designed for her with the now
famous double

F on the high collar, stood near the entrance of the shop greeting her
guests and offering them a glass of champagne.  Katherine Kane,
accompanied by her daughter Lucy, was among the first to arrive, and
vtry quickly the floor was crowded with people whom Florentyna either
knew very well or had never seen before.  George Novak arrived a little
later and delighted Florentyna by his first request-to be introduced to
the Kanes.

"Will Mr.  Rosnovski be coming later?"  Lucy asked innocently.

"I'm afraid not," said George.  A told him that he was a stubborn old
fool to miss such a good party.  Is Mr.  Kane here?"

"No, he's not been well lately and rarely leaves the house nowadays,"
said

Kate, and she then confided to George a piece of news that delighted
him.

"How is my father?"  Florentyna whispered into George's ear.

"Not well.  I left him in bed in the penthouse.  Perhaps when he hears
that tonight you're going to .. ."

"Perhaps," said Florentyna.  She then took Kate by the arm and
introduced her to Zaphia.  For a moment, neither of the two ladies
9poke.  Then Zaphia said, "It's wonderful to meet you at last.  Is your
husband with you?"

The room became so crowded that it was almost impossible to move, anti
the ringing laughter and chatter left Florentyna in no doubt that the
opening was going extremely well.  But now she had only one thing on
her mind: dinner that evening.

Outside, a large crowd' had gathered on the corner of Fiftysixth Street
to stare at what was going on and the traffic on Fifth Avenue had
nearly come to a standstill as men and women, young and old, peered
through the large plate-glass windows.

A man stood in a doorway across the street, watching.  He Wore a black
coat, a scarf around his neck and a hat pulled well down on his head.
It was a cold evening and the wind was whistling down Fifth Avenue. Not
a day for old men, he thought, and wondered if after all it had been
wise to leave the warmth of his bed.  But he was determined that
nothing would prevent his witnessing the opening of this store.  He
fiddled with the silver band around his wrist and remembered the new
will he had made, not leaving the heirloom to his daughter as he had
originally promised.

He smiled as he watched young people surge in and out of the splendid
store.  Through the window he could just make out his ex-wife talking
to

George, and then he saw Florentyna, and a tear trickled down his lined
cheek.  She was even more beautiful than he remembered her.  He wanted
to cross the street that separated them and say, "George was right,
I've been a stubborn old fool for far too long.  Can you possibly
forgive me?"  but instead he just stood and stared, his feet remaining
fixed to the ground.  He saw a young man by his daughter's side, tall,
self-assured and aristocratic-he could only be the son of William Kane.
A fine man,

George had told him.  How had he described him'?  Florentyna's
strength.

Abel wondered if Richard hated him and feared that he must.  The old
man pushed up his collar, took one last look at his beloved daughter
and turned to retrace his steps to the Baron.

As he walked away from the store he saw another man heading slowly
along the sidewalk.  He was taller than Abel, but his walk was just as
unsteady.

Their eyes met, but only for a moment, and as they passed each other
the taller of the old men raised his hat.  Abel returned the compliment
and they continued on their separate ways without a word.

"Thank heavens, the last one has gone," said Florentyna.And only just
enough time for a bath before changing for dinner."

Katherine Kane kissed her and said, "Goodbye for an hour."

Florentyna locked the front door of the store and, holding her
children's hands tightly, she walked with them uptown.  It would be the
first time since her childhood that she had stayed in a hotel in New
York other than the Baron.

"Another day of triumph for you, my darling," said Richard.

"To be followed by a night?"

"Oh, stop fussing, Jessie.  Father will adore you."

"It's been such a long time, Richard."

Richard followed her through the front door of the Pierre, then caught
up with his wife and put his arm around her.  "Eleven wasted years, but
now we have the chance to make up for the past."  Richard guided his
family toward the elevators.

"I'll make sure the children are washed and dressed while you have your
bath."

Florentyna lay in the bath, wondering how the evening would turn out.

Froi n the moment Kate Kane had told her of Richard's father's desire
to see them all, she had feared he would change his mind once again,
but now the meeting was only an hour away.  She wondered it' Richard
was having the same misgivings.  She stepped out of the bath, dried
herself before dabbing on a hint of Joy, her favorite scent, and a long
blue dress specially chosen for the occasion: Kate had told her that
her husband's favorite color was blue.  She hunted through her jewelry
for something simple and slipped on the antique ring given to her so
long ago by her father's backer.  When she was fully dressed she stared
at herself critically in the mirror: thirty three no lo tiger young
enough to wear mini skirts nor old enough to be elegant.

Richard came in from the adjoining room.  "You look stunning," he
said.

"The old man will fall in love with you on sight."  Florentyna smiled
and brushed the children's hair while Richard changed.  Their son, now
seven, was wearing his first suit and looked quite grown-up; Annabel
had on a red dress with a white ribbon around the hem: she had no
problem with the latest mini fashion.

I think we're all ready," said Florentyna when Richard reappeared.  She
couldn't believe her eyes: he was wearing a shirt with a thin red
stripe running through it.

The chauffeur opened the door of their hired Lincoln, and Florentyna
followed her children into the back.  Richard took a place in the
front.

As the car drove slowly through the crowded New York streets Florentyna
sat in silence.  Richard leaned over the back of his seat and touched
her hand.  The chauffeur came to a stop outside a small but elegant
brownstone on East Sixty-eighth Street.

"Now, children, remember, you must be on your best behavior," said

Florentyna.

"Yes, Mummy," they said in unison, unawed by the thought of at last
meeting one of their grandfathers.

Before they had even stepped out of the car the front door of the house
was opened by an elderly man in a cutaway who bowed slightly.

"Good evening, ma'am," he said.  "And how nice to see you again, Mr.

Richard."

Kate was waiting in the hall to greet them.  Florentyna's eyes were
immediately drawn to an oil painting of a beautiful woman who sat in a
crimson leather chair, hands resting in her lap.

"Richard's grandmother," said Kate.  "I never knew her, but it's easy
to ice why she was considered one of the beauties of her day."

Florentyna continued to stare.

"Is something wrong, my dear?"  Kate asked.

"The ring," she said, barely in a whisper.

"Yes, it's beautiful, isn't it?"  said Kate, holding up her hand to
display a diamond and sapphire ring.  "William gave it to me when he
asked me to be his wife."

"No, the other one in the portrait," said Florentyna.

"The antique one, yes, quite magnificent.  It had been in the family
for generations, but I fear it's been lost for some years.  When I
remarked on its disappearance to William he said he knew nothing of
it."

Florentyna raised her right hand and Kate stared down at the antique
ring in disbelief.  They all looked at the oil painting-there was
absolutely no doubt.

"It was a christening present," said Florentyna.  "Only I never knew
who gave it to me."

"Oh, my God," said Richard.  "It never crossed my mind-"

"And my father still doesn't know," said Florentyna.

A maid bustled into the hall.  "Excuse me, ma'am.  I've told Mr.  Kane
that everybody has arrived.  He asked if Richard and his wife would be
kind enough to go up on their own."

"You two go on up," said Kate.  "I'll join you in a few minutes with
the children."

Florentyna took her husband's arm and climbed the stairs, nervously
fingering the antique ring.  They entered the room to find William
Lowell

Kane sitting in the crimson leather chair by the fire.  Such a
fine-looking man, thought Flornentyna, realizing for the first time what
her husband would look like when he was old.

"Father," said Richard, "I would like you to meet my wife."

Florentyna stepped forward, to be greeted by a warm and gentle snWe
on

William Kane's face.

Richard waited for his father's response, but Florentyna knew that the
old man would never speak to her now.

ABEL Pl(--KFD UP THE PHONE by the side of his bed.  "Find George for
me.

I need to get dressed."  Abel read the letter again.  He couldn't
believe that William Kane had been his backer.

When George arrived, Abel didn't speak.  He just handed over the
letter.

George read it slowly.  "Oh, my God," he said.

I must attend the funeral."

George and Abel arrived at Trinity Church in Boston a few minutes after
the service had begun.  They remained behind the last row of respectful
mourners.  Richard and Florentyna stood on each side of Kate.  Three
senators, five congressmen, two bishops, most of the chairmen of the
leading banks and the publisher of The Wall Street Journal were all
there.  The chairman and every director of the Lester's board were also
present.

"Do you think they can forgive me?"  asked Abel.

George did not reply.

"Will you go and see them?"

"Yes, of course."

"Thank you, George.  I hope William Kane had a friend as good as
you."

Abel sat up in bed looking toward the door every few moments.  When it
eventually opened he hardly recognized.  the beautiful lady who had
once been his "little one."  He smiled defiantly as he stared over the
top of his half-moon spectacles.  George remained by the door as
Florentyna ran to the side of the bed and threw her arms around her
father-a long hug that couldn't make up for eleven wasted years, he
told her.

"So much to talk about," he continued.  "Chicago, Poland, politics, the
stores .. . But first, Richard.  Can he ever believe I didn't know
until yesterday that his father was my backer?"

"Yes, Papa, because he only discovered it himself a day before you. and
we are still not sure how you found out."  "A letter from the lawyers
of the First National Bank of Chicago who had been instructed not to
inform me until after his death.  Nkhat a fool I've been," Abel added. 
"Will Richard see me?"  he asked, his voice sounding very frail.

"He wants to meet you so much.  He and the children are waiting
downstairs."

"Send for them, send for them," Abel said, his voice rising.  George
smiled and disappeared.

"And do you still want to be President?"  Abel asked.

"Of the Baron Group?"

"No, of the United States.  Because if you do, I well remember my end
of the bargain.  If the result of the New Hampshire primary turns out
to be satisfactory .. ."

Florentyna smiled but made no comment.

A few moments later there was a knock at the door.  Abel tried to push
himself up as Richard came into the room, followed by the children. The
head of the Kane family walked for-ward and shook hands warmly with his
father-in-law.

"Good morning, sir," he said.  "It's an honor to meet you."

Abel couldn't get any words out, so Florentyna introduced him to
Annabel and his grandson.

"And what is your name?"  demanded the old man.

"William Abel Kane."

Abel gripped the boy's hand.  "I am proud to have my name linked with
that of your other grandfather.  You will never begin to know how sad I
am about your father," he said, turning to Richard.  "I never realized.
So many mistakes over so many years.  It didn't cross my mind, even for
a moment, that your father could have been my benefactor.  God knows, I
wish I could have been given one chance to thank him personally."

"He would have understood," said Richard.  "But there was a clause in
the deed of the family trust which didn't allow him to reveal his
identity because of the potential conflict between his professional and
private interests.  He would never have considered making an exception
to any rule.

That's why his customers trusted him with their life savings."

"Even if it resulted in his own death?"  asked Florentyna.

"I've been just as obdurate," said Abel.

"That's hindsight," said Richard.  "None of us could have known that
Henry

Osborne would cross our paths."

"Your father and I met, you know, the day he died," said Abel.

Florentyna and Richard stared at him in disbelief.

"Oh, yes," said Abel.  "We passed each other on Fifth Avenue-he had
come to watch the opening of your new store.  He raised his hat to me.
It was enough, quite enough."

Soon they were talking of happier days; both Abel and Florentyna
laughed a little and cried a lot.

"You must forgive us, Richard," said Abel.  "The Polish are a
sentimental race."

"I know," he replied.  "My children are half-Polish."

"Can you join me for dinner tonight?"

"Of course," said Richard.

"Have you ever experienced a real Polish feast, my boy?"

"Every Christmas for the past eleven years," Richard replied.

Abel laughed, then talked of the future and how he saw the progress of
his group.  "We ought to have one of your shops in every hotel," he
told

Florentyna.

She agreed.

Abel had only one other request of Florentyna: that she and Richard
would accompany him on his journey to Warsaw in nine months' time for
the opening of the latest Baron.  Richard assured him both of them
would be there.

During the following months, Abel was reunited with his daughter and
quickly grew to respect his son-in-law.  George had been right about
the boy all along.  Why had he been so stubborn?

He confided in Richard that he wanted her return to Poland to be one

Florentyna would never forget.  Abel had asked his daughter to open
the

Warsaw Baron, but she had insisted that only the president of the Group
could perform such a task, although she was anxious about her father's
health.

Every week Florentyna and her father would read together the progress
report that came from Warsaw on the new hotel.  As the time drew nearer
for the opening, the old man even practiced his speech in front of
her.

The whole family traveled to Warsaw together.  They inspected the
first

Western hotel to be built behind the Iron Curtain and were reassured
that it was everything Abel had promised.

The opening ceremony took place in the massive gardens in front of the
hotel.  The Polish Minister of Tourism made the opening speech
welcoming his guests.  He then called upon the president of the Baron

Group to say a few words before performing the opening ceremony.

Abel's speech was delivered exactly as he had written it and at its
conclusion the thousand guests on the lawn rose and cheered.

The Minister of Toitrism then handed a large pair of scissors to the
president of the Baron Group.  Florentyna cut the ribbon that ran
across the entrance of the hotel and said, I declare the Warsaw Baron
open."

Florentyr,a traveled to Slonim to scatter the ashes of her father in
his" birthplace before returning to America.  As she stood on the land
where her father had been born she vowed never to forget her origins.

Richard tried to comfort her; in the short time he had come to know his
father-in-law he had recognized the many qualities he had passed on to
his daughter.

Florentyi ia realized that she could never come to terms with their
short reconciliation.  She still had so much to tell her father and
even more to learn from him.  She continually thanked George for the
time they had been allowed to share as a family, knowing the loss was
every bit as deep for him.

The last Baron Rosnovski was left on his native soil while his only
child and oldest friend returned to America.

 THE PRESENT

1968-1982

FLORENTYNA KANE'S APPOINTMENT AS CHAIRMAN of the Baron Group was
confirmed at the board meeting the day she returned from Warsaw.
Richard's first piece of advice was that she transfer the head office
of Florentyna's from

San Francisco to New York.  A few days later the Kane family flew back
to stay in their little home on Nob Hill for the last time.  They spent
the next four weeks in California making the necessary arrangements for
their move, which included leaving the West Coast operation in the
competent hands of their senior manager and putting Nancy Ching in
overall charge of the two shops in San Francisco.  When it came to
saying goodbye to Bella and

Claude, Florentyna assured her closest friends that she would be flying
back to the Coast on a regular basis.

"Going as suddenly as you came," said Bella.

It was only the second time she had seen Bella cry.

Once they had settled down in New York, Richard recommended that
Florentyna make the shops a subsidiary of the Baron Group so that the
companies could be consolidated for tax purposes.  Florentyna agreed
and made George Novak president for life on his sixty-fifth birthday,
giving him a salary that even Abel would have considered generous.
Florentyna became chairman of the

Group and Richard its chief executive.

Richard found them a magnificent new home on East Sixtyfourth Street.
They decided to live on the forty-second floor of the New York Baron
while their new home was being decorated.  William was enrolled at the
fashionable

Buckley school like his father before him, while Annabel went to
Spence.

Carol thought perhaps the time had come to look for another job but
even at the mention of the subject, Annabel would burst into tears.

Florentyna spent every waking hour learning from George how the
Baron

Group was run.  At the end of her first year as chairman, George
Novak's private doubts about whether his girl would have the toughness
necessary to run such a huge empire were entirely allayed, especially
after her stand in the South on equal pay for Baron Group employees
whatever their color.

"She has inherited her father's genius," George told Richard.  "All she
lacks now is experience."

"Time will take care of that," Richard predicted.

Richard made a full report to the board on the state of the company
after

Florentyna's first year as chairman.  The Group declared a profit of
more than $27 million despite a heavy worldwide building schedule and
the drop in the value of the dollar against most trading currencies
caused by the escalating war in Vietnam.  Richard then presented his
ideas to the board for a comprehensive investment program for the
seventies.  He ended his report by recommending that this kind of
program he looked into by a bank.

"Agreed," said Florentyna, "but I still look upon you as a banker."

"Don't rcm and me," said Richard.  "But with the turnover we now
generate in more than fifty currencies and the fees we pay to the in
any financial institutions we employ, perhaps the time has come for us
to control our own bank."

"Isn't it nearly impossible nowadays to buy a bank outright?"  asked

Florentyna.  "And almost as hard to fulfill the government requirements
for a license to run one?"  " Yes it is, but we already own eight
percent of Lester's and we know what problems that created for my
father.  This time let's turn it to our advantage.  What I'd like to
recommend to the board is .. ."

The following day Richard wrote to Jake Thomas, the chairman of
Lester's, seeking a private interview.  The letter he received in reply
was guarded to the point of hostility.  Their secretaries agreed on a
time and place for the meeting.

When Richard entered the chairman's office, Jake Thomas rose from
behind his desk and ushered him into a seat before returning to the
leather chair that had been occupied by Richard's father for more than
twenty years.  The bookcases were not as full nor the flowers as fresh
as Richard remembered.

The chairman's greeting was formal and short, but Richard was not cowed
by Thomas's approach as he knew that he was bargaining from strength.
There was no small talk.

"Mr.  Thomas, I feel that as I hold eight percent of Lester's stock and
have now moved to New York, the time has come for me to take my
rightful place on the board of the bank."

It was obvious from Jake Thomas's first words that he had anticipated
what was on Richard's mind.  "I think in normal circumstances that
might have been a good idea, Mr.  Kane, but as the board has quite
recently filled its last place perhaps the alternative would be for you
to sell your stock in the bank."

It was exactly the answer Richard had expected.  "Under no
circumstances would I pan with my family shares, Mr.  Thomas.  My
father built this bank up to be one of the most respected financial
institutions in America, and I intend to be closely involved in its
future."

"That's a pity, Mr.  Kane, because I am sure you are aware that your
father did not leave the bank in the happiest of circumstances and I
feel certain we could have offered you a reasonable price for your
shares."

"Better than the price my father-in-law offered you for yours?"  said

Richard.

Jake Thomas's checks flushed brick-red.  "I see you have only come here
to be destructive," he said.

"I have often found in the past that construction must be preceded by a
little destruction, Mr.  Thomas."

"I don't think you hold enough cards to make this house tumble," the
chairman retorted.

"No one knows better than you that two percent may suffice," said
Richard.

"I can see no point in prolonging this conversation, Mr.  Kane."

"For the time being, I agree with you, but you can be sure that it will
be continued in the not too distant future," said Richard.

He rose to leave.  Jake Thomas did not accept his outstretched hand.

"If that's his attitude, we must declare war," said Florentyna.

"Brave words," said Richard, "but before we' make our next move I want
to consult my father's old lawyer, Thaddeus Cohen.  There's nothing he
doesn't know about Lester's.  Perhaps if we combine our ~knowledge we
can come up with something."

Florentyna agreed.  "George once told me something my father thought of
doing if he failed to remove your father even when he had eight
percent."

Richard listened intently as Florentyna outlined her plan.

"Do you think that might work in this case?"  she asked her husband.

"We just might pull it off, but it would be one hell of a risk."

"We have nothing to fear but fear itself," said Florentyna.

"Jessie, when will you learn that FDR was a politician, not a
banker."

Richard spent most of the next four days locked in consultation with

Thaddeus Cohen at the city office of Cohen, Cohen, Yablons and Cohen.

"The only person who now holds eight percent of Lester's stock is you,"
he assured Richard from behind his desk.  "Even Jake Thomas has only
two percent.  If your father had known that Thomas could only afford to
hold on to Abel Rosnovski's stock for a Jew days, he might well have
called his bluff and held on to the chair."

The old family lawyer leaned back, placing both hands on top of his
bald head.

"That piece of information will make victory even sweeter," said
Richard.

"Do you have the names of all the shareholders?"

"I'm still in possession of the names of the registered stockholders at
the time that your father was the bank's chief executive.  But by now
it may be so out-of-date as to be rendered virtually useless.
Nevertheless, as you well know, you are entitled under state law to
demand a formal inspection of the shareholders list."

"And I can imagine how long Thomas would take to release that.  "

"Around Christmas," said Thaddeus Cohen, allowing himself a thin
smile.

"What do you imagine would happen if I called an extraordinary meeting
and gave a full account of how Jake Thomas sold his own shares in order
to remove my father from the board?"

"You wouldn't gain a great deal from such an exercise apart from
embarrassing a few people.  Jake Thomas would see to it that the
meeting was held on an inconvenient day and badly attended.  He would
also undoubtedly obtain a fifty percent proxy vote against any
resolution you put forward.

Into the bargain I suspect Mr.  Thomas would use such a move by you to
rewash dirty linen in public, which would only add a further stain to
your father's reputation.  No, I think Mrs.  Kane has come up with the
best idea so far and, if I may be permitted to say so, it is typical of
her father's boldness in such matters .

"But if we should fail?"

"I am not a betting man, but I'd back a Kane and Rosnovski against
Jake

Thomas any day."

"If I agree, what would you consider to be the most propitious time to
launch the bid?"  asked Richard.

"April one," Thaddeus Cohen said unhesitatingly.

"Why that date in particular?"

"Because it's the right length of time before everyone has to file
their tax returns to be fairly certain that a number of people will be
in need of some spare cash."

Richard %Aent over the detailed plan with Thaddeus Cohen again and that
night he explained it in full to Florentyna.

"How MUch do we stand to lose if we fail?"  was her first question.

"Roughly?"

"Roughly "

"Thirty-seven million dollars."

"That's pretty rough," said Florentyna.

"We don't exactly lose the money, but all our capital will be locked up
in

Lester's stock and that would put a severe restriction on the cash flow
for the rest of the Group, if we didn't control the bank."

"What do,--s Mr.  Cohen think of our chances of pulling the coup
off?"

"Better than fifty-fifty.  My father would never have considered going
ahead with such odds," added Richard.

"But my tat her would have," said Florentyna.  "He always considered it
glass to be half full, never half empty."

"Thaddewi Cohen was right,"

"About what?"

"About you.  He warned me that if you were anything like your father,
prepare for battle."

During the next three months Richard spent most of his time with
accountants, lawyers and tax consultants, who had all the paperwork
completed for him by March 20.  That afternoon be booked space on every
major financial page in America for April I and informed the
advertising departments that the copy would arrive by hand twenty-four
hours prior to publication.  He couldn't help reflecting on the date
and wondered if it would be he or Jake Thomas who would end up the
fool.  During the final two weeks,

Richard and Thaddeus Cohen checked over the plan again and again to be
certain they hadn't overlooked anything and could be confident that the
details of "Operation Bust a Gut" remained known to only three
people.

On the morning of April 1, Richard sat in his office and studied the
full-page advertisement in The Wall Street Journal:

The Baron Group announces that it will offer fourteen dollars for
every

Lester's Bank share.  The current market value of Lester's shares is
eleven dollars and a quarter.  Any persons wishing to take advantage of
this offer should contact their broker or write direct for details to

Mr.  Robin Oakley, Chase Manhattan Bank, One Chase Manhattan Plaza,
New

York, N. Y. 10005.  This offer remains open until July 15.

In his article on the facing page, Vermont Royster pointed out that
this bold bid to take over Lester's must have had the support of
Chase

Manhattan, which would be holding the stock of the Baron Group as
security.

The columnist went on to predict that if the bid succeeded, Richard
Kane would undoubtedly be appointed the new chairman, a position his
father had held for more than twenty years.  If, on the other hand, the
move failed, the Baron Group might find themselves with severe cash
restrictions placed on their reserves for several years because the
Group would be encumbered with a large minority shareholding without
actually controlling the bank.

Richard could not have summed up the situation more accurately
himself.

Florentyna called Richard's office to congratulate her husband on the
way he had carried out Operation Bust a Gut.  "Like Napoleon, you have
remembered that the first rule of war is surprise."

"Well, let's hope Jake Thomas is not my Waterloo."

"You're such a pessimist, Mr.  Kane.  Just remember, Mr.  Thomas is
probably sitting in the nearest men's room at this moment and he
doesn't have a secret weapon and you do."

I do?"  said Richard.

"Yes.  Me."  The phone clicked and rang again immediately.

"Mr.  Thomas of Lester's Bank on the line for you, Mr.  Kane."

1 wonder if he has a phone in the men's room, thought Richard.  "Put
him through," he said, understanding for the first time a little of
what the confrontation between his father and Abel Rosnov'ki must have
been like.

"Mr.  Kane, I thought we ought to see if we can sort out our
differences.

Perhaps I was a little overcautious in not offering you a place on the
board immediately."

"I'm no longer interested in a place on the board, Mr.  Thomas."

"No?  But f thought-"

"No.  I am now interested only in the chair."

"You do realize that if you fail to secure fifty-one percent of
Lester's stock by July fifteenth, we could institute immediate changes
in the allocation of bearers' stock and voting shares that will
diminish the value of the stock you already hold?  And I feel I should
add that the members of the board already control between them forty
percent of

Lester's stock, and I intend to contact all other shareholders by
telegram today with a recommendation not to take up your offer.  Once I
am in possession of another eleven percent, you will have lost a small
fortune."

"That's a risk I'm willing to take," said Richard.

"Well, if that's your attitude, Kane, I shall call a full shareholders'
meeting for July thirtieth and if you haven't obtained your fifty-oric
percent by then I will personally see to it that you are kept out of
any dealing with this bank for as long as I am chairman."  Thomas's
tone suddenly changed from bullying to ingratiating.  "Now perhaps you
might like to reconsider your position "

"When I left your office, Mr.  Thomas, I made it clear what I had in
mind.

Nothing has changed."  Richard put the phone down, opened his diary
to

July 30 and put a line through the page writing across it:
"Stockholders meeting, Lester's Bank," with a large question mark.  He
received Jake

Thomas's telegram to all stockholders that afternoon.

Every morning Richard followed the response to his advertisement with
calls to Thaddeus Cohen and Chase Manhattan.  By the end of the first
week they had picked up 31 percent of the shares, which with Richard's
8 percent meant that they held 39 percent in all.  If Thomas had in
fact started with 40 percent, it was going to be a tight finish.

Two days after his phone call from Jake Thomas, Richard received a
detailed letter sent by Thomas to all shareholders, advising strongly
against consideration of the offer from the Baron Group.  "Your
interests would be transferred into the hands of a company which until
recently was controlled by a man convicted of bribery and corruption,"
stated the final paragraph.  Richard was disgusted by Jake Thomas's
personal attack on Abel and he had never seen anything make

Florentyna so angry.

"We are going to beat him, aren't we?"  she asked, her fingers clenched
into a tight fist.

"It will be close.  I know they have over forty percent among the
directors and their friends.  As of four o'clock this afternoon we have
forty-one percent, so it's a battle for the last nineteen percent that
will decide who wins on July thirtieth."

During the end of the foJlowing month, Richard heard nothing from
Jake

Thomas, which made him wonder if he had already captured fifty-one
percent, but with only eight weeks left until the stockholders' meeting
it was

Richard's turn to read over breakfast a full-page advertisement that
made his heartbeat hit 120.  On page 37 of The Wall Street Journal Jake
Thomas had made an announcement on behalf of Lester's.  They were
offerino two million shares of authorized but previously unoffered
stock to be sold for a newly set-up pension fund on behalf of the
bank's employees.

In an interview with the Journal's chief reporter, Thomas explained
that this was a major step in profit sharing and the funding of
retirement income that would be a model to the nation both inside and
outside the banking fraternity.

Richard swore uncharacteristically as he left the table and walked
toward the phone, leaving his coffee to go cold.

"What did you say?"  said Florentyna.

"Balls," He repeated, and passed her the paper.  She read the news
while

Richard was dialing.

"What does it mean?"

"It means that even if we do acquire fifty-one percent of the present
stock, Thomas's authorized issue of a further two million shares, which
you can be sure will be sold only to the institutions, thus making it
impossible to defeat him on July thirtieth."

"Is it legal?"  inquired Florentyna.

"That's what I'm about to find out," said Richard.

Thaddeus Cohen gave him an immediate reply.  "It's legal, unless you
succeed in getting a judge to stop them.  I was in the process of
having the necessary papers drawn up, but I warn you, if we are not
granted a preliminary injunction you will never be chairman of
Lester's."

During the next twenty-four hours Richard found himself rushing in and
out of lawyers' offices and courtrooms.  He signed three affidavits and
a judge in chambers heard the case for an injunction.  This was
followed by a special expedited appeal in front of a three-judge panel
which, after a day of deliberation, came down two to one in favor of
holding up the share offering until the day after the extraordinary
general meeting.  Richard had won the battle but not the war; when he
returned to his office the next morning, he found he still had only 46
percent of the stock needed to defeat Jake Thomas.

"He must have the rest," said Florentyna forlornly.

I don't think so," said Richard.

"Why not?"  she asked.

"Because he would not have bothered with that smoke screen exercise of
the pension fund shares if he already had fifty-one percent."

"Good thinking, Mr.  Kane."

"The truth is," said Richard, "that he fears we have fifty one percent,
so where is the missing five percent?"

During the last few days of June, Richard had to be stopped from
phoning

Chase Manhattan every hour to discover if they had received any more
shares.  When July 15 came he had 49 percent and was acutely aware that
in exactly fifteen days Thomas would be able to issue new voting shares
that would make it virtually impossible for him ever to gain control
of

Lester's.  And because of the cash flow requirements of the Baron
Group, he would have to dump some of his Lester's stock immediately-no
doubt, as Jake

Thomas had predicted, at a considerable loss.  He found himself
mumbling "two percent, only two percent" several times during the
day.

With only a week to go, and with Richard finding it hard to concentrate
on the new hotel fire regulations being put into effect, Mary Preston
phoned.

I don't know a Mary Preston," Richard told his secretary.

"She says you would remember her as Mary Bigelow."

Richard smiled, wondering what she could possibly want.  He hadn't seen
her since leaving Harvard.  He picked up his phone.  "Mary, what a
surprise.  Or are you only phoning to complain about bad service at one
of the Baron hotels?"

"No, no complaints- although we once spent a night at a Baron if you
can remember that far back."

"How could I forget," he said, not remembering.

"No, I was only calling to seek your advice.  Some years ago my
great-uncle, Alan Lloyd, left me three percent of Lester's.  I've had a
letter from a Mr.  Jake Thomas asking me to pledge those shares to the
board and not to deal with you."

Richard held his breath and could hear his heartbeat.

"Are you still there, Richard?"

"Yes, Mary.  I was just thinking.  Well, the truth is--2'

"Now don't start a long speech, Richard.  Why don't you and your wife
come and spend a night in Florida with my husband and me and then you
can advise us."

"Florentyna doesn't return from San Francisco until Sunday--2'

"Then come on your own.  I know Max would love to meet you .

"Let me see if I can rearrange a couple of things.  I'll call you back
within the hour."

Richard phoned Florentyna, who told him to drop everything and go
alone.

"On Monday morning we will be able to wave good-bye to Jake Thomas once
and for all."

Richard then informed Thaddeus Cohen of the news.  He was delighted.
"On my list the stock is still under the name of Alan Lloyd."

"Well, it's now in the name of Mrs.  Max Preston."

"I don't give a damn what her name is, just go and get it."

Richard flew down on Saturday afternoon and was met at the West Palm
Beach airport by Mary's chauffeur, who drove Richard deep into the
countryside.

When he first saw the house Mary was living in he wondered how they
could fill it without about twenty children.  The vast mansion stood on
the side of a hill in a thousand acres of its own land.  It took eight
minutes to drive from the Lion Lodge gates to the imposing forty steps
in front of the house.  Mary was standing on the top step waiting to
greet him.  She was dressed in a well-cut riding outfit.  Her fair hair
still touched her shoulders.  As Richard looked up at her he recalled
what had first attracted him more than ten years before.

The butler whisked away Richard's overnight bag and ushered him into a
bedroom large enough to hold a small convention.  On the end of the bed
was a riding outfit.

Mary and Richard rode around the grounds before dinner and although
there was no sign of Max, she said he was expected about seven. Richard
was thankful that Mary never went beyond a canter.  It had been a long
time since he had ridden, and he knew he was going to be stiff in the
morning.

When they returned to the house Richard had a bath and changed into a
dark suit before going down to the drawing room a little after seven.
The butler poured him a sherry.  When Mary floated into the room in a
slight off-the-shoulder evening dress the butler handed her a large
whiskey without waiting to be asked.

"I am sorry, Richard, but Max has just phoned to say he's been held up
in

Dallas and won't be back until late tomorrow afternoon.  He will be
very disappointed not to meet you."  Before Richard could comment, she
added:

"Now let's go and have dinner and you can explain to me why the Baron
Group needs my three percent."

Richard took her slowly through the story of what had happened since
his father had taken over from her great-uncle.  He hardly noticed the
first two courses of dinner, he became so intent.

"So with my three percent," said Mary, "the bank can return safely into
the hands of the Kanes?"

"Yes," said Richard.  "Five percent is still missing, but as we already
have forty-nine percent, you can put us over the top."

"That's simple enough," said Mary, as the souffld dish was wisked
away.

"I'll speak to my broker on Monday and arrange everything.  Let's go
and have a celebration brandy in the library.  "

"You don't know what a relief that will be," said Richard, rising from
his chair and following his hostess down a long corridor.

The library turned out to be the size of a basketball court with almost
as many seats.  Mary poured Richard a coffee while the butler offered
him a

Remy Martin.  She told the butler that that was all she needed for the
evening and sat down next to Richard on the sofa.

"Quite like old times," said Mary, edging toward him.

Richard agreed as he came back from his daydreams of being chairman
of

Lester's.  He was enjoying the brandy and hardly noticed when Mary
rested her head on his shoulder.  After she had poured him a second
brandy he couldn't miss that her hand had shifted onto his leg.  He
took another sip of cognac.  Suddenly and without warning she threw her
arms around Richard and kissed him on the lips.  When she eventually
released him, he laughed and said, "Just like old times."  He stood up
and poured himself a large black coffee.  "What's keeping Max in
DallasT'

"Gas piping," said Mary, without much enthusiasm.  Richard remained
standing by the mantelpiece.

During the next hour he learned all about gas piping and a little
about

Max.  When the clock struck twelve he suggested it might be time to
turn in.  She made no comment, just rose from her seat and accompanied
him up the vast staircase to his room.  She walked away before he could
kiss her good night.

Richard found it hard to sleep, because his mind was a mixture of
elation at having secured Mary's 3 percent of Lester's and his plans
for how the takeover of the bank would be carried out kith a minimum of
disruption.

He realized that, even as ex-chairman, Jake Thomas could still be a
nuisance and was considering ways of controlling the man's anger at
losing the takeover battle when he heard a slight click from the
bedroom door.  He glanced toward it to see the handle turning, and then
the door itself pushed slowly open.  Mary stood silhouetted, wearing a
see-through pink negligee.

"Are you still awake?"

At first, Richard lay motionless, wondering if he could get away with
pretending to be asleep.  But he was aware that she might have seen him
move, so he said, sleepily, "Yes."  He was amused by the thought that
this could not be a time for thinking on his feet.

Mary padded over to the edge of the bed and sat down.  "Would you like
anything?"

"A good night's sleep," said Richard.

"I can think of two ways of helping you achieve that," said Mary,
leaning forward and stroking the back of his head.  "You could take a
sleeping pill, or we could make love."

"That's a nice idea, but I've already taken the sleeping pill," said

Richard.

"It doesn't seem to have had the desired effect-, so perhaps we should
try the second remedy," said Mary.  She lifted the negligee over her
head and allowed it to fall to the floor.  Then without another word
she slipped under the covers and drew herself close to Richard. Richard
could feel that her firm figure was that of a woman who did a lot of
exercise and had had no children.

"Hell, I wish I hadn't taken that pill," said Richard, "or at least
that

I c(iuld stay another night."

Mary started kissing Richard's neck while running a hand down his back
until she reached between his legs.

Christ, thought Richard, I'm only human.  And then a door slammed. Mary
threw back the covers, grabbed her negligee, ran across the room and
disappeared faster than a thief when a light is flicked on. Richard
pulled the sheets back over his body and listened to a munriur of
conversation which he couldn't make out.

He spent the rest of the night in a fitful sleep.

When he came down to breakfast the next morning, he found Mary chatting
to an elderly man who must once have been very handsome.

The man rose and shook Richard by the hand.  "Allow me to introduce
myself.  I'm Max Preston," he said.  "Although I hadn't planned to be
with you this weekend, my business finished early and I managed to
catch the last flight out of Dallas.  I certainly wouldn't have wanted
you to leave my home without having experienced true southern
hospitality.  " Max and

Richard chatted over breakfast about the problems they were both facing
on Wall Street.  They were deep into the effects of Nixon's new tax
regulations when the butler announced that the chauffeur was waiting to
take Mr.  Kane to the airport.

The Prestons accompanied Richard down the forty steps to the waiting
car, where Richard turned and kissed Mary on the cheek, thankW her for
all she had done and shook Max warmly by the hand.

"I hope we shall meet again," said Max.

"That's a nice idea.  Why don't you give me a call when you're next in
New

York?"  Mary smiled at him gently.

Mary and Max Preston waved as the Rolls-Royce glided down the long
drive.

Once his plane had taken off, Richard felt a tremendous sense of
relief.

The stewardess served him a cocktail and he began to think about his
plans for Monday.  To his delight, Florentyna had dinner waiting for
him on his return to Sixty-fourth Street.

"The shares are ours," he told her excitedly and went over the full
details during dinner.  They fell asleep on the sofa by the fire a
little before midnight, Florentyna's hand resting on his leg.

The next morning Richard placed a call through to Jake Thomas to
inform, him that he was now in possession of 52 percent.

Richard could hear an intake of breath.

"As soon as the certificates are in my lawyer's hands, I shall come
ever to the bank and let you know how I expect the change-over to be
carried out,"

"Of course," said "Thomas resignedly.  "May I ask from whom you
obtained the last two percent?"

"Yes, from an old tri end of mine, Mary Preston."

There was a pause at the other end.  "Not Mrs.  Max Preston of
Florida?"  asked Jake Thomas.

"Yes," said Richard triumphantly.

"Then you needn't bother to come over, Mr.  Kane, because Mrs.  Preston
lodged her three percent of Lester's with us four weeks ago and we've
been in possession of the stock certificates for some time."  The phone
clicked.

It was Richard's turn to gasp.

When Richard told lqorentyna about the new development, all she could
say was: "You should have slept with the damned woman.  I bet Jake
Thomas would have."

"Would you have slopt with Scott Roberts in the same eircuinstancesT

"Good Gcd, no, MT.  Kane."

"Precisely, Jessie."

Richard spent another sleepless night thinking of how that final 2
percei~t might still be acquired.  It was obvious that each side now
had 49 percent of the stock.  Thaddeus Cohen had already warned him
that he must face reality and start thinking of ways to recoup the
maximum amount of cash for the shares he already had.  Perhaps he
should take a leaf out of Abel's book and sell heavily on July 29, the
day before the meeting.  Richard continued to toss and turn as useless
ideas rushed through his mind.  He turned over once again and tried to
catch some sleep precisely when Florentyna woke with a start.

"Are you awake?"  she asked quietly.

"Yes, chasing two percent."

"So am I. Do you remember your mother telling us that someone had
purchased two percent from Mr.  Peter Parfitt on behalf of your father
to stop my father from getting his hands on it?"

"Yes, I do," said Richard.

"Well, perhaps they haven't heard about our offer."

"My darling, it's been in every paper in the United States."

"So have the Beatles, but not everyone has heard of them."

"I suppose it's worth a try," said Richard, picking up the phone by the
side of his bed.

"Who are you calling, the Beatles?"

"No, my mother."

"At four o'clock in the morning?  You can't ring your mother in the
middle of the night."

"I can and I must."

"I wouldn t have told you if I'd known you might do that."

"Darling, there are only two and a half days to go before I lose you
thirty-seven million dollars, and the owner of the shares we need so
badly might live in Australia."

"Good point, Mr.  Kane."

Richard dialed the number and waited.  A sleepy voice answered the
phone.

"Mother?"

"Yes, Richard.  What time is it?"

"Four o'clock in the morning.  I'm sorry to bother you, but there is no
one else I can turn to.  Now please listen carefully.  You once said
that a friend of Father's bought two percent of Lester's stock from
Peter Parfitt to keep it from failing into the hands of Florentyna's
father.  Can you remember who it was?"

There was a pause.  "Yes, I think so.  It will come back to me if you
hold on a minute.  Yes, it was an old friend from England, a banker who
had been at

Harvard with your father.  The name kill come in a moment."  Richard
held his breath.  Florentyna sat up in bed.

"Emson.  Colin Emson, the chairman of .. . oh, dear, I can't
remember."

"Don't worry, Mother, that's enough to be getting on with.  You go back
to steep."

"What a thoughtful and considerate son you are," said Kate Kane as she
put down the phone.

"Now what, Richard?"

"Just make breakfast."

Florentyna kissed him on the forehead and disappeared.

Richard picked up the phone.  "International operator, please.  What
time is it in London?"

"Seven minutes past nine."

Richard flicked through his personal book and said, "Please connect me
to

372-771 L"

He waited impatiently.  A voice came on the line.

"Bank of America."

"Put me through to Jonathan Coleman, please."

Another wait.

"Jonathan Coleman."

"Good morning, Jonathan, it's Richard Kane."

"Nice to hear from you, Richard.  What can I do for you?"

"I need some information urgently.  Which bank is Colin Emson chairman
of?"

"Hold on a minute, Richard, and I'll look him up in the Bankers' Year

Book."  Richard could hear the pages turning.  "Robert Fraser and
Company" came back the reply.  "Only now he's Sir Colin Emson."

"What's his number?"

"493-321 L"

"Thank you, Jonathan.  I'll give you a call when I'm next in London."

Richard wrote the number on the corner of an e-pvelope and dialed the
international operator again as Florentyna came into the bedroom.

"Getting anywhere?"

"I'm about to find out.  Operator, can you please get me a number in

London.  Four nine three, three two one one."  Florentyna sat on the
end of the bed while Richard waited.

"Robert Fraser and Company."

"May I speak to Sir Colin Emson, please."

"Who shall I say is calling, sir?"

"Richard Kane of the Baron Group, New York."

"Hold on please, sir."

Richard waited again.

"Good morning.  Emson here."

"Good morning, Sij Colin.  My name is Richard Kane-l think you knew my
father?"

"Of course.  We were at Harvard together.  Good chap, your old man.  I
was very sad to read about his death.  Wrote to your mother at the
time.  Where are you calling from?"

"New York."

"Get up early, you Americans.  So what can I do for you?"

"Do you still own two percent of Lester's Bank shares?"  Richard held
his breath again.

"Yes, I do.  Paid a bloody king's ransom for them.  Still, can't
complain.

Your father did me a few favors in his time."

"Would you consider selling them, Sir Colin?"

"If you're willing to offer me a sensible price."

"How much would you consider sensible?"

There was a long pause.  "Eight hundred thousand dollars."

"I accept," said Richard without hesitation, "but I must be able to
pick them up tomorrow.  If I bank-transfer the money, can you havu all
the paper work done by the time I arrive?"

"Simple, dear boy, yes," Emson said without demur.  "I'll also have a
car meet you at the airport and put at your disposal while you're in
London."

"Thank you, Sir Colin."

"Go easy with the "Sir," young fellow.  I've reached that age when I
prefer to be called by my Christian name.  Just let me know when you
expect to arrive and everything will be ready for you."

"Thank you .. . Colin."

Richard put down the phone.

"You're not getting dressed, are you?"

"I certainly am.  I won't get any more sleep tonight.  Now, where's my
breakfast?"

By six o'clock Richard was booked on the nine-fifteen flight from
Kennedy

Airport.  He had also booked himself on a return flight the following
morning at eleven, arriving back in New York by one thirty-five the
following afternoon, giving him twenty-four hours to spare before the
shareholders' meeting at 2 P. m. on Wednesday.

"Running things a bit close, aren't we?"  said Florentyna.

"That's why I am going myself and not risking a messenger.  "

"Well, messenger, William will expect you to bring him back a model of
a red London bus."

"You're always making these major commitments on my behalf.  It's a
heavy load I carry as the chief executive of your group."

"I know, dear, and to think it's only because you sleep with the
chairman."

By seven Richard was seated at his office desk writing explicit
instructions for the transfer of the $800,000 by Telex to Robert Fraser
and Company, Albermarle Street, London W. 1. Richard knew the money
would be in Sir Colin Emson's bank long before he was.  At seven-thirty
he was driven to the airport and he checked in.  The 747 took off on
time and he arrived at London's Heathrow at ten o'clock that night. Sir
Colin Emson had been as good as his word.  A driver was waiting to pick
him up and whisk him off to the Baron.  The manager had put him in the
Davis Leroy

Suite.  The Presidential Suite, he explained, was already occupied by
Mr.

Jagger.  The rest of his group had taken over the ninth floor.

"I don't think I know the group," said Richard.  "What area do they
specialize in?"

"Singing," said the manager.

When Richard checked at the reception desk, there was a message waiting
for him from Sir Colin suggesting they meet at the bank at nine the
following morning.

Richard dined quietly in his rooms and called Florentyna to bring her
up to date before going to bed.

"Hang in there, Mr.  Kane-we're all depending on you."

Richard woke at seven and packed before going down to breakfast.  His
father had always gone on about the kippers in London, so he ordered
them with some anticipation.  When he had finished the last morsel, he
realized that they were so good that he would undoubtedly bore his own
son with the same story for man) years to come.  After breakfast, he
walked around Hyde Park to kill the hour before the bank opened.  The
park was green and the flower beds a mass of untouched daffodils.  He
couldn't help but compare its beauty to Central

Park and recalled that London still had five Royal parks of a similar
size.

As nine o'clock struck, Richard walked in the front door of Robert
Fraser and Company on Albermarle Street, only a few hundred yards from
the

Baron.  A secretary ushered him through to Sir Colin Emson's office.

"Had a feeling you'd be on time, old fellow, so I have everything
prepared for you.  I once remember finding your father sitting on the
doorstep with the milk bottles.  Everybody drank black of fee that
day."

Richard laughed.

"Your eight hundred thousand dollars arrived before close of business
yesterday, so all I have to do is sign the share certificates over to
you in the presence of a witness."  Sir Colin flicked a switch.  "Can
you come in, Margaret?"  Sir Colin's private secretary watched the
chair nan of one bank sign the transfer certificates so that the
recipient could become the chairman of another bank.

Richard checked over the documents, carefully signed his part of the
agreement and was handed a receipt for $800,000.

"Well, I hope all the trouble you've taken in coming yourself will
ensure that you become the chairman of Lester's, old chap."

Richard stared at the elderly man with the white walrus mustache, bdd
head and military bearing.  I had no idea you realized that

"Wouldn't want you Americans to think we're altogether asleep over
here.

Now you bustle off and catch the eleven o'clock from Heathrow and
you'll make your meeting easily: not many of my customers pay as
promptly as you do.  By the way, congratulations on that moon chap
pic

"What?"  said Richard.

"You've put a man on the moon."

"Good heavens," said Richard.

"No, not quite," said Sir Colin, "but I'm sure that's what NASA has
planned next."

Richard laughed and thanked Sir Colin again.  He walked quickly back
it) the Baron, literally humming.  He knew exactly what it felt like to
be the man on the moon.  He had left his overnight bag with the porter
so he was able to check out quickly and Sir Colin's chauffeur drove him
back to Heathrow.  Richard entered terminal 3 well in time to check in
for the eleven o'clock flight.  He was going to be back in New

York with twenty-four hours to spare: if his father had had to make the
same transaction before he became chairman the process would have taken
at least two weeks.

Richard sat in the Clipper Club lounge toying with a martini while
reading in the Times about Rod Laver's chances of going on from his
victory at Wimbledon to win The Grand Slam.  Outside, a heavy fog was
descending.  It wasn't until thirty minutes later that an announcement
warned passengers that there would be a short delay on all flights.  An
hour later, they called Richard's flight, but as he walked across the
tarmac he could see the fog growing denser by the minute.  He sat in
his seat, belt fastened, reading a copy of the previous week's Time
magazine, willing himself not to look outside, waiting to feel the
plane move.

Nixon, he read, hitd named the first women generals, Colonel
Elizabeth

Hoisington and Colonel Anne Mae Hays; no doubt the first innovation
Nixon had made that Florentyna would approve of, he thought.

"We are sorry to announce that this flight has been delayed until
further notice because of fog."  A groan went up inside the first-class
cabin.

"Passengers should return to the terminal, where they will be issued
with luncheon vouchers and advised when to reboard the aircraft.  Pan
American apologizes for the delay and hopes it will not cause any great
inconvenience."  Richard had to smile, despite himself.  Back inside
the terminal, he went around to every ticket counter, checking on who
had the first plane out.  It turned out to be an Air Canada flight to
Montreal.

He reserved a seat, after being told that his Pan Am flight to New York
was now the twenty-seventh in line for departure.  He then checked the
flights out of Montreal to New York.  There was one every two hours and
the flying time was just over an hour.  He pestered Pan American and
Air

Canada every thirty minutes, but the polite, bland reply remained
unvaried: "I'm sorry, sir, we can do nothing until the fog lifts."

At two in the afternoon, he called Florentyna to warn her about the
delay.

"Not impressive, Mr.  Kane.  While you're on the phone, did you manage
to pick up a red London bus for William?"

"Damn.  I completely forgot."

"Not doing very well today, Mr.  Kane.  Better try the duty free gift
shop, hadn't we?"

Richard found an airport shop that sold several sizes of London
buses.

He selected a large plastic one and paid for it with the last of his

English money.  With the bus safely under his arm, he decided to use
his luncheon voucher.  He sat down to the worst airport lunch he had
ever had: one thin piece of beef about an inch square that the menu had
misleadingly described as a minute steak, along with three tired
lettuce leaves posing as a side salad.  He checked his watch.  It was
already three o'clock.  For two hours he tried to read a copy of The
French

Lieutenant's Woman, but he was so anxious listening to every radio
announcement that he never got past page 4.

At seven o'clock, after Richard had walked around terminal 3 several
times, he began to think it would soon be too late for a plane to take
off whatever the weather.  The loudspeaker forebodingly warned of an
important announcement to follow shortly.  He stood like a statue as
the words came out.  "We are sorry to announce that all flights out
of

Heathrow have been canceled until tomorrow morning with the exception
of

Iran Air Flight 006 to Jiddah and Air Canada flight 009 to Montreal."

Richard had been saved by his foresight: he knew the Air Canada flight
would be completely sold out within minutes.  Once again he sat in a
first-class lounge.  Although the flight was further delayed, it was
eventually called a few minutes after eight.  Richard almost cheered
when the 747 took off a little after nine o'clock.  Thereafter he found
himself checking his watch every few minutes.  The flight was
uneventful except for more appalling food and the plane eventually
landed at Montreal airport shortly before eleven.

Richard sprinted to the American Airlines counter to discover that he
had missed the last flight to New York by a few minutes.  He swore out
loud.

"Don't worry, sit, there is a flight at ten twenty-five tomorrow
morning."

"What time does it arrive in New York?"

"Eleven -thirty."

"Two hours and thirty minutes to spare," he said out loud.  "I'll have
io hire a private plane."

"No plane is allowed out of this airport after ten-thirty, sir."

"Damn," Richard said, and reserved a seat and took a room in the
Aiq~orf

Baron and phoned Florentyna.

"Where am you now?"  she asked.

"The Airport Baron, Montreal."

"Curiouser and curiouser."

Richard explained what had happened.

"Poor darling.  Did you remember the red London bus?"

"Yes, I'm clinging on to it, but my overnight bag is still on the Pan
Ain flight to New York."

"And the stock certificates?"

"They are in my briefcase and have never left my side."

"Well don-, Mr.  Kane.  I'll have a car waiting for you at the airport,
and Mr.  Cohen and I will be at the stockholders' meeting at Lester's
clutching on to our forty-nine percent.  So if you're in possession of
your two percent, Jake Thomas will be on unemployment compensation by
this time tomorrow."

"How can you be so coot about it?"

"You've never let me down yet.  Sleep well."

Richard did not sleep well, and was back at the American Airlines
terminal hours before the plane was due to board.  There was a slight
delay, but the captain was still anticipating that he could land at

Kennedy by eleven-thirty.  Richard had no baggage and felt confident he
could now make the meeting with at least half an hour to spare.  For
the first time in over twenty-four hours he began to relax and even
made some notes for his first speech as Lester's chairman.

When the 707 arrived at Kennedy it began to circle the airport. Richard
looked out of his little window and could clearly see the building in

Wall Street that he had to be at in two hours.  He thumped his knee in
anger.  At last the plane descended a few hundred feet, only to start
circling again.

"This is Captain James McE well speaking.  I am sorry for this delay,
but we have been put into a holding pattern because of traffic
congestion.

It seems there are some delayed flights from London now arriving into
New

York."  Richard wondered if the Pan American flight from Heathrow would
land before he did.

Five minutes, ten minutes, fifteen minutes.  Richard checked the
agenda.

Item number one-a motion to reject the takeover bid by the Baron
Group.

Item number two-the issuing of new voting shares.  If they couldn't
prove they had 51 percent, Jake Thomas would close the proceedings
within minutes after the meeting began.  The plane began to descend and
the wheels touched the ground at twelve twenty-seven.  Richard sprinted
through the terminal.  He passed his chauffeur on the run, who quickly
followed him to the parking lot, where Richard once again checked his
watch.  An hour and twenty minutes to spare.  He was going to make the
meeting comfortably.

"Step on it," said Richard.

"Yes, sir," said the chauffeur as he moved into the left-hand lane of
the

Van Wyck Expressway.  Richard heard the siren a few minutes later and a
policeman on a motorcycle overtook the car and waved them on to the
hard shoulder.  The policeman parked and walked slowly toward Richard,
who had already leaped out of the car.  Richard tried to explain that
it was a matter of life and death.

"It always is," said the officer.  "Either that or "My wife is having a
baby."  Richard left his chauffeur to deal with the policeman while he
tried to hail a passing cab, but they were all full.  Sixteen minutes
later the policeman let them go.  It was one twenty-nine as they
crossed the Brooklyn Bridge and turned onto FDR Drive.  Richard could
see the skyscrapers of Wall Street in the distance, but the cars were
bumper to bumper all the way.  It was six minutes to two before they
reached Wall

Street, when Richard could bear it no longer and jumped out of the car,
briefcase under one ann, a red London bus under the other, and sprinted
the last three blocks, dodging slow pedestrians and fast-honking cab
drivers.  He heard the clock at Trinity Church chime two as he
reached

Bowling Green and prayed that it was fast as he raced up the steps of
the

Lester's building, suddenly realizing he didn't know where the meeting
was being held.

"Fifty-first floor, sir," the doorman informed him.

The 30 to 60 elevator was full with the post-lunch-hour crowd and it
stopped at 31-33-34-42-44-47-5051.  Richard jumped out of the elevator
and ran down the corridor, following the red arrow that indicated where
the meeting was taking place.  As he arrived in the crowded room, one
or two faces turned to look at him.  There must have been over five
hundred people seated listening to the chairman, but he was the only
shareholder sweating from head to toe.  He was greeted by the sight of
a coot Jake

Thomas, who gave him a knowing smile from the platform.  Richard
realized he was too late.  Florentyna was sitting in the front row, her
head bowed.

He took a seat at the back of the room and listened to the chairman
of

Lester's.

"All of us believe that the decision that has been made today is in the
best interests of the bank.  In the circumstances that your board of
directors faced, no one will have been surprised by my request, and
Lester's will now continue its traditional role as one of

America's great financial institutions.  Item number two," said Jake

Thomas.  Richard felt sick.  "My final task as chairman of Lester's is
to propose that the new chairman be Mr.  Richard Kane."

Richard could not believe his ears.  A little old lady rose from her
seat in the front row and said that she would like to second the motion
because she felt that Mr.  Kane's father had been one of the finest
chairmen the bank had ever had.  There was a round of applause as the
old lady sat down.

"Thank you," said Jake Thomas.  "Those in favor of the resolution?"

Richard stated into the body of the hall as hands shot into the air.

"Those against," Jake Thomas looked down from the platform.  "Good, the
resolution is carried unanimously.  I am now happy to invite your new
chairman to address you.  Ladies and gentlemen, Mr.  Richard Kane."
Richard walked forward and everyone stood and applauded.  As he passed
Florentyna he handed her the red bus.

"Glad you accomplished something on your trip to London," she
whispered

Richard walked, dazed, onto the platform.  Jake Thomas shook his hand
and then took a seat on the end of the row.

"I have little to say on this occasion," began Richard, "other than to
assure you that I wish Lester's to carry on in the same tradition as it
did under my father and that I will dedicate myself to that end."
Unable to think of anything else to add, he smiled and said, "I thank
you for your attendance today and look forward to seeing you all at the
annual meeting."  There followed another round of applause and the
shareholders began to disperse, chattering.

As soon as they could escape from those who wished to buttonhole
Richard, either to congratulate him or to tell him how they felt
Lester's should be run, Florentyna led him away to the chairman's
office.  He stood and stared at the portrait of his father that hung
over the fireplace and turned to his wife.

"How did you manage it, Jessie?"

"Well, I remembered a piece of advice my governess had taught me when I
was younger.  Contingency, Miss Tredgold used to say.  Always have a
contingency plan ready in case it rains.  When you called from
Montreal

I was afraid there might be an outside chance it would pour and you
wouldn't make the meeting.  So I called Thaddeus Cohen and explained
what my contingency plan was and he spent the morning drawing up the
necessary documents."

"What documents?"  said Richard.

"Patience, Mr.  Kane.  I do feel after my triumph that I have the right
to spin out this tale a little longer."

Richard remained impatiently silent.

"When I had the vital document in my hand, I phoned Jake Thomas and
asked if he could see me twenty minutes before the stockholders'
meeting was due to start.  Had you arrived in time, I would have
canceled the confrontation with Mr.  Thomas, but you didn't."

"But your plan-"

"My father-no fool-told me once a skunk, always a skunk, and he turned
out to be right.  At the meeting with Thomas, I informed him that we
were in possession of fifty one percent of Lester's stock.  He was
disbelieving until I mentioned the name of Sir Colin Emson, and then he
turned quite pale.  I placed the whole bundle of certificates on the
table in front of him and, before he could check them, told him that if
he sold me his two percent before two o'clock I would still pay him the
full fourteen dollars per share.  I -added that he must also sign a
document saying he would resign as chairman and make no attempt to
interfere in any future dealings involving Lester's Bank.  For good
measure, although it was not in the contract, he must propose you for
chairman,"

"My God, Jessie, you have the nerve of ten men."

"No.  One woman."

Richard laughed.  "What was Thomas's response?"

"Asked what I would do if he refused.  If you refuse, I told him, we'll
sack you publicly without compensation for loss of office.  Then I
pointed out to him that he would have to sell his stock for the best
price he could get on the open market because as long as we had
fifty-one percent of Lester's he would play no part in the future of
the bank."

"And then?"

"He signed there and then without even consulting his fellow
directors."

"Brilliant, Jessie, both in conception and execution."

"Thank you, Mr.  Kane.  I do hope that now you are chairman of a bank
you won't be running all over the world getting yourself delayed,
missing meetings and having nothing to show for your troubles other
than a model of a red London bus.  By the way, did you remember to
bring a present for

Annabel?"

Richard looked embarrassed.  Florentyna bent down and handed him an F.
A. 0. Schwarz shopping bag.  He lifted out a package that showed a
picture of a toy typewriter on the outside with "Made in England"
printed all along the bottom of the box.

"Just not ~ our day is it, Mr.  Kane?  By the way, Neil Armstrong got
back quicker than you did.  Perhaps we should invite him to join the
board?"

Richard read Vermont Royster's article in The Wall Street Journal the
next morning:

Richard Kaneseems to have won a bloodless coup in his bid to become
chairman of Lester'".  There was no vote taken by shareholders at the
extraordinary meeting, and his succession to the chair was proposed by
the retiring incumbent, Jake Thomas, and carried unanimously.

Many stockholders present at the meeting referred to the traditions and
standards set by the late William Lowell Kane, the present chairman's
father.  Lester's stock ended the day up two points on the

New York Exchange.

"That's the last we'll hear of Jake Thomas," said Flornentyna.

RICHARD HAD NEVER HEARD OF MAJOR ABANJo before that morning.  Neither
had anyone else in America other than those who took an overzealous
interest in the affairs of Nambawe, Central Africa's smallest state.
Nevertheless, it was Major Abanjo who caused Richard to run late for
his most important appointment that day, the eleventh birthday of his
only son.

When Richard arrived back at the apartment on Sixty-fourth Street,
Major

Abanjo was driven from his mind by Annabel, who had a few minutes
earlier poured a pot of tea over William's hand because she wasn't
receiving enough attention.  She hadn't realized that it was boiling
hot.  It seemed that Carol had been in the kitchen fussing over the
birthday cake at the time.  Annabel was getting even less attention now
that William was screaming at the top of his voice, and all the other
children had to be sent home.  A few minutes later Annabel was also
screaming, after Richard had placed her across his knee and
administered six hard whacks with his slipper before both children were
put to bed-William with two aspirins and an ice bag to help him sleep
and Annabel as a further punishment.

Eleven candles-and one to grow on-had burned themselves down to the
icing on the large cake that remained untouched on the dining room
table.

"I'm afraid William will have a scar on his right hand for the rest of
his life," said Florentyna after she had checked to see that her son
was at last asleep.

"Still, he took it like a man."

"Idon't agree," said Florentyna.  "He never once grumbled."  "it
probably wouldn't have happened if I had been on time," said Richard,
ignoring her comment.  "Damn Major Abanjo."

"Who is Major Abanjo?"  asked Florentyna.

"A young army officer who was behind the coup in Nambawe today.  "

"Why should a little African state stop you from being on time for

William's birthday party?"

"That little African state has an outstanding five-year loan agreement
of three hundred million dollars that Lester's led on in 1966 and the
repayment is due in three months."

"We are in for three hundred million dollars?"  said Florentyna,
flabbergasted.

"No, no," said Richard.  "We covered the first fifteen percent of the
loan, and the remaining two hundred and fifty million was divided among
thirty-seven other financial institutions."

"Can we survive a loss of forty-five million dollars?"

"Yes we can, as long as the Baron Group remains our friends," said

Richard, smiling at his wife.  "It's three years' profits down the
drain, not to mention a severe blow to our reputation with the other
thirty-seven banks and the inevitable drop in our stock price
tomorrow."

Lester's stock dropped the next day by more than Richard had
anticipated, for two reasons.  The newly self-appointed President of
Nambawe, Major

Abanjo, announced that he had no intention of honoring previous
government commitments made with any "Fascist regime" including
America,

Britain, France, Germany and Japan.  Richard wondered how many Russian
bankers were boarding planes to Central Africa at that moment.

The second reason became apparent when a reporter from The Wall
Street

Journal called Richard and asked him if he had any statement to make
about the coup.

"I really have nothing to say," said Richard, trying to sound as if the
whole episode were about as troublesome to him as brushing a fly off
his sleeve.  "I feel sure the problem will sort itself out during the
next few days.  After all, the loan is only one of many that Lester's
is involved with at the present time."

"Mr.  Jake Thomas might not agree with that opinion," said the
journalist.

"You have spoken to Mr.  Thomas?"  said Richard in disbelief.

"Yes, Mr.  Kane, he called the Journal earlier today and had an
off-the-record conversation with our publisher, leaving us in no doubt
that he would be surprised if Lester's could survive such a demand on
cash flow."

"No comment," said Richard curtly, and put the phone down.

At Richard's request, Florentyna called a board meeting of the Baron
(3roup to ensure enough financial backing so that Lester's could
survive a run on its stock.  To Richard's and Florentyna's surprise,
George was not at all convinced that the Baron Group should enmesh
itself in

Lester's problems.  He told them he had never approved of using the
Baron stock as security for the takeover of the bank in the first
place.

"I remained silent at the time, but I'm not willing to do so on a
second occasion," he said, his hands resting on the boardroom table.
"Abel never liked throwing good money after bad, whatever his personal
involvement.

He used to say that anyone could talk ~tbout future profits and start
spending money they hadn't yet earned.  Have you considered that we
might both end up going under?"

"The sum involved is not that large to the Baron Group," said
Richard.

"Abel always considered any loss to be ten times the problem of any
profit," George told him.  "And what outstanding loans do you hax e to
other countries around the world which could be taken over while we are
asleep in bed?"

"Only one outside the EEC, and that's a loan of two hundred million to
the Shah of Iran.  Again we are the lead bank with a commitment of
thirty million, but Iran has never missed an interest payment by so
much as an hour."

"When is their final payment due?"  asked George.

Richard flicked through a bulky file that lay on the table in front of
him and ran his forefinger down a column of figures.  Although nettled
by

George's attitude, he was pleased to be well prepared for any query
that might arise.

"June ninete--n, 1978."

"Then I want an assurance you won't involve the bank again when the
loan comes up for renewal," said George firmly.

"What?"  said Richard.  "The Shah is as safe as the Bank of England-"

"Which hasn't proved to be so solid lately."

Richard was beginning to look angry and was about to respond when

Florentyna interrupted.

"Hold on, Richard.  If Lester's agrees not to renew its loan with the
Shah in 1978, or involve itself in any further Third World
commitments,

George, will you in turn agree to the Baron Group's underwriting the
forty-five million loss on the Narnbawe contract?"

"No, I'd still need some more convincing."

"Like what?"  Richard demanded.

"Richard, you don't have to raise your voice.  I am still the president
of the Baron Group.  Abel gave thirty years of his life to building the
company up to its present position, and I don't intend to see that
achievement demolished in thirty minutes."

"I'm sorry," said Richard.  "I haven't had much sleep for the last four
days.

What would you like to know, George?"

"Other than the agreement with the Shah, is Lester's committed to any
other loans over ten million?"

"No," said Richard.  "Most major country-to-country loans are serviced
by the prime banks like Chase or Chemical and we end up with only a
tiny percentage of the capital sum.  Obviously, Jake Thomas felt that
Nambawe, which is rich in copper and manganite, was as sure a bet as he
could hope to find."

"We already know, to our cost, that Mr.  Thomas is fallible," said
George

"So, what other loans above five million remain outstanding at the
bank?"

"Two," replied Richard.  "One with General Electricity in Australia for
seven million, which is secured by the government, and one with ICI
in

London.  Both are five-year loans with set payment dates and so far
repayments have been met on schedule."

"So if the Group wrote off the forty-five million, how long would it
take

Lester's to recoup the loss?"

"That would depend on the percentage any lender required and over what
period of time the money was loaned."

"Fifteen percent over five years."

"Fifteen percent?"  repeated Richard, shocked.

"The Baron Group is not a charity, Richard, and as long as I am
president it is not in business to prop up ailing banks.  We are
hoteliers by trade and have shown a seventeen percent return on our
money over the past thirty years.  If we loaned you forty-five million,
could you pay it back in five years at fifteen percent?"

Richard hesitated, scribbled some figures on the pad in front of him
and checked his file before he spoke.  "Yes, I am confident we could
repay every penny in five years, even assuming the African contract is
a total write-off," he said quietly.

"I think we must treat the contract precisely that way," said

George.  "My informants tell me that the former head of state,

King Erobo, has escaped to London and taken up residence at

Claridge's and is looking at a house that's for sale in Chelsea

Square.  It appears he has more money stashed away in Switzerland than
anyone other than the Shah, so I feel he's unlikely to return to Africa
in a hurry-and I can't say I blame him."  Richard tried to smile as
George continued.  "Subject to all you have told us being confirmed by
the Baron's auditors, I agree to covering ~he African loan on the terms
stated, and I wish you luck, Richard.  I'll also let you in on a little
secret: Abel didn't like Ji&e Thomas any more than you do, which is
what tipped the balance for me."  George closed his file.  I hope you
will both excuse me now as I have a lunch appointment with Conrad

Hilton and he has never once been late in thirty years."

When George had closed the door behind him, Richard turned to
Florentyna.

"Jesus, whose side does he think he's on?"  '~Ours," replied
Florentyna. "Now I know why my father happily trusted him to run the
Group while he went off to fight the German"."

A statement in The Wall Street Journal the following day confirming
that the Baron Group had underwritten Lester's loans caused the bank's
stocks to rise again, and Richard settled down to what be called "my
five years of drudgery."

"What are you going to do about Jake Thomas?"

"Ignore him," said Richard.  "Time is on my side.  No bank in New York
will employ him once it's known he is willing to run to the press
whenever he has a disagreement with his past employe~rs."

"But how will anyone ever find out?"

"Darling, if The Wall Street Journal knows, everybody knows."

Richard turned out to be right; the whole story was repeated back to
him over a lunch he had with a director of Bankers Trust only a week
later.

The director went on to remark, "That man's broken the golden rule of
banking.  From now on, he'll find it hard to open a checking
account."

William recovered from his burns far more quickly than Florentyna had
expected and returned to school a few days later with a scar on his
hand loo small to impress his friends.  For the first feNk days after
the accident Annabel looked away every time she saw the scar and seemed
genuinely contrite.

"Do you think he's forgiven me?"  she asked her mother.

"Of course, my darling.  William is just like his father forgets any
quarrel by the next morning."

Florentyna considered that the time had come for her to make a tour of
the Baron hotels in Europe.  Her staff worked out a detailed itinerary
that took in Rome, Paris, Madrid, Lis bon, West Berlin, Amsterdam,
Stockholm, London and even Warsaw.  She felt a new confidence in
leaving George in cont roi she told Richard as they were driven to the
airport.  He agreed and then reminded Florentyna that they had never
been apart for as long as three weeks since the day they had met.

"You'll survive, darling."

"I'll miss you, Jessie."

"Now, don't you get all sentimental.  You know that I have to work for
the rest of my life to make sure that my husband can continue posing as
chairman of a New York bank."

"I love you," said Richard.

"I love you too," said Florentyna.  "But you still owe me forty-five
million and fifty-six dollars."

"Where does the fifty-six come from?"  said Richard.

"From our (lays in San Francisco.  You've never repaid me that
fifty-six dollars I lent you before we were married."

"You said it was a dowry."

"No, you said it was a dowry.  I said it was a loan.  I think I'll have
to take George's advice about how it should be repaid as soon as I
return.

Perhaps fifteen percent over five years would seem reasonable, Mr.
Kane, which means you must now owe me around four hundred dollars." She
leaned up and kissed him goodbye.

Richard was driven back to New York by the chauffeur and on arrival at
his office he immediately phoned Cartier's in London.  He gave clear
instructions as to what he required and said it had to be ready in
eighteen days.

When the time had come for Richard to prepare his annual general report
for the bank, the red African figure maddened him.  Without it,
Lester's would have shown a healthy profit: so much for hoping he would
beat Jake

Thomas's figures in his first year.  All that the stockholders would
remember was a thumping loss compared with 1970.

Richard followed Florentyna's detailed schedule with interest every day
and made sure he caught up with her by phone at least once in every
capital.  She seemed pleased by most of what she had seen, and although
she had a few ideas for changes, she had to admit that the hotels on
the

Continent were well run by the Group's European directors.  Any excess
expenditure had been caused by her own demands for higher standards of
architecture.  When she phoned from Paris, Richard passed on the news
that

William had won the class mathematics prize and that he was now
confident that his son would be accepted by St.  Paul's.  And since the
hot water incident Annabel had tried a little harder at school and had
even scraped herself off the bottom of the class.

It was the best news Richard had given her.

"Where's your next stop?"  Richard asked.

"London," she replied.

"Great.  I've got a feeling I know someone you'll want to call when
you're there," he said with a chuckle, and went to bed feeling better
than he had for some days.

He heard from Florentyna much earlier than he had expected.  Around six
o'clock the next morning, Richard was in a deep sleep, dreaming that he
and Major Abanjo were having a shoot-out Richard pulled the trigger,
the bullet fired off.  Then the phone rang.  He woke up and lifted the
receiver, expecting to hear Major Abanjo's last words.

"I love you."

"What?"  he said.

"I love you."

"Jessie.  do you know what time it is?"

"A few minutes after twelve."

"It's eigit minutes past six in New York."

"I only wanted to tell you how much I love my diamond brooch."

Richard smiled.

"I'm going to wear it to lunch with Sir Colin and Lady Emson.  They're
due any minute to take me to the Mirabelle, so I must say goodbye. Talk
to you tomorrow-my today."

"You're a nut."

"By the way, I don't know if it's of any interest to you, but there's a
reporter on the midday news here in England saying something about a
certain Major Abanjo being killed in a counter coup in some Central

African state and the old king returning home tomorrow to a hero's
welcome."

"What?  '

"The king is just being interviewed now so I'll repeat what he's
saying.  "My government intends to honor all the debts it has incurred
with our friends in the Western world."

"What?"  repeated Richard, once again,

"He looks like such a nice fellow now that he's got the crown back on
his head.  Good night, Mr.  Kane.  Sleep well."

As Richard was leaping up and down on his bed, there was a knock on

Florentyna's door, and Sir Colin and Lady Emson came into her suite.

"Are you ready, young lady?"  asked Sir Colin.

"I am," said Florentyna.

"You look very pleased with yourself.  No doubt the reinstatement of
King

Erobo has brought the roses back to your cheeks."

"Well informed as you are, Sir Colin, that is not the reason," said

Florentyna as she glanced down at the card that lay on the table in
front of her and read the words again.

I hope that this will be acceptable security until I can return the
fifty-six dollars, plus interest.

Mr.  Kane

"What a lovely brooch you're wearing," said Lady Emson.  "It's a
donkey, isn't it?  Does that signify anything in particular?"

"It certain iv does, Lady Emson.  It means the giver intends to vote
for

Nixon again."

"Then you have to give him elephant cuff links in return," said Sir

Colin.

"You know, Richard was right: it doesn't pay to underestimate the

British," said Florentyna,

After lujich, Florentyna phoned Miss Tredgold at her school.  The
school secretary put her through to the staff room.  Miss Tredgold, it
turned out, did not need to be informed about the late Major Abanjo but
seemed more interested in all the news about William and Annabel.
Florentyna's second call was to Sotheby's-this time in person.  On
arrival she asked to see one of the department heads.

"It may be many years before such an item will come under the hammer,

Mrs.  Kane," the expert told her,

"I understand," said Florentyna.  "But please let me know the moment it
does."

"Certainly, madam," said the expert as he wrote down Flo-' rentyna's
name and address.

When Florentyna returned to New York after her three weeks she settled
down to implementing the changes she had been considering on her
European tour.  By the end of 1972, with her energy, George's wisdom
and Gianni di

Ferranti's genius, she was able to show an increased profit.  Thanks
to

King Erobo, who proved as good as his word, Richard was not far behind
her.

On the night of the annual stockholders' meeting, Richard, Florentyna
aud

George went out for a celebration dinner.  Even though George had
officially retired on his sixty-fifth birthday, he still came into the
office every morning at eight o'clock.  It had taken only twenty-four
hours for everyone at the Baron to realize that "retirement party" had
been a misnomer.  Florentyna began to appreciate how lonely George must
be now that he had lost most of his contemporaries and how close he had
been to her father.  She never once suggested that he should slow down,
because she knew it was pointless, and it gave her particular happiness
whenever George took Annabel and William on an outing.  Both the
children called him "Grandpapa," which brought tears to his eyes and
always guaranteed them a double-scoop ice cream cone.

Florentyna thought she knew how much George did for the Group, but the
truth came home to her only after his retirement could no longer be
postponed.  George died peacefully in his sleep in October 1973.  In
his will, he left everything to the Polish Red Cross and a short note
addressed to Richard, asking him to act as his executor.

Richard carried out George's every wish to the letter and even traveled
to Warsaw accompanied by Florentyna to meet the president of the
Polish

Red Cross and discuss how George's donation could best to put to use.

When they returned to New York, Florentyna sent a directive to all
managers in the Group that the finest suite in each hotel was no longer
to be the Presidential Suite but was to be renamed the "George Novak

Suite,"

When Richard woke the morning after they had returned from Warsaw,

Florentyna, who had been waiting impatiently for him to open his eyes,
told her husband that although George had taught her so much in life,
he had now added to her learning even in death.

"What are you talking about?"

"George left everything he had to charity but never once referred to
the fact that my father rarely made charitable conttibutions other than
the occasional gift to Polish or political causes.  I'm every bit as
remiss myself, and if you hadn't added a footnote to the Group's annual
general report concerning tax relief for charitable donations, I would
never have given the matter a second thought."

"Well, I'm sure you're not planning for something after your death.
What do you have in mind?"

"Why don't we set up a foundation in memory of both our fathers?  Let's
bring the two families together.  What they failed to do in their
lifetime, let us do in ours."

Richard sat up and stared at his wife as she got out of bed and
continued to talk as she walked toward the bathroom.

"The Baron Group should donate two million dollars a year to the
foundation," she said.

"Spending only the income, never the capital," he interjected.

Fiorentyna closed the bathroom door, which gave Richard a few moments
to consider her proposal.  He could still be surprised by hor bold,
sweeping approach to any new venture, even if, as he suspected, she had
not thought through who would handle the day-to-day administration of
such a vast enterprise once it had taken off.  He smiled to himself
when the bathroom door reopened.

"We could spend the income derived from such a trust on
first-generation immigrants who are not getting the chance of a decent
education."

"And also create scholarships for exceptionally gifted children
whatever their background," said Richard, getting out of bed.

"Brilliant, Mr.  Kane, and let us hope that occasionally the same
person will qualify for both."

"You father would have," said Richard as he disappeared into the
bathroom.

Thaddeus Cohen insisted on coming out of retirement to draw up the
deeds of the foundation to cover the wishes of both Kanes.  It took him
over a month.  When the trust fund was launched, the national press
welcomed the financial commitment as another example of how Richard and
Florentyna

Kane were ablu to combine bold originality with common sense.

A reporter from the Chicago Sun-Times phoned Thaddeus Cohen to inquire
why the foundation was so named.  Cohen explained that the choice of

"Remagen" arose because it was the battlefield on which Colonel
Rosnovski had unknowingly saved the life of Captain Kane.

"I had no idea they had met on a battlefield," said a young voice.

"Neither did they," said Thaddeus Cohen.  "It was only discovered
aftt,~r their deaths."

"Fascinating.  Tell me, Mr.  Cohen, who is going to be the first
director of the Remagen Foundation?"

"Professor Luigi Ferpozzi."

Both Lester's Bank and the Baron Group set new records the following
year as Richard established himself as a force on Wall Street and
Florentyna visited her hotels in the Middle East and Africa.  King
Erobo held a banquet in Florentyna's honor when she arrived in Nambawe,
and although she promised to build a hotel in the capital city she
wouldn't be drawn into an explanation of why Lester's had not been
among the banks involved with the king's latest international loan.

William had a good first year at St.  Paul's, showing the same flair
for math which his father had before him.  As they had been taught by
the same master, both father and son avoided asking for any comparison.
Annabel did not progress as quickly as William, ~lthough her teacher
had to admit she had improved even if she had fallen in love with Bob
Dylan.

"Who's he'?"  asked Florentyna.

"I don't know," said Richard, "but I'm told he's doing for Annabel
what

Sinatra did for you twenty-five years ago."

When Florentyna started her sixth year as chairman of the Group she
found she was beginning to repeat herself.  Richard seemed to find new
challenges a the time, while Gianni di Ferranti appeared to be well in
control of the chain of shops without bothering to ask her anything
other than where to send the checks.  The Baron Group was now so
efficient, and her management team so competent, that no one showed a
great deal of concern one morning when Florentyna didn't come into the
office.

That evening, when Richard was sitting in the crimson leather chair by
the fire reading The Billion Dollar Sure Thing, she expressed her
thoughts out loud.

I'll m bored."

Richard made no comment.

"It's time I did something with my life other than build on my father's
achievements," she added.

Richard smiled but didn't look up from his book.

"YOU'RE ALLOWED -I HREE GUESSES who this is."

"Am I given any clues?"  asked Florentyna, annoyed that she knew the
voice but couldn't quite place it.

"Good-looking, intelligent and a national idol."

"Paul NeA man."

"Feeble.  J ry again."

"Robert Redford.  "

"Worse still.  One more chance."

"I need another clue."

"Appalli%, at French, not much better at English and still in love with
you."

"Edward.  Edward Winchester.  A voice from the past-only you don't
sound as if you've changed a bit."

"Wishful thinking.  I'm over forty, and by the way, so will you be next
year."

"How can I be when I'm only twenty-four this year?"

"What, again?"

"No, I have been on ice for the last fifteen years."

"Not from what I've read about you.  You go from strength to strength.
"

"And how about you?"

"I'm a partner in a law firm in Chicago, Winston and Strawn."

"Married'?"

"No, I've decided to wait for you."

Florentyna laughed.  "If you've taken this long to phone and propose, I
should warn you that I've been married for fifteen years and I have a
son of fourteen and a daughter of twelve."

"All right then, I won't propose, but I would like to see you.  It's a
private matter."

"A private matter?  Sounds intriguing,"

"If I were to fly to New York one day next week, would you have lunch
with me?"

"I'd enjoy that."  Florentyna flicked over the pages of her calendar.
"How about next Tuesday?"

"Suits me Shall we say the Four Seasons, one o'clock?"

"I'll be there."

Florentyna put down the phone and sat back in her chair.  Other than

Christmas cards and the odd letter, she hadn't had much contact with

Edward for sixteen years.  She walked across to the mirror and studied
herself.  A few small lines were beginning to appear around the eyes
and mouth.  She turned sideways to confirm that she had kept her slim
figure.

She didn't feel old.  There was no denying that she had a daughter who
could already make young men stop in the street for a second glance,
and a teenage son she now had to look up to.  It wasn't fair; Richard
didn't look forty: a few white tufts appearing at the sides of the
temples and the hair perhaps a shade thinner than it had been, but he
was every bit as slim and vigorous as the day they had met.  She
admired the fact that he still found time to play squash at the Harvard
Club twice a week and practice the cello most weekends.  Edward's phone
call made her think of middle age for the first time; how morbid.  She
would be thinking of death next.  Thaddeus Cohen had died the previous
year~ only Kate Kane and

Zaphia remained of that generation.

Florentyna tried to touch her toes and couldn't, so she returned to the
monthly statements of the Baron Group for reassurance.  London was
still not paying its way, even though the hotel occupied one of the
finest sites in Mayfair.  Somehow the English seemed to combine
impossible wage demands with high unemployment and staff shortages all
at the same time.

In Riyadh they had had to clear out almost the entire management
because of theft, and in Poland the government would still not allow
the Group to take any exchangeable currency out of the country.  But
despite these minor problems, all of which could be ironed out by her
management team, the company was in good shape.

Florentyna had confidently assured Richard that the Baron Group profits
would be over forty-one million for 1974, whereas Lester's would be
lucky to touch eighteen million.  Richard, however, had predicted that
Lester's profits would pass the Baron Group's by 1974.  She feigned
disdain but knew that when it came to financial forecasts he was rarely
wrong.

Her thoughts floated back to Edward when the phone rang.  Gianni di

Ferranti wondered if she would like to see his new collection for the

Paris show, which put her old classmate out of her mind uivil one
o'clock the following Tuesday.

Florentyna arrived at the Four Seasons a few minutes after one, wearing
one of Gianni's new dresses in midi-length bottle green silk with a
sleeveless jacket over it.  She wondered if she would still recognize

Edward.  She walked up the wide staircase to find him waiting for her
on the top step.  She privately hoped she had aged as well as he had.

"Edward," she cried, "you haven't changed a bit."  He laughed.  "No,
no," mocked Florentyna, "I've always liked gray hair and the extra
weight suits you.  I wouldn't expect anything less of a distinguished
lawyer from my home town."

He kissed her on both cheeks like a French general and then she put her
ann through his and they followed the maitre d' through to their
table.

A bottle of champagne awaited them.

"Champagnt~.  How lovely.  What are we celebrating?"

"Just being with you again, my dear."  Edward noticed that Florentyna
secined to be lost in thought.  "Is something wrong?"  he inquired.

"No.  I was just remembering myself sitting on the floor at Girls
Latin, crying, while you tore the arm off Franklin D. Roosevelt and
then poured royal-blue ink over his head."

"You deson,ed it-you were a dreadful little show-off.  FDR didn't. Poor
little bear, is he still around?"

"Oh, yes.  He's taken up residence in my daughter's bedroom and as he
has managed to keep his remaining arm and both legs I can only
reluctantly conclude that Annabel handles young men better than I
did."

Edward laughed.  "Shall we order'?  I have so much to talk to you
about.

It's been fun following your career on the television and in the
papers, but I wanted to see if you've changed."

Florentyna ordered sairrion and a salad while Edward chose the prime
fib with asparagus.

"I'm intrigued."

"By what?"  asked Edward.

"Why a Chicago lawyer would fly all the way to New York just to see an
hotelier."

"I do not come as a Chicago lawyer and I have no interest in taWng to
an hotelier.  I come as treasurer of the Cook County Democratic Party.
"

"I gave one hundred thousand dollars to the Chicago Dem- R

ocr ats last year," said Florentyna.  "Mind you, Richard donated one
hundred thousand to the New York Republicans."

"I don't want your money, Florentyna, although I know you have
supported the Ninth District at every election.  It's you I want."

"That's a new line," she said, grinning.  "Men have stopped saying that
to me lately.  You know, Edward," she continued, her tone changing,
"I've been so overworked during the last few years, I've barely had
time to vote, let alone become personally involved.  What's more, since
Watergate

I found Nixon detestable, Agnew worse, and with Muskie a non runner I
was only left with George McGovern, who didn't exactly inspire me."

"But surely-"

"I also have a husband, two young children and a five hundred million
dollar company to run."

"And what are you going to do for the next.  twenty years?"

She smiled to herself.  "Turn it into a billion dollar company."

"In other words, just repeat yourself.  I agree with you that McGovern
and

Nixon-one was too good and the other too bad-and I don't see anyone on
the horizon who excites me."

"So now you want me to run for President in 'seventy-six?"

"No, I Aant you to run for Congress as the representative of the
Ninth

District of Illinois."

Florentyna dropped her fork.  "If I remember the job specification
coiTectly, it's an eighteen-hour day, forty-two thousand five hundred
dollars a year, no family life, and your constituents are allowed to be
as rude to you as they like, Worst of all, you are required to live in
the Ninth District of Illinois."

"That wouldn't be so bad.  The Baron is in the Ninth District, and
besides, it's just a stepping-stone,"

"To what?"

"To the Senate."

"When the whole state can be rude to you."

"And then the Presidency."

"When the rest of the world can join in.  Edward, this is not Girls
Latin and I don't have two lives, one which can run my hotels and
one-"

"And one in which you can give back some of what you have taken from
others."

"That was a bit rough, Edward."

"Yes, it certainly was.  I apologize.  But I have always believed you
could play a role in national politics, as you did once yourself, and I
feel the time is right, especially as I'm convinced that you haven't
changed."

"But I haven't been involved in politics at a grass-roots level, let
alone a national level, for years."

"Florentyna, you know as well as I do that most people in Congress have
neither your varied experience nor your intelligence.  That goes for
most

Presidents, come to think of it."

"I'm flattered, Edward, but not convinced."

"Well, I can tell you that a group of us in Chicago want you to come
home and run for the Ninth District.

"Henry Osborne's old seat?"

"Although the Democrats won it back in 'fifty-four, we have never had a
large enough majority to feel confident when we had to select a new
candidate to ward off any strong Republican challenge."

"Daley wants a Polish woman?"

"Daley wants the woman Time said ran behind only Jackie Kennedy and

Margaret Mead in the nation's esteem.  Daley likes winning."

"You're mad, Edward.  Who needs it?"

"I suspect you do, F lorentyna.  Just give me one day in your life;
come to Chicago and meet the people who want you.

Express in your own words how you feel about the future of our country.
Won't you at least do that for me?"

"All right, I'll consider it and call you in a few days.  But I warn
you,

Richard will think I'm nuts."

On that count Florentyna turned out to be wrong.  Richard had arrived
home late that night after a trip to Boston and he told her over
breakfast the next morning that she had been talking in her sleep.

"What did I sayT'

Richard stared at her.  "Something I have always suspected," he
replied.

"And what was that?"  ""I want to run."

Florentyna made no reply.

"Why did Edward want to see you for lunch so urgently?"

"He wants me to return to Chicago and run for Congress."

"So that's what brought it on.  Well, I think you should consider the
offer seriously, Jessie.  For a long time you've been critical of the
fact that competent women don't go into politics.  And you've always
been outspoken about the abilities of those who do enter public life.
Now you can stop complaining and do a little more about it other than
when elections come around."

"But what about the Baron Group?"

"The Rockefeller family managed to survive; no doubt the Kane family
will get by somehow.  In any case, the Group now employs twenty-seven
thousand people, so I imagine we can find ten men to take your
place."

"Thank you, Mr.  Kane.  But how do I live in Illinois while you're in
New

York?"

"That's easily solved.  I'll fly to Chicago every weekend.  Wednesday
nights you can fly to New York and now that we know that Carol will
never leave us, it shouldn't be too unsettling for the children.  When
you're elected, I'll take the shuttle down to Washington Wednesday
nights."

"You sound as though you've been thinking about this for some time,
Mr.

Kane."

Florentyna flew out to Chicago a week later and was met at O'Hare
Airport by Edward.  It was pouring and the wind was so strong that
Edward, tightly clutching a large umbrella with both hands, could not
protect her from the rain.

"Now I know why I wanted to come back to Chicago," she said as she
scampered into the car, cold and wet.  They were driven into the city
while Edward briefed her on the people she would meet.

"They're.  all party workers and faithful stalwarts who have only read
about you or have seen you on televisioH.  They'll be surprised to find
that you only have two arms, two legs and a head like any of them."

"How many do you expect to be at the meeting?"

"Around sixty.  Seventy would be exceptional."

"And all you want me to do is meet them and then say a few words about
my feelings on national affair sT

"Yes ."

"Then I can return home?"

"If that's what you want to do."

The car came to a halt outside the Cook County Democratic headquarters
on Randolph Street.  Florentyna was greeted by a Mrs.  Kalamich, a
plump, homely woman who led her to the main hall.  Florentyna was
shocked to find that it was packed with people, some standing at the
back.  As she walked in, they began to applaud.

"You told me there would only be a few people, Edward," she
whispered.

"I'm as surprised as you are.  I expected about seventy, not over three
hundred."

Florentyna suddenly felt nervous as she was introduced to the members
of the selection committee and then led on to the stage.  She sat next
to

Edward, aware of how cold the room was and how the hall was full of
people with hope in their eyes, people who enjoyed so few of the
privileges she experienced everyday.  How different this room was from
her own boardroom, full of men in Brooks Brothers suits who ordered
martinis before dinner.  For the first time in her life she felt
embarrassed by her wealth and hoped it didn't show.

Edward rose from his chair in the center of the platform,

"Ladies and gentlemen, it is my privilege tonight to introduce a woman
who has gained the respect and admiration of the American people.  She
has helped build one of the largest financial empires in the world and
I believe she could now build a political career of the same
dimensions.

I hope she will launch that career in this room tonight.  Ladies and
gentlemen, Mrs.  Florentyna Kane."

Florentyna rose nervously to her feet.  She began to wish she had spent
more time preparing her speech.

"Thank you, Mr.  Winchester, for your kind words.  It's wonderful to be
back in Chicago, my home town, and I appreciate so in any of you
turning out for me on this cold, wet night.  I, like you, feel let down
by the political leaders of the day.  I believe in a strong America and
if I were to enter the political arena I would dedicate myself to those
words Franklin D. Roosevelt said in this city over thirty years ago:
"There can be no greater calling than public service."

"My father came to Chicago as an immigrant from Poland and only in

America could he have achieved the success he did.  Each of us must
play our role in the destiny of the country we love and I shall always
remember your kindness in inviting me to be considered as your
candidate.

Be assured that I shall not make my final decision lightly.  I have not
come with a long prepared speech as I would prefer to answer any
questions you consider important."

She sat down and three hundred people applauded enthusiastically.  When
the noise had died down, Florentyna answered questions on subjects
ranging from the U.S. bombing of Cambodia to legalized abortion, from

Watergate to the energy crisis.  It was the first time she had attended
any meeting without all the facts and figures at her fingertips and she
was surprised to find how strongly she felt on so many issues.  After
she had an'wered the final question, over an hour later, the crowd rose
and started chanting "Kane for Congress," refusing to stop until she
left the platform.  It was one of those rare moments in her life when
she wasn't sure what to do next.  Edward came to her rescue.

"I knew they would love you," said Edward, obviously delighted.

"But I was awful," she shouted back above the noise.

"Then I can't wait to find out what you're like when you're good.  "

Edward guided her off the platform as the crowd surged forward.  A pale
man in a wheelchair managed to touch her arm.  She turned.

"This is Sam," said Edward.  "Sam Hendrick.  He lost both his legs in

Vietnam."

"Mrs.  Kane," he said.  "You won't remember me; we once licked
envelopes together in this hall for Stevenson.  If you decide to run
for Congress, my wife and I will work night and day to see you are
elected.  Many of us in Chicago have long believed you would come home
and represent us."  His wife, who stood behind the chair, nodded and
smiled.

"Thank you," said Florentyna.  She turned and tried to walk to the
exit, but it was blocked by the outstretched hands of the well-wishers.
She was stopped again at the door, this time by a girl of about
twenty-five who told her, "I lived in your old room in Whitman at
Radcliffe and, like you, once stood in Soldier Field and listened to
President Kennedy.

America needs another Kennedy.  Why shouldn't it be a woman?"

Florentyna stared at the eager, intense young face.  "I've graduated
and work in Chicago now," the girl continued, "but the day you run, a
thousand students from Illinois will be on the streets to see that you
are elected."

Florentyna tried to ask her her name but was pushed on by the crowd. At
last Edward managed to bustle her through the throng and into a waiting
car, which drove them back to the airport.  She, didn't speak during
the journey When they arrived at O'Hare, the black chauffeur jumped out
and opened the door for her.  She thanked him.

"It's a pleasure, Mrs.  Kane.  I want to thank you for the stand you
took on behalf of my people in the South.  We won't forget that you led
our struggle for equal pay and every hotel group in the country had to
follow you.  I hope you're now going to give me the chance to vote for
you."

"Thank you again," said Flornentyna, smiling.

Edward took her to the terminal and guided her to the departure gate.

"Made your flight in good time.  Thank you for coming, Florentyna.
Please let me know when you've made up your mind."  He paused, "if you
feel you can't go ahead with the nomination, I'll always understand."
He kissed her lightly on the cheek and left.

On the flight back, florentyna sat alone thinking about what had
happened that night and how unprepared she had been for such a
demonstration of good will.  She wished her father could have been in
the hall to witness it.

A stewardess asked for her drink order.

"Nothing.  thank you."

"Is there anything else I can do for you, Mrs.  Kane?"

Florentyna looked up, surprised that the young girl knew her name.

"I used to work in one of your hotels."

"Which one?"  asked Florentyna.

"The Detroit Baron.  Barons would always be the most popular choice for
stewardesses.  If only America was governed the way you run your
hotels, we wouldn't be in the trouble we're in now," she said before
moving on down the aisle.

Florentyna flicked through a copy of Newsweek.  Under the headline "How
far does Watergate go?"  she studied the faces of Ehrlichman, Haldeman
and

Dean before closing the magazine.  On the cover was a picture of
Richard

Nixon and the caption "When was the President told?"

A little after midnight, she arrived back at East Sixty-fourth
Street.

Richard was sitting up in the crimson chair by the fire.  He rose to
greet her.

"Well, did they ask you to run for President of the United States?"

"No, but how do you feel about Congresswoman Kane?"

Florentyna phoned Edward the next day.  "I am willing to put my name
forward as the Democratic candidate for Congress," she said.

"Thank you.  I ought to try and express my thoughts more fully, but for
now-thank you."

"Edward, may I know who would have been the candidate if I had said
no?"

"They were pushing me to run myself.  But I told them I

had a better (andidate in mind.  As I'm certain this time around you'll
take advice, even if you become President."

"I never did become class president."

"I did, and I've still ended up serving you."

"Where do I start, coach?"

"The primary is in three months, so you'd better reserve every weekend
between now and the fall."

I already have starting this weekend-and can you tell me who was the
young woman from Radcliffe who stopped me at the door and talked about
Kennedy?"

"Janet Brown.  In spite of her age, she's already one of the most
respected case workers in the city's Human Services department."

"Do you have her phone number?"

During the week Florentyna informed the Baron board of directors of her
decision.  They appointed Richard co-chairman of the Group and elected
two new directors.

Florentyna called Janet Brown and offered her a job as her full-time
political assistant and was delighted by Janet's immediate acceptance.
She then added two new secretaries to her staff for political work
only.

Finally, she called the Chicago Baron and instructed them to leave the
thirty-eighth floor free, warning them she would need the entire floor
left at her disposal for at least a year.

"Taking it seriously, aren't we?"  said Richard later that evening.

"Indeed I am, because I'm going to have to work very hard if you're
ever going to be the First Gentleman."

"ARE you EXPECTING MUCH OPPOSITION?"

"Nothing of real consequence," said Edward.  "There may be a protest
candidate or two, but as the committee is fully behind you, the real
fight should be with the Republicans."

"Do we know who their candidate is likely to be?"

"Not yet.  My spies tell me it's between two men, Ray Buck, who seems
to be the choice of the retiring member, and Stewart Lyle, who served
on the

City Council for the past eight years.  They'll both run a good
campaign, but that's not our immediate problem, With so little time
left, we must concentrate on the Democratic primary."

"How many people do you think will vote in the primary?"  asked

Florentyna.

"Can't be certain.  All we do know is that there are roughly a hundred
and fifty thousand registered Democrats and that the turnout is usually
between forty-five and fifty percent, So that would point to around
seventy or eighty thousand."

Edward unfolded a large map of Chicago and placed it in front of

Florentyna.

"The boundaries of the constituency are marked in red and run from
East

Chicago Avenue in the south to the Evanston border in the north, from

Ravenswood and Northwest Highway in the west to the lake in the
east."

"The district hasn't changed since the days of Henry Osborne," said

Florentyna, "so it should all come back to me very quickly."

"Let's hope so, because our main task is to see that every Democrat in
that area is aware of who you are through the press, advertising,
television and public appearances.  Whenever they open their newspaper,
turn on the radio or watch TV

Florentyna Kane must be with them.  The voters must feel you are
everywhere and they must believe your only interest is in them.  In
fact, there can be no major function in Chicago between now and March
nineteenth at which you are not present."

"Suits me," said Florentyna.  "I've already set up my campaign
headquarters in the Chicago Baron, which my father had the foresight to
build at the heart of the district.  I propose to spend weekends here
and any free days during the week at home with my family, so where do
you want me to start?"

"I've called a press conference for next Monday, to be held at
Democrat~c headquarters.  A short speech followed by a
question-and-answer session and then we'll serve them coffee so you can
me,--t all the key people individually.  As you enjoy thinking fast on
your feet, you should relish meeting the press."

"Any particular advice?"

"No, just be yourself."

"You may live to regret that."

Edward's judgment turned out to be right.  After Florentyna had made a
short opening statement the questions came thick and fast.  Under his
breath, Edward whispered the names of the various journalists as each
rose to his feet.

The first was Mike Royko, of the Chicago Daily News.

"Why do you think it appropriate that a New York millionairess should
run for the Ninth District of Illinois?"

"In this context," said Florentyna, standing to take the questions, "I
am not a New York millionairess.  I was born in St.  Luke's General

Hospital and brought up on Rigg Street.  My father, who came to this
country with nothing but the clothes he wore, founded the Baron Group
right here in the Ninth District.  I believe we must always fight to
ensure that any immigrant arriving on our shores today, whether he be
from Vietnam or Poland, has the opportunity to achieve the same goals
as my father did."

Edward pointed to another journalist for the next question.

"Do you consider it a disadvantage to be a woman when seeking public
office?"

"Perhaps to a limited or ill-informed person I would have to answer
yes, but not with any intelligent voter who puts the issues before
outdated prejudices.  Which of you if involved in a traffic accident on
the way home today would think twice if the first doctor on the scene
turned out to be a woman?  I hope the issue of sex will soon be as
irrelevant as that of religion.  It seems a century ago that people
asked John F. Kennedy if he thought the Presidency might change because
he was a Roman Catholic.

I notice nowadays the question never arises with Teddy Kennedy.  Women
are already playing leading roles in other nations.  Golda Meir in
Israel and

Indira Gandhi in India are just two examples.  I consider it sad that
in a nation of two hundred and thirty million people, women number not
one of the hundred senators and only sixteen out of the four hundred
and thirty-four members of Congress."

"What does your husband feel about you wearing the trousers in your
family?"  demanded an unsolicited questioner.  Laughter broke out in
certain parts of the room and Florentyna waited for complete silence.

"He's far too intelligent and successful for such a pathetic question
to occur to him."

"What is your attitude on Watergate?"

"A sad episode in American political history which I hope will be
behind us before too long but not forgotten."

"Do you feel President Nixon should resign?"

"That's a moral decision for the President to make himself."

"Would you resign if you were President?"

"I wouldn't have to break into any hotels.  I already own one hundred
and forty-three."  A burst of laughter followed by applkuse gave
Florentyna a little more confidence.

"Do you think the President should be impeached?"

"That's a question Congress will have to decide based on the evidence
the

Judiciary Committee is considering, including the White House tapes
if

President Nixon ever releases them.  But no American can fail to have
been moved by the resignation of the Attorney General, Elliot
Richardson, a man whose integrity has never been in question."

"Where do you stand on abortion?"  I shall not fall into the trap that
Senator Mason did only last week when asked the same question, to which
he replied, "Gentlemen, that one's below the belt.  "' Florentyna
waited for the laughter to die down before saying in a more serious
tone.  "I am a Roman Catholic by birth and upbringing, so I feel
strongly about the protection of the unborn child.

However, I also believe there are situations in which it is either
necessary and indeed morally correct for a qualified doctor to carry
out an abortion."

"Can you give an example?"

"Rape would be an obvious one, and also in a case where the mother's
health is in danger."

"Isn't that against the teachings of your church?"

"That is correct, but I have always believed in the separation of
church and state.  Any person who runs for public office must be
willing to take stands on certain issues that will not please all of
1he people all of the time.  I think Edmund Burke summed it up better
than I could hope to do when he said, "Your representative owes you,
not his industry only, but his judgment, and he betrays instead of
serving you, if he sacrifices it to your opinion."

Edward sensed the effect of the last-statement and promptly rose from
his chair.  "Well, ladies and gentlemen of the press, I think the time
has come to adjourn for coffee, which will give you an opportunity to
meet

Fiorentyna Kane personally although I am sure by now you know why we
feel she is the right person to represent the Ninth District in
Congress."

For the next hour, Florentyna faced a further barrage of personal and
political questions, some of which, had they been put to her in the
privacy of her own home, she would have found objectionable, but she
was quickly learning that one cannot be a public figure and hope to
maintain a private stance on anything.  When the last journalist had
left, she collapsed into a chair, not even having had the time to drink
one cup of coffee.

"You well-great," said Janet Brown.  "Didn't you think so, Mr.

Winchester?"

Edward smiled.  "Good, not great, but I blame myself for not warning
you about the difference between being chairman of a private k,ompany
and running for public office."

"What are you getting at?"  asked Florentyna, surprised.

"Some of those journalists are very powerful and they talk to hundreds
of thousands of people every day through their columns.  Th'y want to
tell their readers that they know you personally and once or twice you
were just a little too aloof.  And with the man from the Tribune you
were just plain rude,"

"Was that the man who asked about who wore the trousers?"

"Yes .

"What was I supposed to say?"

"Turn it into a joke."

"It wasn't funny, Edward, and it was he who was rude."

"Possibly, but he's not the one who's running for public office and you
are, so he can say what he likes.  And don't ever forget hts column is
read by more than five hundred thousand people in Chicago every day
including most of your constituents."

"So you want me to compromise myself?"

"No, I want you to get elected.  When you're in the House, you can
prove to everyone that they were right in voting for you.  But just now
you're an unknown commodity with a lot going against you.  You're a
woman, you're

Polish and you're a millionairess.  That combination is going to arouse
just about every form of prejudice or jealousy in most ordinary
people.

The way to counter those feelings is always to appear humorous, kind
and interested in people who do not share the privileges you have."

"Edward, it's not me who should be running for public office, it's
you."

Edward sb)ok his head.  "I know you're the right person, Florentyna,
but

I realize now that it will take a little time for you to adjust to your
new environment.  Thank God you've always been a quick learner.  By the
way, I don't disagree with the sentiments you voiced so vociferously,
but as you seem to like quoting statesmen of the past, don't forget

Jefferson's comment to Adams: "You can't lose votes with a speech you
didn't make."

Again Edward turned out to be right: the press the next day gave

Florentyna a mixed reception, and the Tribune reporter called her the
worst sort of opportunistic carpetbagger he had ever had the misfortune
to come across on the political trail surely Chicago could find a local
person?  Otherwise he would have to recommend for the first time that
his readers vote Republican.  Florentyna was horrified and adjusted
quickly to the fact that a journalist's ego was sometimes more
sensitive than a politician's.  She settled down to working several
days a week in Chicago, meeting people, talking to the press, appearing
on television, fund raising and then going over it all again whenever
she saw Richard.  Even

Edward was beginning to feel confident that the tide was turning her
way, when the first blow came.

"Ralph Brooks?  Who on earth is Ralph Brooks?"  asked Florentyna.

"A local lawyer, very bright and very ambitious.  I'd always thought
his sights were set on the State Attorney's office en route to the
federal bench, but it seems I'm wrong.  I wonder who put him up to
this?"

"Is he a serious candidate?"  Florentyna asked.

"He certainly is.  A local boy, educated at the University of Chicago
before going on to Yale Law School."

"Age?"  asked Florentyna.

"Late thirties."

"And of course he's good-looking?"

"Very," said Edward.  "When he rises in court every woman on the jury
wants him to win.  I always avoid opposing him if I can."

"Does this Olympian have any disadvantages?"

"Naturally.  Any man who has been a lawyer in this city is bound to
have made a few enemies and I know for certain Mayor Daley won't be
overjoyed about his entry into the race, since Ralph Brooks is an
obvious rival for his son."

"What am I expected to do about him?"

"Nothing," said Edward.  "When asked, you simply give the standard
answer: say it's democracy at work and may the best man-or
woman-win."

"He's left himself with only five weeks before the primary."

"Sometimes that's a clever tactic; he'll hope you've run out of
steam.

The one good thing to come out of this is that Mr.  Brooks will have
killed off any complacency among our workers.  Everyone will now know
they have a fight on their hands, which will be good training for when
we face the Republicans."

Florentyna was reassured that Edward still sounded confident, although
he confided in Janet Brown later that it was going to be one hell of a
fight.  During the next few weeks Florentyna learned just how much of a
fight.  Everywhere she went, Ralph Brooks seemed to have been there
just before her.  Every time she made a press statement on a major
issue,

Brooks had given his opinion the night before.  But as the day of the
primary drew nearer.  she learned to play Brooks at his own game, and
beat him at it.  However, just at the point when the opinion polls
showed she was holding her lead, he played an ace that Florentyna
hadn't foreseen,

She read the details on the front page of the Chicago Tribune.

"Brooks Challenges Kane to Debate" ran the headline.  She knew that
with all his court experience and practice at crossexamination he was
bound to be a formidable opponent.  Within minutes after the paper hit
the streets, the phone in Florentyna's headquarters was besieged with
queries from the press.  Would she accept the dhallenge?  Was she
avoiding Brooks?

Didn't the people of Chicago have the right to see both candidates
debate the issues?  Janet held them off while Florentyna held a hasty
conference with Edward.  It lasted for three minutes, during which
Florentyna wrote out a statement for Janet to read to all inquirers.

"Florentyna Kane is delighted to accept the invitation to debate
Ralph

Brooks and looks forward to the encounter."

During the week, Edward appointed a representative to consult with

Brooks's campaign manager in determining the time and place for the
debate.

The Thursday before the primary was the date agreed to by both sides;
the venue was to be the Bernard Horwich Jewish Community Center on
West

Touhy.  Once the local CBS-TV affiliate had agreed to cover the debate,
both candidates knew that the outcome of the election might well depend
on the confrontation.  Florentyna spent days preparing her speech and
answering questions shot at her by Edward, Janet and Richard.  It
brought back memories of Miss Tredgold and their preparation for the
Woolson

Prize Scholarship.

On the night of the debate every seat in the Community Center was
taken.

People were standing at the back while others sat on windowsills.
Richard had flown in from New York and he and Florentyna arrived a
half-hour before the debate was to begin.  She then went through the
ordeal of television makeup while Richard found himself a seat in the
front row.

She was greeted by warm applause as she entered the room and took her
seat on the stage.  Ralph Brooks arrived moments later to equally
enthusiastic applause.  He pushed back his hair rather self-consciously
as he strode across the floor.  No woman in the hall took her eyes from
him, including Florentyna.  The chairman of the Ninth District
Democratic

Congressional Committee welcomed them both before taking them to one
side to remind them that they would each make an opening speech, which
would be followed by a question-and-answer session, and then they would
be invited to make a closing statement.  They both nodded; the chairman
had only repeated what had been agreed to by the two candidates'
representatives days before.  He then took a new-half-dollar from his
pocket, and Florentyna stared at the head of John Kennedy.  The
chairman spun the coin and she called heads.  Kennedy looked up at her
again.

"I'll speak second," she said, not even hesitating.

Without another word, they walked back onto the stage.  Florentyna took
a seat on the right of Edward, and Ralph Brooks sat on his left.  At
eight o'clock, the moderator banged the gavel and called the meeting to
order.

"Mr.  Brooks will address you first and then Mrs.  Kane will speak."

Ralph Brooks rose and Florentyna stared up at the tall, handsome man.
She had to admit it: if a film director had been casting for the role
of

President, Ralph Brooks would be given the part.  From the moment he
started to speak, Florentyna was in no doubt that she would not have to
travel beyond Chicago to face a more formidable rival.  Brooks was
relaxed and assured, his delivery was professional without sounding
glib.

"Ladies and gentlemen, fellow Democrats," he began.  "I stand before
you tonight, a local man who has made his way in life right here in
Chicago.

My great-grandfather was born in this city and for four generations
the

Brooks family have practiced law from our offices on La Salle Street,
always serving this community to the best of our ability.  I offer
myself today as your candidate for Congress in the belief that
representatives of the people should always come from the grass roots
of their community.

I do not have the vast wealth that is at the disposal of my opponent,
but

I bring a dedication to and care for this district that I hope you will
feel surpasses wealth."  There was an outburst of applause, but
Florentyna could see several people who were not joining in.  "On the
issues of crime prevention, housing, public transportation and health,
I have for several years sought to promote public good in the courts of
Chicago.  I now seek the opportunity to promote your interests in the
United States House of

Representatives."

Florentyna listened intently to each well-delivered word and was not
surprised when Brooks sat down to applause that was loud and
sustained.

The chairman rose to make Florentyna's introduction.  And when he
finished, she stood up-and wanted to run out of the hall.  Richard
smiled up at her from the front row and she regained her confidence.

"My father came to America over fifty years ago," she began, "having
escaped first from the Germans and then from the Russians.  After
educating himself in New York he came to Chicago, where he founded the
hotel group of which I have the privilege of being chairman, right here
in the Ninth District of this city.  A group that now employs
twenty-seven thousand people in every state in America.  When that
career was at its zenith, my father left this country to fight the
Germans again and he returned to America with a Bronze Star.  I was
born in this city and went to high school not a mile from this hall, a
Chicago education that made it possible for me to go to college.  Now I
have returned home wanting to represent the people who made my American
dream possible."

Loud applause greeted Florentyna's words, but she noticed once again
that several people did not join in.  "I hope I will not be prevented
from holding office because I was born with wealth.  If that were to be
a disqualification, Jefferson, Roosevelt and Kennedy would never have
held office.  I hope I will not be prevented because my father was an
immigrant.  If that were the case, then one of the greatest mayors this
community has ever known, Anton Cermak, would never have worked in City
Hall, and if I am to be prevented because I am a woman, then half the
population of America must be disqualified along with me."  This was
greeted with loud applause from all parts of the hall.

Florentyna drew a deep breath.

"I do not apologize for being the daughter of an immigrant.  I do not
apologize for being wealthy.  I do not apologize for being a woman and
I will never be apologetic about wanting to represent the people of
Chicago in the United States Congress."  The applause was deafening.
"If it is not my destiny to represent you, I shall support Mr.  Brooks.
If, on the other hand, I have the honor of being selected to be your
candidate, you can be assured that I shall tackle the problems that
Chicago faces with the same dedication and energy I put into making my
company one of the most successful hotel groups in the world.  "

Florentyna sat down to continuing applause and looked toward her
husband, who was smiling.  She relaxed for the first time and stared
into the hall, where some people even stood to applaud although she was
only too aware most of them were on her staff.  She checked her watch:
8:28.  She had timed it perfectly.  That week's "Laugh-In" was due on
TV and the Chicago Black

Hawks would be warming up on another channel.  There would be a lot of
changing of channels in the next few minutes.  Judging by the frown on
Ralph

Brooks's face, he was equally aware of the scheduling.

After questions-which brought no surprises-and the closing
statements,

Florentyna and Richard left the hall surrounded by well-wishers and
returned to their room at the Baron.  They waited nervously for a
bellboy to deliver the first edition of the papers.  The overall
verdict was in favor of Florentyna.  Even the Tribune said it had been
a very close-run affair.

During the last three days of the campaign before the primary,
Florentyna pounded pavement, pressed flesh and walked the entire length
of Michigan

Avenue.  She collapsed into a hot bath every night.  She was wakened
by

Richard each morning with a hot cup of coffee, after which she started
the whole mad process over again.

"The great day has at last arrived," said Richard.

"Not a moment too soon," said Florentyna.  "I'm not sure my legs can go
through anything like this ever again."

"Have no fear.  All will be revealed tonight," said Richard from behind
a copy of Fortune.

Florentyna rose and dressed in a simple blue suit of a noncreasable
fabric-although she would feel crumpled at the end of the day.  She put
on what Miss Tredgold would have called sensible shoes, having already
worn out two pairs on the campaign trail.  After breakfast, she and
Richard walked down to the local school.  She cast her vote for
Florentyna Kane.

It felt strange.  Richard as a registered New York Republican remained
outside.

In a heavier turnout than Edward had predicted, 49,132 other people
voted for Florentyna that day, while 42,972 had voted for Ralph
Brooks.

Florentyna Kane had won her first election.

The GOP candidate turned out to be Stewart Lyle, who was an easier
opponent than Ralph Brooks.  He was an old-fashioned Republican who was
always charming and courteous and who did not believe in personal
confrontation.  Florentyna liked him from the day they met and had no
doubt that, if elected, he would have represented the district with
compassion, but after Nixon had resigned on August 9 and Ford had
pardoned the ex-President, the Democrats looked set for a landslide
win.

Florentyna was among those elected on the bandwagon.  She captured
the

Ninth District of Illinois with a plurality of over 27,000 votes.
Richard was the first to congratulate her.

"I'm so proud of you, my darling."  He smiled mischievously.  "Mind
you,

I'm sure Mark Twain would have been as well."

"Why Mark Twain?"  asked Florentyna puzzled.

"Because it was he who said: "Suppose you were an idiot and suppose you
were a member of Congress.  But I repeat myself.  "'

WILLIAM AND ANNABEL JOINED THEIR FATHER and mother for Christmas at
the

Kane family house on Cape Cod.  Florentyna enjoyed having the children
around her for the festivities and quickly they recharged all her human
batteries.

William, nearly fifteen, was already talking about going to Harvard and
spent every afternoon poring over math books that even Richard didn't
understand.  Annabel spent most of her holiday on the phone talking
long distance about boys to different school friends until Richard
finally had to explain to her how the Bell Telephone Company made its
money.  Florentyna read James Michener's Centennial and under pressure
from her daughter listened to Roberta Flack singing "Killing Me Softly
with His Song" loudly, again and again.  Richard got so sick of the
record he begged Annabel to turn the damn thing over.  She did, and for
the first time Richard listened to a popular record he knew he would
enjoy for the rest of his life.

Annabel was puzzled when she saw her mother smile at the lyrics her
father seemed entranced by:

Jesse, come home, there's a hole in the bed Where we slept.

Now it's growing cold.

Hey, Jesse .. . All the blues .. .

When the Christmas vacation came to an end, Florentyna flew back to
New

York with Richard.  It took her a week of going over reports on the
Baron

Group and being briefed by the heads of each department before she felt
she had been brought up to date.

During the year the Group had completed hotels in Brisbane and
Johannesburg and had begun refurbishing old Barons in

Nashville and Cleveland.  In Florentyna's absence, Richard had slowed
the forward planning program down a little but had still managed to
increase the profits to a record $31 million for the year.  Florentyna
was in no position to complain as Lester's was on target to show a
massive increase in the profit column that year.

Florentyna's only anxiety was that Richard, for the first time in his
life, was beginning to look his age: lines were appearing on his
forehead and around his eyes which could have resulted only from
continual and considerable stress.  Even his cello practice seemed less
frequent.  When she taxed him with working uncivilized hours, he chided
her that it was a hard road to toil when one wanted to be First
Gentleman.

Congresswoman Kane flew into Washington in early January.  She had
sent

Janet Brown on to the capital in December to head up her congressional
staff, and when Florentyna joined her, everything seemed to be
organized, down to the George Novak Suite at the Washington Baron.
Janet had made herself indispensable during the last months and
Florentyna was well prepared when the first session of the 94th
Congress was ready to open.

Janet had allocated the $227,270 a year each House member was permitted
for the staffing of an office.  She chose carefully from the many
applicants, keeping the emphasis on competence whatever a person's
age.

She had appointed a personal secretary for Florentyna named Louise

Drummond, a legislative assistant, a press secretary, four legislative
correspondents to research issues as well as to handle mail, two
secretaries and a receptionist.  In addition, Florentyna had left three
staff workers in her district office under a capable Polish field
representative.

Florentyna had been assigned rooms on the seventh floor of the
Longworth

Building, the oldest and middle of the three House buildings.  Janet
told her that her office had been occupied in the past by Lyndon
Johnson, John

Lindsay and Pete McCloskey.  ""Hear no evil, see no evil, speak no
evil," she commented.  Florentyna's office suite was only two hundred
yards from the Capitol and she could always go directly to the chamber
on the little subway if the weather was inclement or if she wished to
avoid the ubiquitous herded groups of Washington sightseers.

Florentyna's personal office was a modest-sized room already cluttered
with massive brown congressional furniture, a wooden desk, a large
brown leather sofa, several dark, uncomfortable chairs and two
glass-fronted cabinets.  From the way the office had been left, it was
easy to believe that the previous occupant had been male.

Florentyna quickly filled the bookcases with her copies of the U.S.
Code, the Rules of the House, the Hurd Annotated Illinois Revised
Statutes and

Carl Sandburg's three-volume biography of Lincoln, one of her favorite
works despite his party.  She then hung some water colors of her own
choice on the drab cream walls in an effort to cover the nail holes
left by the previous tenant.  On her desk she placed a family
photograph taken outside her first store in San Francisco and when she
discovered that each member of Congress was entitled to plants from the
Botanic Gardens, she instructed Janet to claim their maximum allotment
as well as arranging for fresh flowers on her desk every Monday.

Florentyna disliked the way most of her colleagues filled their
reception areas with self-laudatory memorabilia.  She asked Janet to
decorate the front office in a way that was both welcoming and
dignified; under no circumstance were there to be any portraits of her
on view.  She reluctantly agreed to place the flag of Illinois and the
United States flag behind her desk.

On the afternoon before Congress convened, Florentyna held a reception
for her family and campaign workers.  Richard and Kate flew down with
the children and Edward accompanied Florentyna's mother and Father
O'Reilly from Chicago.  Florentyna had sent out nearly one hundred
invitations to friends and supporters all over the country and to her
surprise more than seventy people turned up.

During the celebration she took Edward aside and invited him to join
the board of the Baron Group; full of champagne, he accepted and then
forgot about the offer until he received a letter from Richard
confirming the appointment and adding that it would be valuable for
Florentyna to have two boardroom views to con'ider while she
concentrated on her political career.

When Richard and Florentyna climbed into yet another Baron king-size
bed the night of the reception, he told her once again how proud he was
of her achievement.

"I couldn't have done it without your support, Mr.  Kane."  "There was
no suggestion that I supported you, Jessie, though I reluctantly admit
to gaining considerable pleasure from your victory.  Now

I must catch up with the Group's European forecasts before I switch off
the light on my side of the bed."

"I do wish you would slow down a bit, Richard."

"I can't, my darling.  Neither of us can.  That's why we're so good for
each other."

"Am I good for you?"  asked Florentyna.

"In a word, no.  If I could have it all back, I would have married
Maisie and saved the money on several pairs of gloves."

"Good God, I wonder what Maisie is up to nowadays."

"Still in Bloomingdale's.  Having given up any hope of catching me, she
married a traveling salesman, so I suppose I'm stuck with you.  Now
can

I get down to reading this report?"

She took the report out of his hand and dropped it on the floor.

"No, darling."

When the first session of the 94th Congress opened, Speaker Carl
Albert, dressed somberly in a dark suit, took his place on the podium
and banged his gavel as he gazed down into the semicircle of members
seated in their green leather chairs.  Florentyna turned in her seat
and smiled up at

Richard and her family, who had been allocated places in the gallery
above.  When she looked around the chamber at her colleagues, she
couldn't help thinking that they were the worst-dressed group of people
she had ever seen in her life.  Her bright-red wool suit, in the latest
midi fashion, made her conspicuous by exception.

The Speaker asked the House chaplain, the Reverend Edward Latch, to
pronounce the benediction.  This was followed by an opening speech by
the leaders of both parties and an address by the Speaker.  Mr.  Albert
reminded all the congressmen that they should keep their speeches brief
and to refrain from making too much noise in the chamber while others
were on the podium.  He then adjourned the session and everyone broke
to attend some of the dozens of receptions given on the opening day.
"is that all you have to do, Mummy?"  asked Annabel.

Florentyna laughed.  "No, darling, that's just the opening session.
1The real work starts tomorrow."

Even Florentyna was surprised the next morning.  Her mail contained one
hundred and sixty-one items, including out-of date Chicago papers,
six

"Dear Colleague" letters, from congressmen she had yet to meet,
fourteen invitations to trade association receptions, seven letters
from special-interest groups, several invitations to address
meetings-some out of Chicago and Washington-three dozen letters from
constituents, two requests to be placed on her mailing list, fifteen
r6sum6s from hopeful job-seekers and a note from Carl Albert to say
that she had been placed on the Appropriations and Small Business
committees.

The mail looked manageable compared with the ceaseless telephone
demands for everything from Florentyna's official photograph to press
interviews.

The Washington reporters from the Chicago papers called regularly and

Florentyna was also contacted by the local Washington press, who were
always intrigued by new female additions to Congress, especially those
who did not resemble a heavyweight boxer.  Florentyna quickly learned
the names she should know, including Maxine Cheshire and Betty Beale,
David Broder and Joe Alsop.  Before the end of March she had been the
subject of a front-page "Style" interview in the Post and had appeared
in Washingtonian

Magazine's "New Stars on the Hill."  She turned down continual
invitations to appear on "Panorama" and began to question where the
proper balance lay between gaining visibility, which would be of use in
influencing issues, and losing all her free time to the media.

During those first weeks, Flornentyna seemed to do nothing except run v
cry fast trying to remain on the same spot.  She considered herself
fortunate to be the Illinois delegation's choice for a vacancy on the
powerful Appropriations Committee, the first freshman in years to be so
honored, but discovered nothing had been left to chance when she opened
a scrawled note from

Mayor Daley which simply read, "You owe me one."

Florentyna found her new world fascinating, but it felt rather like
being back at school as she searched the corridors for committee rooms,
sprinted to the subway to the Capitol to record her vote, met with
lobbyists, studied briefing books and signed dozens of letters.  The
idea of getting a signature machine grew increasingly appealing.

An elderly Democratic colleague from Chicago advised her on the wisdom
of sending out a constituent newsletter to her 180,000 households every
two months.  "Remember, my dear," he added, "it may appear as though
you are doing nothing more than papering the Ninth District, but there
are only three ways of assuring your re-election: the frank, the frank
and the frank."

He also advised Florentyna to assign two of her district staffers to
clip every article from the local newspapers that referred to a
constituent.

Voters began receiving congratulations on their weddings, births,
community achievement sand even ba,;ketball victories now that
eighteen-year-olds had the vote.  Florentyna always added a personal
word or two in

Polish where appropriate, thankful that her mother had not always
obeyt-d her father's every word.

With the help of Janet, who was always in the office before her and
still there when she left, Florentyna slowly got on top of the paper
work, and by the July 4 recess she was almost in control.  She had not
yet spoken on the floor and had said very little in any committee
hearings.  Sandra

Read, a House colleague from New York, had advised her to spend the
first six months listening, the second six months thinking and the
third six months speaking occasionally.

"What about the fourth six months?"  asked Florentyna.

"You'll be campaigning for re-election," came the reply.

On weekends she would regale Richard with stories of the bureaucratic
waste of the taxpayers' money and the lunatic way America's democratic
system was conducted.

"I thought you had been elected to change all that," he said, looking
down at his wife, who was sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of
him, clutching her knees.

"It will take twenty years to change anything.  Are you aware that
committees make decisions involving millions of dollars but half the
members haven't the slightest idea what they're voting on and the other
half don't even attend but vote by proxy."

"Then you will have to become chairman of a committee, and see to it
that your members do their homework and attend hearings."" can't.

"What do you mean, you can't?"  asked Richard, finally folding his
morning newspaper.

"You can only become the chairman of a committee by seniority, so it's
irrelevant when you reach the peak of your mental prowess.  If there is
someone who has been on the committee longer than you, he automatically
gets the job.  At this moment, of twenty-two standing committees, there
are three committee chairmen in their seventies, thirteen in their
sixties, which leaves only six under sixty.  I've worked out that I
will become chairman of the Appropriations Committee on my sixty-eighth
birthday, having served twenty-eight years in the House. That is if I
win the thirteen elections in between, because if you lose one, you
start over.  It's taken me only a few weeks to work out why so many
southern states elect freshmen to Congress who are under thirty. If we
ran the

Bar-on Group the way Congress is run, we'd have been bankrupt long ago.
"

FloTentyna was slowly coming to accept the fact that it would take
years to reach the top of the political tree, and the truth was that
the climb consisted of a long, hard grind, known as .1 serving your
time."  "Go along and get along," was the way her committee chairman
put it.  She decided that if it was going to be any different for her,
she would have to turn the disadvantage of tieing a freshman into the
advantage of being a woman.

It happened in a way she could never have planned.  She did not speak
on the House floor for the first six months, although she had sat in
her seat for hours watching how the debates were.  conducted and
learning from those who used their limited speaking time with skill.
When a distinguished Republican, Robert C. L. Buchanan, announced he
would be proposing an anti-abortion amendment to the Defense
Appropriations bill,

Florentyna felt the time had come to deliver her maiden speech.

She wrote a letter to the chairman and asked for permission to speak
against the motion.  He sent back a courteous reply, reminding her she
would be allowed only five minutes and wishing her luck.

Buchanan spoke with great emotion to a silent chamber and used his five
minutes with the skill of a professional House man.  Florentyna thought
him the worst sort of backwoodsman and as he spoke added some notes to
her carefully prepared speech.  When Buchanan sat down, Sandra Read was
recognized and she made a powerful case against the amendment although
she was regularly interrupted by noisy comments from the floor.  A
third speaker added nothing to the debate, simply reiterating the words
of

Robert Buchanan, to be sure his views were on the record and in his
local newspaper.  Speaker Albert then recognized the distinguished
gentlewoman from Illinois.  Flornentyna rose with some trepidation and
made her way to the speaking rostrum in the well of the House, trying
to keep her hands from trembling too noticeably.

"Mr.  Speaker, I must apologize to the House for rising for the first
time to address members on a note of controversy, but I cannot support
the amendment for several reasons."  Florentyna started talking about
the role of a mother who wanted to continue a professional career.  She
proceeded to outline the reasons why Congress should not adopt the
amendment.  She was aware of being nervous and unusually inarticulate
and after a minute or so noticed that Buchanan and the other Republican
who had spoken earlier were now holding a heated discussion which
encouraged some of the other members in the chamber to talk
amon.themselves while others left their seats to chat with colleagues.
Soon the noise reached such a pitch that Florentyna could hardly hear
the sound of her own voice.  Suddenly in the middle of a sentence, she
stopped and stood in silence.  "The Speaker banged his gavel and asked
if she had yielded her time to anyone.

She turned to Carl Albert and said, "No, Mr.  Speaker, I do not intend
to continue."

"But ~the distinguished member was in the middle of a sentence.  "

"Indeed I was, Mr.  Speaker, but it has become obvious to me that the
two gentlemen from the opposite side of the House are only interested
in the sound of their own voices and not in anyone else', views."
Buchanan rose to object but was gaveled down as out of order by the
Speaker.  Uproar broke out and members who had never noticed her before
stared at

Florentyna.

She remained at the rostrum as the Speaker banged his gavel over and
over.  When the noise died down, Florentyna continued.  "I am aware,
Mr.

Speaker, that it takes several years in this place before one can hope
to get anything done, but I had not realized that it might take as many
years before anyone would have the good manners to listen to what one
had to say."

Once again pandemonium broke out while Florentyna stood silently
clutching on to the rostrum.  She was now trembling from head to toe.

Eventually the Speaker brought the chamber to order.

"The honorable member's point is well taken," he said, staring down at
the two offenders, who looked more than a little embarrassed.  "I have
mentioned this problem to the House on several cK-cas ions  It has
taken a new member to remind us how discourteous we have become.
Perhaps the distinguished gentlewoman from Illinois would now like to
resume."  Florentyna checked the point she had reached in her notes.
The House sat in expectant silence.

She was about to speak when a hand rested firmly on her shoulder.  She
turned to see a smiling Sandra Read.  "Sit down.  You've beaten them
all.

If you speak now it can only spoil the effect you've created.  As soon
as the next speaker rises, leave the chamber immediately."  Florentyna
nodded, yielded her time and returned to her seat.

Speaker Albert recognized the next speaker and Florentyna walked toward
the Speaker's gallery exit with Sandra Read.

When they reached the doors Sandra left her with the words, "Well done.
Now you're on your own."

Florentyna did not understand what Sandra meant until she walked into
the lobby and found herself surrounded by reporters.

"Can you step outside?"  asked an interviewer from CBS.  Florentyna
followed him to where she was met by television cameras, reporters and
flash bulbs.

"Do you think the Congress is a disgrace?"

"Will your stand help the pro-choice advocates?"

"How would you change the procedure?"

"Did you plan the whole exercise?"

Question after question came flying at Flarentyna and before the
evening was out, Senator Mike Mansfield, the Democratic Majority Leader
in the

Senate, had called to congratulate her and she had been asked by
Barbara

Walters to appear on the "Today" show.

The next day the Washington Post's version of events in the chamber
made it sound as though Florentyna had caused a declaration of war.
Richard caHed to read the caption underneath her photograph on the
front page of The New

York Times: "Woman of courage arrives in Congress," and as the morning
wore on it became obvious that Congresswoman Kane had become famous
overnight because she hadn't made a speech.  Phyllis Mills, a
representative from

Pennsylvania, warned her the following day that she had better choose
her next subject carefully because the Republicans would be lying in
wait for her with sharpened knives.

"Perhaps I should quit while I'm ahead," said Florentyna.

When the initial furor had subsided and her mail had dropped from a
thousand letters per week back to the usual three hundred, Florentyna
began to settle down to building a serious reputation.  In Chicago,
that reputation was aleady growing, which she learned from her biweekly
visits.

Her constituents were coming to believe that she could actually
influence the course of events.  This worried Florentyna because she
was quickly discovering how little room a politician had for
maneuvering outside the established guidelines.  At a local level,
however, she felt that she was able to help people who were often
simply overwhelmed by a bureaucratic system.  She decided to add
another staff member to the Chicago office to handle the heavy load of
work.

Richard was delighted to see how rewarding Florentyna found her new
career and tried to take as much pressure off her as possible when it
came to the day-to-day business of the Baron Group.

Edward Winchester helped considerably by assuming some of the
responsibilities, both in New York and Chicago, which otherwise would
have fallen on her.  In Chicago, Edward had gained considerable sway in
the smoke-filled rooms as Mayor Daley recognized the need for a new
breed of political operatives in the wake of the 1972 Presidential
election.  It seemed Daley's old supporters were coming to terms with
Florentyna's future.  Richard Kane was full of praise for Edward's
contribution as a member of the Baron board and was already considering
inviting him to join

Lester's as well.

No sooner had Florentyna completed her first year in Congress than she
complained to Richard that she would soon have to start campaigning
again.

"What a crazy system that sends you to the House for only two years; no
sooner have you settled into the place than you have to recycle the
campaign bumper stickers."

"How would you change it?"  asked Richard.

"Well, senators are in a far better position, coming up for election
only every six years, so I think I would make congressional terms at
least four years in length."

When she repeated her grouse to Edward in Chicago, he was sympathetic
but pointed out that in her case she didn't look as if she would have
any real opposition from the Democrats or the Republicans.

"What about Ralph Brooks?"

"He seems to have his eye firmly set on the State's Attorney's office
since his recent marriage.  Perhaps with his wife's social background
she doesn't want to see him in Washington politics."

"Don't believe it," said Florentyna.  "He'll be back."

In September, Florentyna flew to New York and, together with Richard,
drove William up to Concord, New Hampshire, to start his fifth-form
year at St.  Paul's.  The car was packed with more stereo equipment,
Rolling

Stones records and athletic gear than books.  Annabel was now in her
first year at the Madeira School, just outside Washington, so she could
be near her mother but still showed no interest in wanting to follow
Florentyna to Radcliffe.

Florentyna was disappointed that Annabel's sole interests always seemed
to center on boys and parties.  Not once during the holidays did she
discuss her progress at school or even open a book.

She avoided her brother's company and would even change the subject
whenever Willi am's name came up in conversation.  It became more
obvious every day that she was jealous of her brother's achievements.

Carol did the best she could to keep her occupied, but on two
occasions

Annabel disobeyed her father and once returned home from a date hours
after she had agreed.

Florentyna was rolieved when the time came for Annabel to return to
school as she decided not to overreact to her daughter's holiday
escapades.  She hoped it was nothing more than an adolescent stage
Annabel was passing through.

Struggling to survive in a man's world was nothing new for Florentyna
and she began her second year in Congress with considerably more
confidence than a year earlier.  Life at the Baron had been a little
sheltered in comparison with politics.  After all, she had been the
chairman of the

Group and Richard had always been there by her side.  Edward was quick
to point out that perhaps having to fight a little harder than any man
was no bad preparation for the time when she would have to face new
rivals.

When Richard asked her how many of her colleagues she considered
capable of holding down a place on the board of the Baron Group, she
had to admit that there were very few.

Florentyna enjoyed her second year far more than her first, and there
were many highlights: in February she successfully sponsored a bill
which exempted from any taxation scientific publications selling fewer
than ten thousand copies per issue.  In April she fought several
provisions in the

President's budget proposals and in May she and Richard received an
invitation to a reception at the White House for Queen Elizabeth 11
of

England.  But the most pleasing aspect of the whole year was the
feeling that she was actually influencing issues that affected her
constituents' lives.

The invitation that gave her the most pleasure that year came from

Transportation Secretary William Coleman to see the tall ships
entering

New York Harbor in honor of the Bicentennial.  It reminded her that

America also had a history she could be proud of.

In all, it was a memorable year for Florentyna, the only sad event, the
death of her mother, who had been afflicted with respiratory trouble
for many months.  More than a year earlier, Zaphia had dropped out of
Chicago life, at the very moment when she had been dominating the
society columns- She had told Florentyna as far back as 1968, when she
had brought the revolutionary Saint-Laurent show to the Windy City,
"These new fashions simply don't compliment a woman of my age."  After
that she was rarely seen at any of the major charity events and her
name soon began to disappear from the embossed note paper used for such
galas.  She was happy to spend hours listening to stories about her
grandchildren and she often offered a word of motherly advice that her
daughter had grown to respect.

Florentyna had wanted a quiet funeral.  As she stood by the grave with
tier son and daughter on each side of her, listening to the words of

Father O'Reilly, she realized that she could no longer hope for
privacy, even in death.  As the coffin was lowered into the grave the
flash bulbs continued to pop until the earth had completely covered the
wooden casket and the last of the Rosnovskis was buried.

During the final few weeks before the Presidential election, Florentyna
spent more of her time in Chicago, leaving Janet in Washington to run
the office.  After Representative Wayne Hays admitted paying a member
of his staff $14,000 a year in salary even though she could not type a
word and did not answer the phone, Janet and Louise asked for a
raise.

"Yes, but Miss Ray is supplying a service for Mr.  Hays that I have not
yet found necessary in my office," said Florentyna.

"But the problem in this office is the other way around," said
Louise.

"What do you mean?"  asked Florentyna.

"We spend our life being propositioned by members who think we're a

Capitol Hill perk."

"How many members have propositioned you, Louise?"  said Florentyna,
laughing.

"Over a hundred," said Louise.

"And how many did you accept?"

"Three," said Louise, grinning.

"And how many propositioned you?"  said Florentyna, turning to Janet.

"Three," said Janet.

"And how many did you accept?"

"Three," said Janet.

When the three women had stopped laughing, Florentyna said, "Well,
perhaps Joan Mondale was right.  What the Democrats do to their
secretaries, the Republicans do to the country.  You both get a
raise."

Edward turned out to be accurate about her selection; she had been
unopposed as the Democratic candidate, and the primary for the Ninth

District was virtually a steal.  Stewart Lyle, who ran again as the

Republican candidate, admitted privately to her that he now had little
chance.  "Re-elect Kane" stickers seemed to be everywhere.

Florentyna looked forward to a new session of Congress with a
Democratic

President in the White House.  The Republicans had selected Jerry Ford
after a tough battle with Governor Reagan, and the Democrats had chosen
Jimmy

Carter, a man she had barely heard of until the New Hampshire
primary.

Ford's primary battle against Ronald Reagan did not enhance the
President's cause and the American people had still not forgiven him
for pardoning

Nixon.  On the personal front, Ford seemed incapable of avoiding naive
mistakes such as bumping his head on helicopter doors and falling down
airplane steps.  And during a television debate with Carter, Florentyna
sat horrified when he suggested that there was no Soviet domination of
Eastern

Europe.  "Tell the Polish people that," Florentyna said indignantly to
the small screen.

The Democratic candidate committed his share of mistakes as well, but
in the end, it seemed to Richard that Carter's image as an
anti-Washington evangelical Christian, when viewed against the problems
Ford had inherited from his links with Nixon, would be enough to give
Carter the election by a small margin.

"Then why was I returned with an increased majority?"  Florentyna
demanded.

"Because many Republicans voted for you but not for Carter."

"Were you among them?"

I plead the Fifth Amendment."

RICHARD WORE AS MART DARK SUIT but was sorry the President had insisted
that no one wear a cutaway.  The Kane family watched the new President
deliver a speech that lacked the charisma ol Kennedy or the wisdom of

Roosevelt, but its simple message of Christian honesty above all else
captured the mood of the moment.  America wanted a decent, homespun man
in the White House and everyone was willing him to succeed. President

Ford sat on his immediate left and President Nixon was conspicuously
absent.  Florentyna felt the tone for Carter's Administration was set
with the words:

"I have no dream to set forth today, but rather urge a fresh faith in
the old dream.  We have learned that 'more' is not necessarily
'better'; that even our great nation has recognized limits, and that we
can neither answer all questions nor solve all problems."

The Washington crowds were delighted when the new President, the
First

Lady and their daughter Amy walked down Pennsylvania Avenue hand in
hand to the White House, and it was obvious that the Secret Service was
quite unprepared for such a break with tradition.

"Dancer is on the move," said one of them over his twoway radio.  "God
help us if we are going to have four years of spontaneous gestures."

That evening the Kanes attended one of the seven People's Parties, as

Carter had named them, to commemorate the inauguration.  Florentyna was
dressed in a new Gianni di Ferranti gown of white faintly threaded with
gold, keeping the camera bulbs flashing.  During the evening she and

Richard were both introduced to the President, who seemed to Florentyna
to be as shy in person as he was in public.

When Florentyna took her spat on the floor of the chamber for the start
of the 95th Congress, it felt like returning to school, with all the
backslapping, handshaking, hugging and noisy discussion about what the
members had done during the recess.

"Glad to see you won again."

"Was it a hard campaign?"

"Don't imagine you'll be able to select your own committees now that

Mayor Daley is dead."

"What did you think of Jimmy's address?"

The new Speaker, Tip O'Neill, took his place in the center of the
podium, hanged his gavel, called everyone to order and the whole
process began again.

Florentyna had moved up two places on the Appropriations Committee, for
lowing one retirement and one defeat since the last election.  She now
understood how the committee system worked but still feared it would be
many years and many elections before she made any real headway for the
causes she espoused.  Richard had suggested she concentrate on a field
in which she could gain more public recognition and she had wavered
between abortion and tax reform.  Richard counseled against too close
an association with abortion and reminded her of how her colleagues
referred to Elizabeth Holtzman as "Congressperson Holtzperson." 
Florentyna agreed in principle but was no nearer deciding what her
special subject should be when the subject chose itself.

A debate of the Defen%e Appropriations bill was taking place on the
floor of the House, and Florentyna sat listening as the chamber
casualty discussed the allocation of billions of dollars on defense
spending.  She did not sit on the Defense Subcommittee on which Robert
C. L. Buchanan was the ranking Republican, but she was deeply
interested in his opinions.  Buchanan was reminding the House that
Defense Secretary Brown had recently asserted that the Russians now had
the capability to destroy

American satellites in space.  Buchanan went on to demand that the
new

President spend more money on defense and less in other areas.
Florentyna still considered Buchanan the worst sort of conservative
foot and in a moment of anger rose to challenge him.  Everyone in the
chamber remembered their last confrontation and knew that Buchanan
would have to allow her to put her case.

"Would the congressman yield for a question?"

"Of course."

I am grateful to the distinguished gentleman and would like to ask him
where he imagines the extra money for his grandiose military schemes
would come from?"

Buchanan rose slowly to his feet.  He wore a three-piece tweed suit,
and his silver hair was parted neatly to the right.  He rocked t from
leg to leg I ike a cavalry officer on a cold parade ground.  "My
grandiose schemes are no more and no less than those requested by the
committee on which I serve and, if I remember Lorrectly, that committee
still has a majority from the party which the distinguished member from
Illinois represents."  Loud laughter greeted Buchanan's remarks.
Flornentyna stood up a second time; Buchanan immediately gave way
again.

"I am still bound to inquire of the distinguished gentleman from

Tennessee where he intends to take the money from.  Education.
hospitals, welfare, perhaps?"  The chamber was silent.

"I would not take it from anyone, ma'am, but I would warn Mrs.  Kane
that if there is not enough money for defense we may not need any money
for education, hospitals or welfare."

Congressman Buchanan picked up a document from his table and informed
the

House of the exact figures spent in the previous year's budget, in all
the departments Florentyna had mentioned.  They showed that in real
terms, defense spending had dropped more than all the others.  "It's
members like the distinguished lady who come to the chamber without
facts, equipped with nothing more than a vague feeling that defense
expenditure is too high, that make the Kremlin leaders rub their hands
with glee while the reputation of the House is at the same time
diminished.  It is the type of ill-informed attitude being expressed by
the lady from Illinois that tied the hands of President Roosevelt and
left us so little time to come to terms with the menace of Hitler."

Florentyna wished she had never entered the chamber that afternoon as
members from both sides echoed their agreement.  As soon as Buchanan
had finished his remarks, she left the floor and returned quickly to
her office.

"Janet, I want all the committee reports from the Appropriations

Subcommittee on Defense for the last ten years and ask my legislative
researchers to join us immediately," she said even before she reached
her desk.

"Yes, ma'am," said Janet, somewhat surprised, as Florentyna had never
mentioned defense in the three years she had known her.  The staffers
filed in and sank into Florentyna's old sofa.

"For the next few months I plan to concentrate on defense matters.  I
need you to go over the reports of the subcommittee during the last ten
years and mark up any relevant passages.  I am trying to get a
realistic appraisal of America's military strength if we were called
upon to defend ourselves against an attack from the Soviets."  The four
staffers were writing furiously.  "I want all the major works on the
subject including the CIA Team A and Team B evaluations and I want to
be briefed when lectures or seminars on defense or related matters take
place in

Washington.  I want all press comments from the Washington Post, The
New

York Times, Newsweek and Time put in a file for me every Friday
night.

No one must be able to quote something I haven't had a chance to
consider."

The staffers were as surprised as Janet because they had been
concentrating their efforts on small business and tax reform for over
two years.  They were not going to have many free weekends during the
coming months.  Once they had departed, Florentyna picked up the phone
and dialed five digits.  When a secret;uy answered, she requested an
appointment with the Majority Leader.

"Of course, Mrs.  Kane.  I will ask Mr.  Chadwick to call you later
today."

Florentyna was ushered into the Majority Leader's office at ten o'clock
the next morning.

"Mark, I want to be put on the Appropriations Subcommittee on
Defense."

"I wish it were that easy, Florentyna."

"I know.  Mark, this is the first favor I've asked for."

"There is only one slot open on that subcommittee and so many members
are twisting my arm it's amazing I'm not permanently in splints.

Nevertheless, I'll give your request my serious consideration."  He
made a note on the pad in front of him.  "By the way, Florentyna, the
League of Women Voters is holding its annual meeting in my district and
they've invited me to make the keynote speech on opening day.  I know
how popular you are with the League and I was hoping you might find it
possible to fly up and do the introduction speech."

"I'll give your request my serious consideration," said Florentyna,
smiling.

She received a note from the Speaker's office two days later informing
her of her appointment as the junior member of the Appropriations

Subcommittee on Defense.  Three weeks later she flew to Massachusetts
and told the League of Women Voters that as long as there were men like
Mark

Chadwick in

Congress, they need have no fears for America's well-being.  The women
applauded loudly while Florentyna turned to find Mark with a pained
expression on his face and one arm behind his back.

During the summer vacation, the whole family went to California.  They
spent the first ten days in San Francisco with Bella and her family in
their new home, high up on the hill, now overlooking the bay.

Claude had become a partner in the law firm, and Bella had been
appointed assistant headmistress.  If anything, Richard decided, Claude
was a little thinner and Bella a little larger than when they had last
seen them.

The holiday would have been enjoyed by everyone if Annabel hadn't
frequently disappeared off on her own.  Bella's gripping of a hockey
stick firmly in her hand left Florentyna in no doubt how she would have
dealt with the girl.

Florentyna tried to keep harmony between the two families, but a
confrontation was unavoidable when Bella found Annabel in the attic
smoking pot.

"Mind your own business," she told Bella as she inhaled once more

When F-lorentyna lost her temper with Annabel, Annabel informed her
mother that if she took more interest in her welfare and less in her
precious career, perhaps she could have expected a little criticism
from her.

When Richard heard the story he immediately accompanied Annabel back to
the East Coast while Florentyna and William traveled on to Los Angeles
for the rest of their holiday.

Florentyna spent an unhappy time phoning Richard twice a day to find
out how Annabel was.  She and William returned home a week early.

In September, William entered his freshman year at Harvard, taking up
residence in the Yard, on the top floor of Grays Hall, making the fifth
generation of Kanes that had been educated at Cambridge.  Annabel
returned to the Madeira School, where she seemed to be making little
progress despite the fact that she spent most weekends under her
parents' watchful eyes in Washington.

During the next session, Florentyna allocated a considerable part of
her time to reading the defense papers and books her staffers
recommended.

She became engrossed in the problems the nation faced if it wished to
remain strategically safe.  She

 M-1982 275

read papers by experts, spoke to assistant secretaries at the Defense

Department and studied the major U.S. treaties with her NATO allies.
She visited the Air Force SAC headquarters, toured U.S. bases in Europe
and the Far East, observed army maneuvers in North Carolina and
California, even spent a weekend submerged in a nuclear submarine.  She
sought meetings with admirals and generals, as well as having
discussions with enlisted men and noncommissioned officers, but she
never once raised her voice in the House chamber and only asked
questions in committee hearings, where she was often struck by the fact
that the most expensive weapons were not always the most effective. She
began to realize that the military had a long way to go in improving
its readiness if a national security crisis was to be handled
effectively.  This had not been tested fully since the

Cuba confrontation.  After a year of listening and study she came to
the conclusion that Representative Buchanan had been right and it was
she who had been the fool.  She was surprised to find how much she
enjoyed her new discipline and realized how her views must have changed
when a colleague openly referred to her as a hawk.  America had no
choice but to increase defense spending while Russia remained so openly
aggressive.

She studied all the papers on the MX missile system, which came under
the jurisdiction of the House Armed Services Committee.  When the
so-called

Simon Amendment to hold up the authorization of the system came on the
calendar she asked Chairman Galloway to be recognized during the
debate.

She told Richard.  He agreed.

Florentyna listened intently as other members gave their views for and
against the amendment.  Robert Buchanan gave a considered speech
against it.  When he took his seat, Florentyna was surprised the
Speaker called on her next.  She rose to a packed house. Representative
Buchanan said in a voice loud enough to carry, "We are about to hear
the views of an expert."  One or two Republicans seated near him
laughed as Florentyna walked to the podium.  She placed her notes.  on
the lectern in front of her.

"Mr.  Speaker, I address the House as a convinced supporter of the MX
missile.  America cannot afford to delay any further the defense of
this country because a group of congressmen claim they want more time
to read the relevant documents.  Those papers have been available to
every member of the House for over a year.  It hardly needs a course in
speed reading for members to have done their homework for today.  The
truth is that this amendment is nothing more than a delaying tactic for
members who are opposed to the MX missile system  I condemn those
members as men with their heads in the sand, heads that will remain in
the sand until the Russians have made their first pre-emptive strike.
Don't they realize America must also have a first-strike capability?

"I approve of the Polaris submarine system, but we cannot hope to push
all our nuclear problems out to sea, especially now that navy
intelligence informs us that the Russians have a submarine that can
travel at a speed of forty knots and remain underwater for four
years-four years, Mr.  Speaker-without returning to base.  The argument
that the citizens of Nevada and Utah are in more danger from the MX
system than anyone else is spurious.  The land where the missiles would
be deployed is already owned by the government and is at present
occupied by nineteen hundred and eighty sheep and three hundred and
seventy cows.

I don't believe the American people need to be mollycoddled on the
subject of' the nation's safety.  They have elected us to carry out
long-term decisions, not to go on talking while we become weaker by the
minute.  Some members of Congress would make Nero appear to the
American people as a man who was giving a violin concert in aid of the
Rome fire brigade."

When the laughter had diminished, Florentyna became very grave.  "Have
members so quickly forgotten that in 1935 more people worked for the
Ford

Motor Company than were in the entire United States armed forces?  Have
we also forgotten that in the same year we had a smaller army than

Czechoslovakia, a country since trampled on by Germany and Russia in
turn?  We had a navy half the size of that of France, a country
humiliated by the Germans while we sat and watched, and an air force
that even

Hollywood didn't bother to hire for war movies.  When the threat of
Hitler first arose we could not have rattled a saber at hkm.  We must
be certain such a situation can never rise again.

"I'he American people have never seen the enemy on the beaches of

California or on the dockside of New York, but that does not mean that
the enemy does not exist.  As late as 1950, Russia had as many combat
planes as the United States, four times as many troops and thirty tank
divisions to America's one.  We cannot allow ourselves to be at such a
disadvantage again.  Equally I pray that our great nation will never be
involved in another debacle such as Vietnam and that none of us will
live to see another American die in combat.  But our enemies must
always be aware that we will meet aggression head-on.  Like the eagle
that bestrides our standard, we will hover always alert to the defense
of our friends and the protection of our citizens."

Some members on the floor of the House started to applaud.

"To each American who says our defense expenditure is too costly, I
reply let them look to the countries behind the Iron Curtain and see
that no price is too high to pay for the democratic freedom we take for
granted in this country.  The Iron Curtain is drawn across East
Germany,

Czechoslovakia, Hungary and Poland, with Afghanistan and Yugoslavia
guarding their borders in daily expectation of that curtain being drawn
still further, perhaps even reaching the Middle East.  After that the

Soviets will not be satisfied until it encircles the entire globe."
The

House was so silent that Florentyna dropped her voice before she
continued.

"Many nations have through history played their role in the protection
of the free world.  That responsibility has now been passed to the
leaders of this commonwealth.  Let our grandchildren never say we
shirked that responsibility in exchange for popularity.  Let us assure
America's freedom by being willing to make a sacrifice now.  Let us be
able to say to every

American that we did not shirk our duty'in the face of danger.  Let
there be in this House no Nero, no fiddler, no fire and no victory for
our enemies - "

Members in the chamber cheered while Florentyna remained standing.
The

Speaker helplessly tried to gavel the meeting to order.  When the last
cheer had died she spoke almost in a whisper.

"Let that sacrifice never again be the lives of America's youth, or
substituted for by the dangerous illusion that we can keep peace in the
world without providing for its defense against aggression.  Adequately
protected, America can influence events without fear, govern without
terror and still remain the bastion of the free world.  Mr.  Speaker, I
oppose the

Simon Amendment as irrelevant, and worse, irresponsible."

Florentyna took her seat and she was quickly surrounded by colleagues
from both sides who praised her speech.  The press heaped further
praise on her the next day and the networks included passages from her
speech in their bulletins.  Florentyna was shocked at how glibly they
described her as an expert on defense.  Two papers even talked of her
as a future Vice President.

Once again Florentyna's mail rose to over a thousand letters a week,
but there were three letters that particularly moved her.  The first
was a dinner invitation from an ailing Hubert

Humphrey.  She accepted but, like the other invited guests, did not
attend.

The second came from Robert Buchanan, simply written in a bold hand:

"I salute you, madam."

The third was an anonymous scrawled note from Ohio:

You are a fucking communist agent bent on destroying America with
impossible defense commitments.  The gas chamber is too good a place
for people like you.  You should be strung up with that dummy Ford and
that pimp Carter.  Why don't you get back to the kitchen where you
belong, bitch?

"How do you react to people like that?"  asked Janet, stunned.

"You don't bother.  Repudiating that sort of mindless prejudice is
beyond even your skillful hand.  Let's be thankful that ninety-nine
percent of the letters are from fair-minded people who wish to express
their views honestly.  Though I confess if I knew his address I'd be
tempted to reply for the first time in my life, "Up Yours."

After a hectic week during which she seemed to be pursued by phone
messages, Florentyna spent a quiet weekend with Richard.  William was
home from Harvard and was quick to show his mother a cartoon from the
Boston

Globe depicting her as a heroine with the head of an eagle, punching a
bear on the nose.  Annabel phoned from school to tell her mother that
she wouldn't be home that weekend.

Florentyna played tennis with her son that Saturday and it took her
only a few minutes to realize how fit he was and what a dreadful state
she was in.

She couldn't pretend walking around golf courses kept her fit.  With
each shot it became more obvious that William wasn't trying very hard.
She was relieved to be told that he couldn't play another set because
he had a date.  She scribbled a note to Janet to order an Exercycle
from Hammacher

Schlemmer.

Over dinner that night, Richard told Florentyna that he wanted to build
a

Baron in Madrid and he was thinking of sending Edward to check the
building sites.

"Why Edward?"

"He's asked to go.  He's working almost full-time for the Group now and
has even rented an apartment in New York."

"What can have happened to his law practice?"

"He's become counsel to the firm and says that if you can change your
whole career at forty, why shouldn't he.  Since

Daley's death he hasn't found it a full-time job proving that you're
worth a place in Congress.  I must say he's like a schoolboy who's
found himself locked up in a candy store.  It's taken a great load off
my shoulders.  He's the only man I know who works as hard as you."

"What a good friend he has turned out to be."

"Yes, I agree.  You do realize he's in love with you, don't you?"

"What?"  said Florentyna,

"Oh, I don't mean he wants to leap into bed with you, not that I could
blame him if he did.  No, he simply adores you, but he would never
admit it to anyone, although it wouldn't take a blind man to see
that."

"But I never-,"

"No, of course you haven't, my darling.  Do you think I would be
considering putting him on the board of Lester's if I thought I might
lose my wife to him?"

"I wish He would find himself a wife."

"He'll never marry anyone as long as you are around Jessie.  Just be
thankful that you have two men who adore you."

When Florentyna returned to Washington after the weekend she was
greeted with another pile of the invitations that had been coming in
with increasing frequency.  She sought EdWard's advice as to what she
should do about them.

"Select about half a dozen of the major invitations to places where
your views can be expected to reach the maximum number of people, and
explain to the others that your work load does not pc, 'nit you to
accept at the moment.  But remember to end each letter of refusal with
a personal handwritten line.  One day when you are seeking a bigger
audience than the

Ninth District of Illinois, there will be people whose only contact
with you will be that letter, and on that alone they will decide
whether they are for or against you."

"You're a wise old thing, Edward."

"Ah, but you mustn't forget I'm a year older than you, my dear."

Florentyna took Edward's advice and spent two hours every night dealing
with the letters prompted by her speech on defense  At the end of five
weeks she ha * d answered every one, by which time her mail had almost
returned to normal proportions.  She accepted invitations to speak at
Princeton and the University of California at Berkeley.  She also
addressed the cadets of West Point and the midshipmen at Annapolis and
was to be the guest of Max Cleland at a Washington lunch to honor
Vietnam veterans.

Everywhere she went Florentyna was introduced as one of America's
leading authorities on defense.  She became so involved and fascinated
by the subject that it terrified her how little she really knew which
made her study the subject even more intensively.  Somehow she kept up
with her work in Chicago, but the more she became a public figure, the
more she had to assign tasks to her staff.  She appointed two more
assistants to her

Washington office and another in Chicago at her own expense.  She was
now spending over $100,000 a year out of her own pocket.  Richard
described it as reinvesting in America.  It

"ANYTHING THAT CAN'T WA ITT asked Florentyna, glancing down at a desk
full of correspondence that had arrived that morning.  The 95th
Congress was winding down and most members were once again more
concerned about being re-elected than about sitting in Washington
working on legislation.  At this stage of the session, staffers were
spending almost all their time dealing with constituency problems
rather than concentrating on national affairs.

Florentyna disliked a system that made hypocrites of normally honest
people as soon as another election loomed.  "There are three matters
that I ought to draw to your attention," said Janet in her customarily
efficient manner.  "The first is that your voting record can hardly be
described as exemplary.  It has fallen from eighty-nine percent to
seventy-one percent this session and your opponents are bound to jump
on that fact, claiming that you are losing interest in your job and
should be replaced."

"But the reason I've been missing votes is that I've been inspecting
defense bases, and accepting so many out-of-state engagements.  I can't
help it if half my colleagues want me to speak in their districts."

"I am aware of that," said Janet, "but you can't expect the voters of

Chicago to be.  They're not pleased that you're in California or
Princeton when they expect you to be in Washington.  It might be wise
not to accept any more invitations from other members or well-wishers
-until the next session.  If you make most of the votes during the last
few weeks we may push you back above eighty percent."

"Keep reminding me, Janet.  What's second?"

"Ralph Brooks has been elected State's Attorney of Illinois, so he
should be out of your hair for a while."

"I wonder," said Florentyna, scribbling a note on her pad to remind
herself to write and congratulate him.  Janet placed a copy of the
Chicago

Tribune in front of her.  Mr.  and Mrs.  Brooks stared up at her.  The
caption said: "The new State's Attorney attends charity concert in
behalf of the Chicago Symphony Orchestra."

"Doesn't miss a trick, does he?"  commented Florentyna.  "I bet his
voting record would always be over eighty percent.  And the third
thing?"

"You have a meeting with Don Short at ten A.M."

"Don Short?"

"He's a director of Aerospace Plan and Research, Inc.," said Janet.
"You agreed to see him because his company has a contract with the
government to build radar stations for tracking enemy missiles. They're
now bidding for the new navy contract to put their equipment into
American warships."

"Now I remember," said Florentyna.  "Somebody produced an excellent
paper on the subject.  Dig it out for me, will you?"

Janet passed over a brown manila file.  "I think you'll find everything
in there."

Florentyna smiled and flicked quickly through the papers.  "Ah, yes, it
all comes back.  I shall have one or two pointed questions for Mr.
Short."

For the next hour, Florentyna dictated letters before reading through
the briefing file.  She found time to jot down several questions before
Don

Short arrived.  Janet accompanied him into Florentyna's office as ten
o'clock struck.

"Congresswoman, this is a great honor," said Don Short, thrusting out
his hand.  "We at Aerospace Plan look upon you as one of the last
bastions of hope for the free world."

It was very rare for Florentyna to dislike someone on first sight, but
it was clear that Don Short was going to fall firmly into that
category.

Around five feet seven and twenty pounds overweight, he was a man in
his early fifties and nearly bald except for a few strands of black
hair which had been carefully combed over the dome of his head.  He
wore a checked suit and carried a brown leather Gucci briefcase.
Before

Florentyna had acquired her present hawkish reputation she had never
been visited by the Don Shorts of the world since no one thought it
worthwhile to lobby her.  However, since she had been on the Defense
Subcommittee

Florentyna had received endless invitations to dinners and travel-free
junkets, and had even been sent gifts ranging from bronze model F- I 5s
to manganese nodules encascd in lucite.

Florentyna had accepted only those invitations that were relevant to
the issues she was working on at the time, and with the exception of a
model of the Concorde she returned every gift she had been sent with a
polite note.  She kept the Concorde on her desk to remind everyone that
she believed in excellence whichever country was responsible.  She had
been told that Margaret Thatcher had a replica of Apollo I I on her
desk in the House of Commons and she assumed it was there for the same
ru~ason.

Janet left the two of them alone and Florentyna ushered Don Short into
a (omfortable chair.  He crossed his legs, giving Florentyna a glimpse
of hairless skin where his trousers failed to meet his socks.

"A nice office you have here.  Are those your children?"  he asked,
jabbing a pudgy finger at the photos on Florentyna's desk.

"Yes," said Florentyna.

"Such go oil-looking kids-take after their mother."  He laughed
nervously.

I think you wanted to talk to me about the XR-108, Mr.  Short?"

"That's right, but call me Don.  We believe it's the one piece of
equipment the U.S. Navy cannot afford to be without.  The XR-108 can
track and pinpoint an enemy missile at a distance of over ten thousand
miles.

Once the XR-108 is installed on every American carrier.  the Russians
will never dare attack America, because America will always be sailing
the high seas.  guarding her people while they sleep."  Mr.  Short
stopped almost as if he were expecting applause.  "What is more, my
company's equipment can photograph every missile site in Russia," he
continued, "and beam the picture straight onto a television screen in
the White

House Situation Room.  The Russians can't even go to the john without
us taking a photo of them."  Mr.  Short ial.lghed again.

I have studied the capabilities of the XR- 108 in depth, Mr.  Short,
and

I wonder why Boeing claims it can produce essentially the same piece of
equipment at only seventy-two percent of your price."

"Out equipment is far more sophisticated, Mrs.  Kane, and we have a
proven record in the field, having already supplied the U.S. Army."

"Your company did not complete the tracking stations for the Army by
the date specified in your contract and handed us a cost overrun of
seventeen percent on the original estimate or to be more precise
-twenty -three million dollars."  Florentyna had not once looked at her
notes.

Don Short started to lick his lips.  "Well, I'm afraid inflation has
taken its toll on everyone, not least of all the aerospace industry.
Perhaps if you could spare a little time to meet our board members, the
problem would become clearer to you.  We might even arrange a
dinner."

"I rarely attend dinners, Mr.  Short.  I have long believed that the
only person who makes any profit over dinner is the maitre d'."

Don Short laughed again.  "No, no, I meant a testimonial dinner in your
honor.  We would invite, say, five hundred people at fifty dollars a
head, which you could add to your campaign fund, or to whatever you
need the cash for," he added, almost in a whisper.

Florentyna was about to throw the man out when her secretary arrived
with some coffee.  By the time Louise left, Florentyna had controlled
her temper and made a decision.

"How does that work, Mr.  Short?"

"Well, ray company likes to give a helping hand to its friends.  We
understand some of your bills for re-election can be pretty steep, so
we hold a dinner to raise a little cash and if all the guests don't
turn up but still send their fifty dollar swell who's to know?"

"As you say, Mr.  Short, who's to know?"

"Shall I let that up then?"

"Why don't you, Mr.  Short."

"I knew we could work together."

Florentyna just managed a tight-lipped smile as Don Short offered a
limp hand before Janet showed him out,

"I'll be in touch, Florentyna," he said, turning back.

"Thank you."

As soon as the door closed, the voting bells started to ring.
Florentyna glanced up at the clock on which tiny white bulbs were
flashing to-show that she still had five minutes to reach the chamber.
"Well, there's one

I can pick up," she said, and left to run to the elevator reserved for
members of Congress.  When she had reached the basement she jumped on
the subway that went between Longworth and the Capitol and took a seat
next to Bob Buchanan.

"How are you going to vote?"  he asked.

"Good heavens," said Florentyna, "I don't even know what we're voting
for or against."

Her thoughts were still focused on Don Short and what she was going to
do about his dinner,

"You're okay this time.  It's lifting the retirement age cap from
sixty-five to seventy, and on that one I'm sure we can both vote the
same way."

"It's only a plot to keep old men like you in Congress and see that I
neNer get to chair any committees .

"Wait until you're sixty-five, Florentyna.  Then you might feel
differeritty."

The subway reached the basement of the Capitol and the two
representatives took the elevator up to the chamber together.  It
pleased

Florentyna that this diehard Republican now looked upon her as a
full-fledged member of the club.  When they reached the chamber they
rested on the brass rail at the back, waiting for their names to be
called.

"I never enjoy standing on your side of the chamber," he said.  "After
all these years, it still feels strange."

"Some of us are quite human, you know, and I'll let you in on a secret:
my husband voted for Jerry Ford."

"Wise man, your husband," chuckled Buchanan.

"Perhaps your wife voted for Jimmy Carter?"

The old man suddenly looked sad.  "She died last year," he said
quietly.

"I am sorry," said Florentyna.  "I had no idea."

"No, no, my dear.  I realized that, but rejoice in your family because
they are not always with you, and the one thing I've di-covered i~,
that this place can only he a poor substitute for a real family,
whatever you imagine you achieve..  .. They've started calling the B's,
so I'll leave you to your thoughts.  I'll find standing on this side of
the aisle more pleasant in the future."

Florentyna smiled and reflected on how their mutual respect had been
conceived in mutual mistrust.  She was thankful that the party
differences so crudely displayed on election platforms disappeared in
the privacy of everyday work.  A few moments later the K's were called
and once she had punched her card into the voting pocket she went back
to her own office and phoned Bill Pearson, the majority whip, to ask
for an immediate interview.

"Must it 6e this minute?"

"This minute, Bill."

"I suppose you want me to put you on the Foreign Affairs Committee."

"No, it's far more serious than that."

"Then you had better come around right away."

Bill Pearson puffed away at his pipe as he listened to Florentyna
recount what had happened in her office that morning.  Then he said,
"We know a lot of this sort of thing goes on, but we're rarely able to
prove it.  Your Mr.

Short seems to have provided an ideal chance to catch someone with
their radar scanner in the pie.  Go through with the whole charade,
Florentyna, and keep me briefed.  The moment they hand over any money
we'll jump on

Aerospace Plan like a ton of bricks, and if in the end we can't prove
anything, at least the exercise might make other members of Congress
think twice before getting themselves involved in these sorts of
shenanigans."

Over the weekend Florentyna told Richard about Don Short, but he showed
no surprise.  "The problem's a simple one.  Some congressmen have only
their salaries to live on, so the temptation to pick up cash must
sometimes be overwhelming, especially if they are fighting for a seat
they could lose and have no assured job to fall back on."

"If that's the case, why did Short bother with me?"

"That's also easy to explain.  I receive half a dozen personal
approaches ;A year at the bank.  The sort of people who offer bribes
imagine no one can resist the chance to make a quick buck without Uncle
Sam finding out, because that's the way they would react themselves.
You would be surprised how many millionaires would sell their mothers
for ten thousand dollars in cash."

Don Short phoned during the week and confirmed that a testimonial
dinner had been arranged in Florentyna's honor at the Mayflower Hotel.
He expected about five hundred people to be present.  Florentyna
thanked him, then buzzed Louise on the intercom and asked her to write
the date in the appointment book.

Because of the pressure Florentyna was under with congressional
business and out-of-state trips over the next few weeks, she nearly
missed Don

Short's testimonial dinner altogether.  She was on the floor of the
House supporting a colleague's amendment to a small businesses bill
when Janet hurried into the chamber.

"Have you forgotten the Aerospace Plan dinner?"

"No, but it's not for a week," said Florentyna.

"If you check your card you'll find it's tonight and you're due there
in twenty minutes," said Janet.  "And don't forget t1wre are five
hundred people waiting for you."

Florentyna apologized to her colleague and quickly left the chamber and
ran to the Longwot1h garage.  She drove out into the Washington night
well above the speed limit.  She turned off Connecticut Avenue at De
Sales Street and left her car in a lot before walking through the side
entrance of the Mayflower.  She was a few minutes late, her thoughts
far from collected, and arrived to find Don Short, dressed in a tight
fitting dinner jacket, standing in the lobby waiting to gveet her.
Flornentyna suddenly realized that she had not had time to change and
hoped that the dress she was wearing did not look too casual.

"We've taken a private room," he said as he led her toward the
elevator.

"I didn't realize the Mayflower had a banquet room that could seat five
hundred," she said as the elevator doors closed.

Don Short laughed.  "That's a good one," he said, and led his guest
into a room that-had it been packed-would have held twenty people.  He
introduced her to everyone present, which to4, only a few mon-wnts:
there were only fourteen guests.

Over dir mer Florentyna listened to Don Short's off-color stories and
tales of Aerospace Plan's triumphs.  She wasn't sure that she could get
through the whole evening without exploding.  At the end of the dinner
Don rose from his seat, tapped a spoon on his empty glass and made a
fulsome speech about his close friend Florentyna Kane.  The applause
when he sat down was as loud as one could hope for from fourteen
people.  Florentyna made a short reply of thanks and managed to escape
a few minutes after eleven, at least grateful that the Mayflower had
provided an excellent meal.

Don Short escorted her back to the parking lot and as she climbed into
her car, he handed her an envelope.  "I'm sorry so few people turned
up, but at least all the absentees sent in their fifty dollars."  He
grinned as he closed the car door.

After Florentyna had driven back to the Baron, she tore open the
envelope and studied the contents: a check for $24,300 made out to
cash.  She told Bill Pearson the whole story the following morning and
handed over the envelope.  "This," he said, waving the check, "is going
to open a whole can of worms."  He smiled and locked the $24,300 away
in his desk.

Florentyna left the city for the weekend, feeling she had carried out
her part of the exercise rather well.  Even Richard con-ratulated
her.

"Although we could have done with the cash ourselves," He said.

"What do you mean?"  said Florentyna.

"I think the Baron's profits are going to take a big drop this year."

"Good heavens, why?"

"A series of financial decisions implemented by President Carter which
are harming the hotels while ironically helping the bank-we have
inflation running at fifteen percent while the prime rate is at
sixteen.

I fear the expense account business trip is the fir't cutback for most
companies that have discovered the telephone is cheaper.  So we're not
filling all our rooms and we end up having to raise the prices-which
only gives the business community even more reason to cut back on
business travel.  Into the bargain, food prices have rocketed while
wages are trying to keep up with inflation."

"Every other hotel group must be faced with the same problem."

"Yes, but the decision to move the corporate offices out of the New
York

Baron last year turned out to be far more expensive than I budgeted
for.

Four fifty Park Avenue may be a good address, but we could have built
two hotels in the South in exchange for having that address on our
letterhead."

"But your decision released three floors in the New York hotel which
allowed us to operate the new banquet rooms."

"And still the hotel only made a profit of two million while sitting on
real estate worth forty million."

"But there has to be a Baron in the center of New York.  You couldn't
think of selling our most prestigious hotel."

"Until it loses money_"

"But our reputation-"

"Your father was never sentimental about reputation when measured
against profits."

"So what are we doing about it?"

"I'm going to commission McKinsey and Company to carry out a detailed
assessment of the whole Group.  They'll give us an interim report in
three months and complete the study in one year if we still want it."

"But they're the top management consultants in New York.  Using them
can only add to our cost."

I "Yes, they'll be expensive.  But I wouldn't be surprised if it saved
us a considerable amount in the long run.  We have to remember that
modern hotels all around the world are serving different customers from
those your father built the Barons for.  I want to be sure we're not
missing something that's staring us in the face."

"But can't our senior executives give us that sort of adviceT'

"When McKinsey moved into Bloomingdale's," said Richard, "they
recommended that the store should change the location of seventeen of
its counters from their traditional positions.  Simple, you might say,
but the profits were up twenty-one percent the following year and none
of the executive staff had considered any changes necessary.  Perhaps
we face the same problem without realizing it."

"Heil, I feel so out of touch."

"Don't worry, Jessie darting, nothing is going to be acted on that
doesn't meet with your full approval."I And how is the bank
surviving?"

"Ironically, Lester's is making more money on loans and overdrafts than
at any time since the Depression.  My decision to move into gold when

Carter won the election has paid off handsomely.  If Carter is
re-elected

I'll buy more gold.  If Reagan captures the White House, I'll sell the
next day.  But don't you worry.  As long as you keep earning your
fifty-seven five as a congresswoman, I'll sleep easy knowing we have
something to fall back on in bad times..  .. Have you told Edward
about

Don Short and the twenty-four thousand?"

"Twenty-four thousand three hundred.  No, I haven't spoken to him in
days, and when I do, all he wants to talk about is how to run a hotel
group."

"I'm inviting him to join Lester's board at the annual meeting.  So it
could be the bank next."

"He'll soon be running the whole show," said Florentyna.

"That's exactly what I'm planning for when I become the First
Gentleman."

When Florentyna arrived back in Washington, she was SL-prised to find
that there was no message awaiting her from Bill Pearson.  His
secretary told her in was in California campaigning, which reminded her
how close the election was.  Jane( was quick to point out that the
legislature was sleeping on its feet again, waiting for the new
session, and that perhaps it might be wise for Florentyna to spend more
time in Chicago.

On Thursday, Bill Pearson phoned from California to tell Florentyna
that he had spoken with the ranking Republican and the chairman of the
Defense

Subcommittee and they both felt it would cause more trouble than it was
worth to raise the issue before the election.  He asked her not to
declare the donation, because his investigation would be hampered.

Florentyna strongly disagreed with his advice and even considered
raising the whole issue with the ranking committee members herself, but
when she phoned Edward he counseled against such a move on the ground
that the whip's office undoubtedly kn,~w more about bribery than she
did and it might look as if she had been working behind their backs.
Florentyna reluctantly agreed to wait until after the election.

Somehow Flornentyna-with continual reminders from Janet-managed to push
her voting record up to over eighty percent by the end of the session,
but only at the cost of turning down every invitation outside
Washington that appeared on her desk and she suspected there had been a
whole lot more that

Janet had not passed on to her.  When Congress adjourned, Florentyna
returned to Chicago to prepare for another election.

She was surprised to find, during the campaign, that she spent a
considerable part of her time sitting in the Cook County Democratic
headquarter~ on Randolph Street.  Although Carter's first two years had
not lived up to the expectations of the American voters, it was well
known that the local Republicans were finding it hard to convince
anyone to run against Florentyna.  To keep her occupied, her staff sent
her off to speak on behalf of other Democratic candidates in the state
as often as possible.

In the end, Stewart Lyle agreed to run again but only after he had made
it clear to his committee that he was not going to stomp around the
district night and day or waste any more of his money.  The GOP was not
pleased with

Lyle when he said in a private conversation- forgetting that nothing
was private during an election campaign" There is only one difference
between

Kane and the late Mayor Daley: Kane is honest.  "

The Ninth District of Illinois agreed with Stewart Lyle and sent
Florentyna back to Congress with a slightly increased majority, but she
noted the loss of fifteen of her colleagues from the House and three
from the Senate.

Among the casualties was Bill Pew son.

Florentyna called Bill at his home in California several times to
commiserate, but he was always out.  Each time she left a message on
the answering machine, but he did not return her calls.  She discussed
the problem with Richard and Edward, who both advised her to see the
Majority Leader immediately.

When Mark Chadwick heard the story he was horrified and said he would
be in touch with Bill Pearson at once and speak to her later that day.
Mark was as good as his word and phoned Florentyna it) report something
that chilled her: Bill Pearson had denied any knowledge of the $24,300
and was claiming that he had never discussed a bribe case with
Florentyna.  Pearson had reminded Chadwick that if Florenryna had
received $24,300 from any source, she was bound by law to report it-P
either as a campaign contribution or as income.  No mention of the
money had been made on her campaign forms and, under House rules, she
was not entitled to receive an honorarium of over $750 from anyone.
Florentyna explained to the Majority

Leader that Bill Pearson had asked her not to declare the money.  Mark
assured Florentyna that he believed her but was not quite clear how she
was going to prove that Pearson was lying.  It was common knowledge, he
added, that Pearson had been in financial trouble since his second
divorce.  Two alimonies when you're out of work would flatten most good
men, he pointed out.

Florentyna agreed to let Mark make a full investigation while she
remained silent on the matter.  Don Short rang during the week to
congratulate her on her victory and to remind her that the contract
with the Navy for the missile program was up for discussion in the
subcommittee that Thursday.

Florentyna bit her lip after Don Short's next statement: "I'm glad you
cashed the check.  I'm sure the money came in useful at election
time."

Florentyna immediately asked the Majority Leader to postpone the vote
on the missile program until he had completed his inquiry on Bill
Pearson.

Mark Chadwick explained that he couldn't comply with her request
because the allocated funds would go elsewhere if the decision was held
up.

Although Defense Secretary Brown didn't care which -company was awarded
the contract, he had warned them that all hell would break loose if a
decision was postponed any longer.  Finally, Chadwick reminded
Florentyna of her own speech about members who held up defense
contracts.  She didn't waste any time arguing.

"A,re you getting anywhere with your inquiries, Mark?"

"Yes.  We know the check was cashed at the Riggs National Bank on

Pennsylvania Avenue."

"My bank, and my branch," said Florentyna in disbelief.

"By a lady of about forty-five who wore dark glasses."

"Is there any good news?"  she asked.

"Yes," replied Mark.  "The manager considered the sum large enough to
make a note of the bill numbers in case some query arose later.  How
about that for irony?"  She tried to smile.  "Florentyna, in my
opinion, you have two choices.  You can blast the entire thing open at
Thursday's meeting or you can keep quiet until I have the whole messy
business sorted out.  One thing you can't do is talk publicly about
Bill Pearson's involvement until I get to the bottom of it."

"What do you want me to do?"

"The party would probably prefer you to keep quiet, but I know what I
would do if the decision were left to me."

"Thank you, Mark."

"No one's going to love you for it.  But that has never stopped you in
the past."

When Defense Subcommittee Chairman Thomas Lee gaveled the [tearing to
order, Florentyna had already been in her seat for several minutes
making notes.  The radar satellite contract was the sixth item on the
agenda and she did not speak on the first five items.  When she looked
toward the press table and the seats occupied by the public she could
not avoid the smiling Don Short.

"Item number six," said the chairman, stifling a slight yawn each
subject on the agenda was taking much too long in his opinion.  "We
must discuss today the three companies that have bid on the Navy's
missile project.

The Defense Department's Office of Procurement will make the final
decision, but they are still waiting our considered opinion.  Who would
like to open the discussion?"

Florentyna raised her hand.

"Congresswoman Kane."

"I have no particular preference, Mr.  Chairman, between Boeing and

Grumman, but under no circumstances could I support the Aerospace Plan
bid."  Don Short's face turned ashen with disbelief.

"Can you tell the committee why you feel so strongly against
Aerospace

Plan, Mrs.  Kane?"

"Certainly, Mr.  Chairman.  My reasons arise from a personal
experience.

Some weeks ago an employee of Aerospace Plan came to visit me in my
offices in order to go over the reasons why his company should be
awarded this contract.  Later he attempted to bribe me with a check for
twenty-four thousand three hundred dollars in exchange for my vote
today.  That man is now in this room and will no doubt have to answer
to the courts for his actions later."

When the chairman of the committee had finally brought the meeting back
to order, Florentyna explained how the testimonial dinner had worked
and she named Don Short as the man who had given her the money.  She
turned to look at him, but he had vanished.  Florentyna continued her
statement but avoided making any reference to Bill Pearson.  She still
considered that to be a party matter, but when she finished her story
she couldn't help noticing that two other members of the committee were
as white as

Don Short had been.  "in view of this serious allegation made by my
colleague, I intend to dch~y any decision on this item until a full
inquiry has been carried out," Chairman Lee announced.

Florentyna thanked him and left for her office immediately.  She walked
down the corridor, surrounded by reporters, but made no reply to any of
their insistent questions.

She talked to Richard on the phone that night and he warned her that
the next few days were not going to be pleasant.

"Why, Richard?  I've only told the truth."

"I know.  But now there are a group of people fighting for their lives
on that committee and they only see you as the enemy, so you can forget
the

Marquis of Queensberry rules."

When she read the papers the next morning, she found out exactly what

Richard had meant.

"Congresswoman Kane Accuses Aerospace Plan of Bribery," ran one
headline, while another read, "Company Lobbyist Claims Member of
Congress Took

Money as Campaign Contribution."  Once Florentyna had seen that most of
the papers were running roughly the same story, she jumped out of bed,
dressed quickly, went without breakfast and drove straight to the

Capitol.  When she reached her office she studied all the papers in de
tai

I, and without exception they all wanted to know where the $24,300 had
disappeared.  "And so do I," said Florentyna out loud.  The headline in
the

Chicago Sun-Times was the most unfortunate: "Representative Kane
Accuses

Space Company of Bribery after Check Cashed."  True, but misleading.

Richard called to say that Edward was already on his way down from
New

York and not to talk to the press until she had spoken with him.  She
would not have been able to in any case, because the FBI sent two
senior agents to interview her at ten o'clock that morning.

In the presence of Edward and the Majority Leader, Florentyna made a
complete statement.  The 14BI men asked her not to inform the press
of

Bill Pearson's involvement until they had completed their own
investigation.  Once again, she reluctantly agreed.

During the day some members of the House went out of their way to
congratulate her.  Others conspicuously avoided her.

In the lead story in the Chicago Tribune that afternoon the paper
wanied to know where the $24,300 had gone.  They said it was their
unfortunate duty to remind the public that Congresswoman Kane's father
had been tried and found guilty of bribery of a public official in the
Chicago courts in 1962.  Florentyna could almost hear Ralph Brooks
calling from the

State's Attorney's office to let them have all the salient details.

Edward helped Florentyna to keep her temper, and Richard flew down
from

New York every night to be with her.  Three days and three nights
passed while the papers kept the story running and Ralph Brooks made a
statement from the State's Attorney's office saying: "Much as I admire
Mrs.  Kane and believe in her innocence, I feel it might be wise in the
circumstances for her to step down from Congress until the FBI
investigatiou is completed."  It made Florentyna even more determined
to stay put, especially when Mark Chadwick phoned to tell her not to
give up.  It could only be a matter of time before the guilty man was
brought to justice.

On the fourth day with no more news from the FBI, Florentyna wits at
her lowest point when a reporter from the Washington Post phoned.

"Mrs.  Kane, may I ask how you feel about Congressman Buchanan's
statement on Aerogate?"

"Has he turned against me as well?"  she asked quietly.

"Hardly," said the voice from the other end of the line.  "I'll read
what he said.  I quote: "I have known Representative Kane for nearly
five years as a bitter adversary and she is many things that drive me
to despair, but as we say in Tennessee, you'll have to swim to the end
of the river to find anyone more honest.  If Mrs.  Kane is not to be
trusted, then I do not know one honest person in either chamber of
Congress."

Florentyna phoned Bob Buchanan a few minutes later.

"Now don't you go thinking I'm getting soft in my old age," he barked

"You put a foot wrong in that chamber and I'll cut it off."  Florentyna
laughed for the first time in days.

It was a cold December wind that whistled across the east front of the
Capitol as Florentyna walked back alone to the Longworth

Building after the last vote that day.  The newsboy on the corner was
shouting out the evening headlines.  She couldn't catch what he was
saying- something, someone, arrested.  She hurried toward the boy,
fumbling in her pocket for a coin, but all she could find was a
twenty-dollar bill.

"I can't change that," the boy said.

"Don't bother," said Florrntyna as she grabbed the paper and read the
lead story first quickly and then slowly.  "Former Congressman Bill
Pearson," she read aloud as if she wanted to be sure the newsboy could
hear, "has been arrested by the FBI in Fresno, California, in
connection with the Aerogate scandal.  Over seventeen thousand dollars
in cash was found hidden in the rear fender of his new Ford.  He was
taken to the nearest police station, questioned and later charged with
grand larceny and three other misdemeanors.  The young woman who was
with him at the time was also charged, as an accomplice."

Florentyna leaped up and down in the snow as the newsboy quickly
pocketed the twenty dollars and ran to sell his papers on another
corner.  He had always been warned about those Hill types.

"My con(2ratulations on the news, Mrs.  Kane."  The maitre d'hotel of
die

Jockey Club was the first of several people to comment that evening.

Richard had flown down from New York to take Florentyna to a
celebration dinner.  On her way into the oak-paneled room, other
politicians and members of Washington society came over to say how
pleased they were that the truth was at last out.  Florentyna smiled at
each one of them, a Washington smile that she had learned to develop
after nearly five years in politics.

The next day the Chicago Tribune and the Sun-Times came out with glo\A,
ing tributes to their representative's ability to stay calm in a
crisis.

Florentyna gave a wry smile, determined to back her own judgment in the
future.  Any comment from Ralph Brooks's office was conspicuously
absent.

Edward sent a large bunch of freesias, and William sent a telegram
from

Harvard: 11 SEE YOU TONIGHT IF YOU'RE NOT THE WOMAN IN FRESNO STILL

BEING

HELD FOR FURTHER QUESTIONING."  Annabel arrived home seemingly unaware
of her mother's recent problems to announce she had been accepted at
Radcliffe.

Her headmistress at the Madeira School later confided to Florentyna
that her daughter's acceptance had turned out to be a very close thing,
although it couldn't have hurt that Mr.  Kane had been at Harvard and
that she herself was a Radcliffe graduate.  Florentyna was surprised
that her reputation was such that she could influence her daughter's
future without lifting a finger and confessed to Richard later what a
relief it was that Annabel's life was more settled.

Richard asked his daughter in what subject she planned to major.

"Psychology and social relations," Annabel replied without
hesitation.

"Psychology and social relations are not real subjects but merely an
excuse to talk about yourself for three years," Richard declared.

William, now a sophomore at Harvard, nodded in sage agreement with his
father and later asked the old man if he could up his allowance to five
hundred dollars a term.

When an amendment to the health bill, prohibiting abortions after six
w,~eks, came up on the calendar, Florentyna spoke for the first time
since the Aerogate scandal.  As she rose from her place, she was
greeted with friendly smiles and a ripple of applause from both sides
of the aisle.

Florentyna made a powerful plea for the life of the mother before the
unborn child, reminding Congress that there were only eighteen other
members who could even experience pregnancy.  Bob Buchanan rose from
his place and referred to the distinguished lady from Chicago as the
worst sort of simpleton who would be claiming next that you could not
discuss a future space program unless you had circled the moon, and he
pointed out that there was only one member in either house who had
managed that.

Within it few days Don Short and his $24,300 seemed to be a thing of
the past as Florentyna returned to her normal hectic congressional
schedule.

She had moved up two more notches on the Appropriations Committee and
when she looked around the table, she began to feel like an
old-timer.



WHEN FLORENTYNA RETURNED TO CHICAGO she found that Democrats were
voicing aloud their fears that having Jimmy Carter in the White House
might not necessarily help their chances.  Gone were the days when an
incumbent could take it for granted that he would be returned to the
Oval Office, and take with him those of his party who were fighting
marginal seats.

Richard reminded Florentyna that Eisenhower was the last President to
complete two terms in office.

The Republicans were also beginning to flex their muscles, and after
the announcement that Jerry Ford would not seek the Presidency, George
Bush and Ronald Reagan appeared to be the front-runners.  In the
corridors of

Congress it was being openly suggested that Edward Kennedy should run
against Carter.

Florentyna continued her daily work in the House and avoided being
associated with either camp, although she received overtures from both
campaign managers and more than her usual allocation of White House
invitations.  She remained noncommittal, as she wasn't convinced that
either candidate was right to lead the party in 1980.

While others spent their time campaigning, Florentyna put pressure on
the

President to take a stronger line when dealing with heads of state from
behind the Iron Curtain and pressed for a firmer conurtitment to NATO,
but she appeared to make little headway.  When Jimmy Carter told an
astonished audience that he was surprised the Russians could go back on
their word, Florentyna said despairingly to Janet that any Pole in

Chicago could have told him that.

But her final split with the President came when the socalled students
took over the American Embassy in Tehran on

November 4, 1979, and held fifty-three Americans hostage.  The
President appeared to do little except make "Born Again" speeches and
say his hands were tied.  Florentyna proceeded to bombard thu White
House by every means at her disposal, demanding that the President
stand up for America.  When eventually he did attempt a rescue mission,
it aborted, resulting in a sad loss of reputation for the United States
in the eyes of the rest of the world.

During a defense debate on the floor of the House soon after this
humiliating exercise, Florentyna departed from her notes to deliver at)
off-the-cuff remark.  "How can a nation that possesses the energy,
genius and originality to put a man on the moon fail to land three
helicopters safely in a desert?"  She had momentarily forgotten that
the proceedings of the House were now televised and all three networks
showed that part of her speech on their evening news bulletins.

She didn't need to remind Richard of George Novak's wisdom in insisting
on not renewing Lester's loan to the Shah and when the Russians marched
over the Afghanistan border, Richard canceled their holiday to watch
the

Olympics in Moscow.

The Republicans went to Detroit in July and chose Ronald Reagan with

George Bush as his running mate.  A few weeks later the Democrats came
to

New York and the party confirmed Jimmy Carter with even less enthusiasm
than they had showed for Adlai Stevenson.  When the victorious Carter
entered Madison Square Garden, even the balloons refused to come down
from the ceiling.

Florentyna tried to continue her work in a Congress that was not
certain which would be the majority party in a few months' time.  She
pushed through amendments on the Defense Appropriations bill and the
Paperwork

Reduction Act.  As the election drew nearer, she began to fear that the
fight for her own seat might be close when the Republicans replaced

Stewart Lyle with an enthusiastic young advertising executive, Ted

Simmons.

With Janet prodding her, she once again pushed her voting record up to
around eighty percent by only accepting invitations to speak in

Washington or in Illinois during the last six months prior to the
election.

Carter and Reagan seemed to be living in Chicago, flying in and out
of

Illinois like two cuckoos in one clock.  The polls were declaring it
was too close to call, but Florentyna was not convinced after she had
seen the candidates debate in Cleveland in front of a television
audience estimated at 100 million Americans  The next day Bob Buchanan
told her' that Reagan might not have won the debate, but he sure as
hell hadn't lost it, and for someone trying to remove the White House
incumbent, that was all-important.

As Election Day drew nearer, the issue of the hostages in Iran became
more and more a focal point in the minds of the American people, who
began to doubt that Carter could ever resolve the problem.  On the
streets of Chicago, supporters told Florentyna that they would return
her to

Congress but they could not back Carter for a second term, Richard said
he knew exactly how they felt and predicted that Reagan would win
easily.

Florentyna took his view seriously and spent the last few weeks of the
campaign working as if she were an unknown candidate fighting her first
election.

Her efforts were not helped by a torrential rainstorm in Chicago which
poured down on the streets right up until Election Day.

When the last vote had been counted even she was surprised by the size
of the Reagan victory, which took the Senate with him on his coattails
and only just failed to capture the House for the Republicans.

Florentyna was returned to Congress with her majority cut to 9,031. She
flew into Washington, battered but not beaten, a few hours before the
hostages returned.

The new President lifted the spirit of the nation with his inaugural
adJress.  Richard, in a morning coat, smiled all the way through the
speech and applauded loudly at the section he would quote to Florentyna
for several years after.

We hear much of special interest groups, but our concern must be for a
special interest group that has been too long neglected.  It knows no
sectional boundaries, crosses ethnic and racial divisions and political
party lines.  It is made up of men and women who raise our food, patrol
our streets, man our mines and factories, teach our children, keep our
homes and heal us when we're sick.  Professionals, industrialists,
shopkeepers, clerks, cabbies and truck drivers.  They are, in short, we
the people, this breed called Americans.

After the speech had been enthusiastically received the President gave
a final wave to the crowd in front of the main stand, and turned to
leave the podium.

Two Secret Service men guided him through a human aisle created by the
honor guard.

Once the Presidential party had reached the bottom of the steps, Mr.
Reagan and the First Lady climbed into the back of a limousine,
obviously unwilling to follow the example of the Carters and \~ alk
down Constitution

Avenue to their new home.  As the car moved slowly off, one of the
Secret

Service men flicked a switch on his two-way radio.  Rawhide returns
to

Crown" was all he said, and then, staring through a pair of binoculars,
he followed the limousine all the way to the White House gates.

When Florentyna returned to Congress in January 1981, it was a
different

Washington.  Republicans no longer needed to beg support for every
measure they espoused, because the elected representatives knew the
country was demanding change.  Florentyna enjoyed the new challenge of
studying the program Reagan sent up to the Hill and was only too happy
to support gi vat sections of it.

She had become so occupied with amendments to the Reagan budget and
defense program that Janet had to point out to her an item in the
Chicago Tribune which might eventually remove her from the House.

Senator Nichols of Illinois announced this morning that He would not be
seeking reelection to the Senate in 1982.

Florentyna was sitting at her desk, taking in the significance of this
stateMent, when the editor of the Chicago Sun-Times called to ask tier
if she would be entering the race for the Senate in 1982.  Flotentyna
realized that it was only natural for the press to speculate on her
candidacy after three and a half terms as a representative.

"It doesn't seem that long ago," she teased, "that your distinguished
journal was suggesting I resign."

"There was an English prime minister who once said that a week was a
long time in politics.  So where do you stand, Florentyna?"

"It's never crossed my mind," she said, laughing.

"That's one statement no one is going to believe and I am certainly not
'going to print it.  Try again."

"Why are you pushing me so hard when I still have over a year to
decide?"

"You haven't heard?"

"Heard what?"  she asked.

"At a press conference held this morning at City Hall the State's
Attorney announced that he's a candidate."

"Ralph Brooks to Run for Senate" ran the banner headline across the
afternoon editions of the newspapers of Illinois.  Many reporters
mentioned in their columns that Florentyna had not yet made a decision
on whether she would challenge the State's Attorney.  Once again
pictures of Mr.  and Mrs.

Brooks stared up at Florentyna.  The damn man seems to get better
looking all the time, she grumbled.  Edward called from New York to say
he thought she should run but advised her to hold back until the Brooks
publicity machine ran out of steam.  "You might even be able to
orchestrate your announcement so that it looks as if you are bowing to
public pressure."

"Whom are the party faithful backing?"

"My estimate is sixty-forty in your favor, but since I'm no longer even
a committeeman it's hard to predict.  Don't forget it's over a year to
the primary so there's no need to rush in, especially now that Brooks
has made his move.  You can sit back and wait until the time suits
you."

"Why do you think he announced so early?"

"To try and frighten you off, I suppose.  Maybe he figures you might
hold back until 1984."

"Perhaps that's a good idea."

"No, I don't agree.  Never forget what happened to John Culver in iowa.
He decided to wait because he felt it would be easier later when weaker
opposition was around, so his personal assistant ran instead of him,
won the seat and remains in the Senate till this day."

"I'll think about it, and let you know."

The truth was that Florentyna thought of little else during the next
few weeks, because she knew that if she could beat Brooks this time, he
would be finished once and for all.  She was in no doubt that Ralph
Brooks still had ambitions that stretched about sixteen blocks beyond
the Senate.  On

Janet's advice, she now accepted every major invitation to speak in the
state and turned down almost all other outside commitments.  "That will
give you a chance to find out how the land lies," said Janet.

"Keep nagging me, Janet."

"Don't worry, I will.  That's what you pay me for."

Florentyna found herself flying to Chicago twice a week for nearly six
months and her voting record in Congress was barely above sixty
percent.  Ralph Brooks had the advantage of not living in Washington
four days a week or having his record in court expressed in percentage
terms.

Added to that, Chicago had elected Jane Byre mayor the previous year.

There were those who said one woman in Illinois politics was quite
enough.

Nevertheless.  Florentyna felt confident after she had covered most of
the slate that Edward had been right, that she did have a 60-40 chance
of defeating Ralph Brooks.  In truth, she believed that defeating
Brooks might be harder than getting elected to the Senate because the
midterm election traditionally ran against the White House incumbent.

One day Florentyna did leave clear in her diary was for the annual
meeting of the Vietnam Veterans of America.  They had chosen Chicago
for their celebrations and invited Senator John Tower of Texas and
Florentyna to be the keynote speakers.  The Illinois press was quick to
point out the respect with which outsiders treated their favorite
daughter.  The paper went on to say that the very fact that the vets
could couple her with the chairman of the Senate's Armed Services
Committee was high praise indeed.

Florentyna was carrying a full load in the House.  She successfully
sponsored the "Good Samaritan" amendment to the Superfund Act making it
advantageous for companies that put forth genuine efforts to dispose of
toxic wastes.  To her surprise even Bob Buchanan supported her
amendment.

While she was leaning on the rail at the back of the chamber waiting
for the vote on the final passage of her amendment, he told her that he
hoped she would run for the Senate seat.

"You're only saying that because you want to see me out of this
place."

He chuckled.  "That would have been one compensation, I must admit,
but

I don't think you can stay here much longer if you're destined to live
in the White House."

Florentyna looked at him in astonishment.  He didn't even glance toward
her but continued to gaze into the packed chamber.

"I have no doubt you'll get there.  I just thank God I won't be alive
to witness your inauguration," he continued before going off to vote
for

Florentyna's amendment.

Whenever Florentyna went to Chicago she avoided the question of her
candidacy for the Senate, although it was obviously on everyone else's
mind.  Edward pointed out to her that if she did not run this time it
might be her last chance for twenty years becausu Ralph

Brooks was still only forty-four and it would be virtually impossible
to defeat him once he was the incumbent.

"Especially when he has 'the Brooks charisma," mocked Florentyna in
reply.  "In my case," she continued, "who would be willing to wait
twenty years?"

"Harold Stassen," Edward replied.

Florentyna laughed.  "And everyone knows how well he did.  I'll have to
make up my mind one way or the other before I speak to the Vietnam
Vets."

Florentyna and Richard were spending the weekend at Cape Cod and were
joined by Edward on Saturday evening.

Late into the night they discussed every alternative facing Florentyna
ai well as the effect it would have on Edward I s work at the Baron if
he was to head up the campaign.  When they retired to bed in the early
hours of Sunday morning they had come to one conclusion.

The International Room of the Conrad Hilton was packed with two
thousand men, and the only other women in sight were waitresses.
Richard had accompanied Florentyna to Chicago and was seated next to
Senator Tower.

When Florentyna rose to add russ the gathering, she was trembling.  She
began by assuring the vets of her commitment to a strong America and
then went on to tell them of her pride in her father when he had been
awarded the Bronze Star by President Truman, and of her greater pride
in them for having served their country in America's first unpopular
war.  The veterans whistled and banged their tables in delight.  She
reminded them of her commitment to the MX missile system and her
determination that

Americans Nk ould live in fear of no one, especially the Soviets.

A want Moscow to know," she said, "that there may be some men in
Congress who would be happy to compromise America's position, but not
this woman."

The vets cheered again.  "The isolationist campaign that President
Reagan is pursuing will not help Poland in its present crisis or
whichever nation the Russians decide to attack next.  At some point we
must stand firm and not wait until the Soviets are camped along the
Canadian border."  Even Senator Tower showed his approval of that
sentiment.

Florentyna waited for complete silence before saying, "I have chosen
tonight, while I am assembled with a group of people whom everyone in
America admires, to say that as long as there are men and women who are
willing to serve their country as you have done, I hope to continue to
serve in the public life of this great nation, and to that end I intend
to submit my name as a candidate for the

United States Senate."

Few people in the room heard the word "Senate," because pandemonium
broke out.  Everyone in the gathering who could stand, stood, and those
who couldn't banged their tables.  Florentyna ended her address with
the words

"I pledge myself to an America that does not fear war from any
aggressor.

At the same time, ( pray that you are the last group of veterans this
country ever needs."

When she.  sat down, the cheering lasted for several minutes and
Senator

Tower went on to praise Florentyna for one of the finest speeches he
had ever heard.

Edward flew in from New York to mastermind the campaign while Janet
kept in daily touch from Washington.  Money flowed in from every
quarter; the work that Florentyna had put in for her constituents was
now beginning to pay off.  With twelve weeks to go to the primary, the
polls consistently showed a 58-42 lead for candidate Kane across the
state.

All through the campaign, Florentyna's staffers were willing to work
late into the night, but even they could not arrange for her to be in
two places at once.  Ralph Brooks criticized her voting record along
with the lack of real results she had achieved as a representative in
Congress.  Some of his attacks began to hit home while Brooks continued
to show the energy of a ten year-old.  Despite this, he didn't seem to
make much headway as the polls settled around 55-45 in her favor.  Word
reached Florentyna that Ralph

Brooks's camp was feeling despondent and his campaign contributions
were drying up.

Richard flew into Chicago every weekend and the two of them lived out
of suitcases, often sleeping in the homes of downstate volunteers.  One
of

Florentyna's younger campaign workers drove them tirelessly around the
state in a small blue Chevette.  Florentyna was shaking hands outside
factory gates on the outskirts of cities before breakfast, attending
farmers' meetings in the rural towns of Illinois before lunch, but
somehow she still found time to fit in occasional banking associations
and editorial boards in Chicago during the afternoon before an
inevitable evening speech and a welcome night at the Baron.

During the same period she made one exception and never missed the
monthly meetings of the Remagen Trust.

When site did eat, it was endless Dutch-treat breakfasts and pot-luck
dinners.  At night before falling into bed she would jot down more
facts and figures-picked up in that day's travels-into the dog-eared
black briefing book that was never far from her side.  She fell asleep
trying to remember names, countless names, of people who would be
insulted if she ever forgot the role they had played in her campaign.
Richard would return to New York on Sunday night every bit as tired as
Florentyna.  Never once did he complain or bother his wife with any
problems facing the bank, or the Baron Group.  She smiled up at him as
they said goodbye at yet another cold February airport: she noticed he
was wearing a pair of the blue leather gloves he had bought for his
father in Bloomingdale's over twenty years befoje.

"I still have one more pair to go through, Jessie, before I can start
looking for another woman."  he said, and left her smiling.

Each morning Florentyna rose more determined to win a seat in the
Senate.

If she was sad about anything, it was how little she s,(w of William
and

Annabel.  William, now sporting a Fidel Castro mustache, looked set for
a summa cum laude, while Annabel brought a different young man home
each vacation.

From past experience, Florentyna had learned to expect a thunderbolt to
land sometime during an election campaign, but she had not imagined
that a meteorite would accompany it.  During the past year, Chicago had
been shaken by a series of brutal local murders committed by a man the
press had dubbed the Chicago Cutthroat.  After the killer had slashed
the throat of each of his victims, he carved a heart on their foreheads
to leave the police in no doubt who had struck again.  More and more in
public gatherings Florentyna and Ralph Brooks found that they were
being tackled on the question of law and order.  At night the streets
of Chicago were almost deserted because of the reputation of the killer
whom the police were unable to apprehend.  To

Florentyna's relief, the murderer was caught one night on the
Northwestern

University campus after he had been taken by surprise while in the act
of attacking a college girl.

Florentyna made a statement the next morning in praise of the Chicago
police force and wrote a personal note to the officer who had made the
arrest.  She assumed that that would be the end of the matter until she
read the morning paper.  Ralph Brooks had announced that he was
personally going to prosecute the case against the Chicago

Cutthroat even if it resulted in his sacrificing, the Senate seat.  It
was a brilliant stroke that even Florentyna had to admire.  Papers all
across the nation ran pictures of the handsome State's Attorney next to
that of the vicious killer.

The trial began five weeks before the primary, and Ralph Brooks was on
the front page every day, demanding the death penalty in this case and
other cases of Murder I so that the people of Chicago could once again
walk the streets safely at night.  Florentyna made press statement
after press statement on the energy crisis, airport noise regulations,
grain price supports, even Russian troop movements on the Polish border
after martial law was instituted, but she couldn't knock the State's
Attorney off the front page.  At a mae ting with the editorial board of
the Tribune,

Florentyna complained good-naturedly to the editor, who was apologetic
but pointed out that Ralph Brooks was selling newspapers.  Florentyna
sat in her Washington office, impotently aware that she had no
effective way of countering her opponent.

In the hope that the clash might give her a chance to shine for a
change, she challenged Ralph Brooks to a public debate.  But the S.A.
informed the press that he could not consider any such confrontation
while so grave a public responsibility rested on his shoulders.  "If I
lose my chance to represent the good people of Illinois because of
this~ decision, so be it," he repeated again and again.  Florentyna
watched another percentage point slip away.

On the day that the Chicago Cutthroat was convicted, the polls showed
that Florentyna's lead had fallen to 52-48.  There were two weeks to
go.

Florentyna was planning to spend those last fourteen days stumping
through the state when the meteorite landed.

Richard phoned the Tuesday after the trial had ended to tell her that

Annabel's roommate had called to say Annabel had not returned to

Radcliffe on Sunday night and she hadn't heard from her since.
Florentyna flew to New York immediately.  Richard informed the police
and hired a private detective to find his daughter and then sent
Florentyna back to

Chicago after the police had assured her that they handled 220,000

missing persons cases every year with only one percent ending in any
serious trouble, and most of those involved were children under
fifteen.

Richard was not convinced by police statistics.

When Florentyna got back to Chicago she walked around in a daze,
phoning

Richard every hour, but he had no news for her.  With a week to go, the
polls showed Florentyna leading only 51 to 49, and Edward tried to make
her concentrate on the campaign.  But the words of Bob Buchanan kept
coming back to her: "This place can only be a-poor substitute for your
family, " and she began to wonder if only .. . After a bad weekend
during which Florentyna felt she had lost more votes than she had
gained,

Richard called in excitement to say that Annabel had been found and
that she had been in New York the whole time.

"Thank God," said Florentyna, tears of relief welling up in her eyes.
"Is she all right?"

"She's fine, and resting in Mount Sinai Hospital."

"What happened?"  asked Florentyna anxiously.

"She had an abortion."

Florentyna flew back to New York that morning to be with her
daughter.

On the flight she thought she recognized a party worker sitting a few
rows back: there was something about his smile.  Once she had arrived
at the hospital she discovered that Annabel had not even realized she
had been reported missing.  Edward begged Florentyna to return to
Chicago because the media were continually asking where she was.
Although he had managed to keep Annabel's private life out of the
newspapers, they were becoming highly suspicious of why Florentyna was
in New York rather than

Illinois.  For the first time, she ignored Edward's advice.

Ralph Brooks was quick to leap in and suggest that she had returned
to

New York because there was a crisis at the Baron Group and that that
had always been her first priority.  With Edward pulling and Annabel
pushing,

Florentyna returned to Chicago on Monday night to find every paper in

Illinois saying the election was too close to call.

On Tuesday morning Florentyna read the headline she most dreaded:

"Candidate's Daughter Has Abortion."  The article that followed
revealed every detail, even down to the bed Annabel was in.  "Keep your
head down and pray" was all Edward said as he dragged her through a
nerve-racking day.

Florentyna rose at six o'clock on Election Day and Edward drove her to
as many polling places as she could reach in fourteen ~ours.  At every
stop, campaign workers waved blue and-white "Kane for Senate" placards
and handed out leaflets on Florentyna's positions on the major issues.
At one stop a voter asked Florentyna for her views on abortion.
Florentyna looked at the woman indignantly and said, "I can assure you
that my views haven't changed," before realizing that the question was
totally innocent.  Her workers were fireless in their efforts to get
out every Kane supporter, and Flornentyna didn't stop working until the
polls closed.  She prayed that she had held on in the way Carter had
against Ford in 1976.  Richard flew in that night with news that
Annabel had returned to Radcliffe and was now feeling fine,

When Florentyna returned to the Baron, husband and wife sat alone in
their suite.  Three television sets were turned to the networks as the
returns came in from all over the state deciding if Brooks or she would
be chosen to oppose the Republican candidate in November.  At eleven
o'clock, Florentyna had a 2 percent lead.  At twelve o'clock Brooks was
one percent ahead.  At two o'clock, Florentyna had edged back into the
lead by less than one percent.  At three o'clock she fell asleep in

Richard's arms.  He did not wake her when he knew the outcome because
he wanted her to sleep.

A little later he nodded off himself and woke with a start to find her
looking out the window, her fist clenched.  The television kept
flashing up the result: Ralph Brooks selected as Democratic candidate
for the

Senate by 7,"8 votes, a margin of less than half a percentage point. On
the screen was a picture of Brooks waving and smiling to his
supporters.

Florentyna turned around and stared at the screen once more.  Her eyes
did not rest on the triumphant State's Attorney but on a man standing
directly behind him.  Now she knew where she had seen that smile
before.

Florentyna's career in politics had come to a halt.  She was now out
of

Congress and would have to wait another two years before she could even
hope to re-enter public life.  After Annabel's problems, she wondered
if the time had come to return to the Baron Group and a more private
existence.  Richard didn't agree.

"I would be sorry if you gave up after all the time you've put into
it."

"Perhaps that's the point.  If I hadn't become so involved with my own
life and taken a little more interest in Annabel, she might not be
facing an identity crisis."

"An identity crisis.  That's the sort of garbage I'd expect to hear
from one of her sociology professors, not from you.  I haven't noticed
William colLapsing under the strain of an 'identity crisis."  Darting,
Annabel has had an affair and was careless; it's as simple its that. If
everyone who took a lover was considered abnormal, there would only be
a few of us strange ones left.  What she most needs at this moment is
to be treated as an equal by you."

Florentyna dropped everything and took Annabel to Barbados.  During
long walks along the beach, she learned of the affair her daughter had
had with a man at Vassar.  Florentyna still couldn't get used to the
idea of men's going to women's colleges.  Annabel wouldn't name the man
and tried to explain that although she still liked him, she didn't want
to spend the rest of her life with him.  "Did you marry the first man
you went to bed with'?"  she asked.  Florentyna didn't reply
immediately, and then told

Annabel about Scott Roberts.

"What a creep," said Annabel after she had heard the story.  "How lucky
you were to rind Dad in Bloomingdale's."

"No, Annabel.  As your father continually reminds me, he did the fin
dine

Mother and daughter grew closer together in those days than they had
been for years.  Richard and William joined them in the second week of
the holiday and they spent fourteen days together getting plump and
brown.

Richard was delighted to find Annabel and Florentyna so relaxed in each
other's company, and touched when his daughter started referring to

William as "my big brother."  Richard and Annabel re-ularlv beat
William and Florentyna at golf in the afternoons before spending long
evenings chatting over dinner.

When the holiday came to an end they were all sad to be returning
home.

Florentyna confessed that she did not feel like throwing herself back
into the political fray, until Annabel insisted that the last thing she
wanted was a mother who sat home and cooked.

It felt strange to Florentyna that she would not be fighting a campaign
herself that year.  During her battle with Brooks for the Senate, the

Democrats had selected Hugh Abbots, a capable young Chicago lawyer, to
run for her seat in Congress.  Some memberi of the committee admitted
that they would have held up the decision if they thought Brooks had
had the slightest chance of winning the party's nomination for the
Senate.

Many voiers asked Florentyna to run as an independent candidate, but
she knew the party would not approve, especially as they would be
looking for another senatorial representative in two years' time: the
other United

States senator, David Rodgers, had repeatedly made it clear that he
would not be running for re-election in 1984.

Florentyna flew into Chicago to speak on behalf of Hugh Abbots on
soveral occasions and was delighted when he won the seat, even though
he captured it by only 3,223 votes.

Florentyna faced the fact that she would now have to spend two years in
the political wilderness, and it didn't ease the pain when she read
the

Chicago Tribune's headline the day after the election:

BROOKS ROMPS HOME IN SENATE RACE

THE FUTURE

1982-1995

WILLIAM FIRST BROUGHT JOANNA CABOT HOME at Christmas.  Florentvna knew
instinctively that they would be married, and not just ~because her
father turned out to be a distant relative of Richard's.  Joanna was
dark-haired, slim and graceful and shyly expressive of her obvious
feelings for William.

For his part, William was attentive and conspicuously proud of the
young woman who stood.  quietly by his side.  "I suppose I might have
expected you to produce a son who has been educated in New York, lived
in Washington and

Chicago but ends up returning to Boston to choose his wife," Florentyna
teased Richard.

"William is your son as well," he reminded her.  "And what makes you
think he'll marry Joanna?"

Fiorentyna just laughed.  "I predict Boston in the spring."

She turned out to be wrong: they had to wait until the summer.

William was in his final year as an undergraduate and he had taken his
business boards and was waiting anxiously to be accepted at the
Harvard

School of Business.

"In my day," said Richard, "you waited until you had finished school
and made a little money before you thought about marriage."  "That just
isn't true, Richard.  You left Harvard early to marry me and for
several weeks afterwards I kept you."

"You never told me that Dad," said William.

"Your father has what in politics is called a selective memory.  "

William left laughing.

"I still think-"

"They're in love, Richard.  Have you grown so old you can't see what's
staring you in the face?"

"No, but--"

"You're not yet fifty and you're already acting like an old
fuddy-duddy.

William Is almost the same age as you when you married me.  Well,
haven't you anything to say?"

"No.  You re just like all politicians: you keep interrupting,"

The Kanes went to stay with the Cabots early in the new year and
Richard immediately liked John Cabot, Joanna's father, and was
surprised that, with so many family friends in common, they had not yet
met before.

Joanna had two little sisters, who spent the weekend running around

William.

"I've changed my mind," Richard said that Saturday night in bed.  "I
think

Joanna is just what William needs."

Florentyna put on an extreme mid-European accent and asked, "What if

Joanna had been a little Polish immigrant who sold gloves in

Bloomingdale's?"

Richard took Florentyna in his arms and said, "I would have told him
not to buy three pairs of gloves because it would work out cheaper just
to marry the girl."

Preparations for the forthcoming wedding seemed complicated and
demanding to Florentyna, who remembered vividly how simply she and
Richard had been married and how Bella and Claude had lugged the double
bed up the stairs in San Francisco.  Luckily Mrs.  Cabot wanted to
handle all the arrangements rier self anti whenever something was
expected of the Kanes,

Annabel was only too happy to leap forward as the family
repreientative.

In early Jinuary, Florentyna returned to Washington to clear out her
office.  Colleagues stopped and chatted with her as if she hadn't left
the House.  Janet was waiting for her with a pile of letters, most of
them saying how sorry they were that Florentyna would not be returning
to

Congress but hoping that she would run for the Senate again in two
years' time.

Florentyna answered every one of them but couldn't help wondering if
something might go wrong in 1984 as well.  If it did, that would finish
her political career completely.

Florentyna left the capital for New York, only to find herself getting
in e'eryone's way.  The Baron Group and Lester's were being competently
run by Richard and Edward.  The Group had changed considerably since

Richard had implemented the many improvements suggested by McKinsey
and

Company.  She was continually surprised by the new Baron of Beef
restaurants that could now be found on every ground floor and thought
she would never get used to the computer banks alongside the
hairdresser's in the hotel lobby.

When Florentyna went to see Gianni to check on the progress of the
shops, he assumed she had only come in for a new dress.

During those first few months away from Washington, Florentyna became
more restless than she could remember.  She traveled to Poland twice
and could only feel despair for her countrymen as she looked around at
the devastation, wondering where the Russians would strike next.
Florenlyna took advantage of these journeys to meet European leaders
who continually referred to their fear that America was becoming more
and more isolationist with each succeeding President.

When she returned to America, once again the question of whether she
should run for the Senate loomed in front of her.  Janet, who had
remained on

Florentyna's staff, began to discuss tactics with Edward Winchester
which included regular trips to Chicago for Florentyna, who accepted
any speaking engagement-, in Illinois that came her way.  Florentyna
felt relieved when

Senator Rodgers called her over the Easter recess to say that he hoped
she would run for his seat the following year and added that she could
count on his backing.

As Florentyna checked over the Chicago newspapers that were sent to her
each week, she could not help noticing that Ralph Brooks was already
making a name for himself in the Senate.  He had somehow managed to get
on the prestigious Foreign Relations Committee as well as the
Agriculture Committee-so important to Illinois fanners  He was also the
only freshman senator to be appointed to the Democratic Task Force on
Regulator~ Reform.

It made her more determined, not less.

William and Joanna's wedding turned out to be one of the happiest days
of

Florentyna's life.  Her twenty -two-year-old son standing in tails next
to his bride brought back to her memories of his father in San
Francisco.  The silver band hung loosely on his left wrist, and
Florentyna smiled as she noticed the little scar on his right hand.
Joanna, although she looked shy and demure by William's side, had
already rid her future husband of some of his more eccentric habits,
among them several gaudy ties and the Fidel

Castro mustache William had been so proud of before he had met her.

Grandmother Kane, as everyone now referred to Ktite, was looking more
and more like a pale-blue battleship at full steam as she plowed
through the guests, kissing some and allowing others-those few older
than herself-to kiss her.  At seventy-six she was still elegant,
without a suggestion of a failing faculty.  She was also the one member
of the family who could remonstrate with Annabel and get away with
it.

After a memorable reception at the home of Joanna's parents on Beacon

Hill-it included four hours of dancing to the ageless music of the
Lester

Lanin orchestra-William and his bride flew off to Europe for their
honeymoon and Richard and Florentyna returned to New York.  Florentyna
knew that the time was fast approaching when she would have to make an
announcer new about the Senate seat, and she decided to phone the
retiring senator and seek his advice on how he would like her to word
any statement.

She called David Rodgers at his office in the Dirksen Building.  As she
dialed the number, it struck her how odd it was that they now saw so
little of each other when only a few months earlier they had spent half
of their lives within a two hundred yard radius.  The senator wasn't
in, so she left a message to say that she had called.  He did not
return her call for several days and finally his secretary rang to
explain that his schedule had been impossibly tight.  Florentyna
reflected on the fact that this wasn't David Rodgers's style.  She
hoped that she was just imagining the rebuff until she discussed with
Edward wh3t was going on.

"There's a rumor going around that he wants his wife to take over the
seat," he told her.

"Betty Rodgers?  But she's always claimed she couldn't abide public
life.  I can't believe she'd choose to continue his now that David's
retiring."

"Well, don't forget that since her children left home she's been on
the

Chicago City Council.  That's been three years.  Perhaps it's given her
a taste for higher things."

"How serious do you think she is?"

I don't know, but a couple of phone calls and I can find out.  "

Florentyna found out even before Edward because she had a call from one
of her ex-staffers in Chicago who said the Cook County party machine
was talking about Mrs.  Rodgers as if she were already the candidate.

Edward called her back later the same day to say that he had discovered
that the state committee was holding a caucus to consider putting
Betty

Rodgers's name forward as the candidate although the polls indicated
that over eighty percent of the registered Democrats supported
Florentyna as David Rodgers's successor.

"It doesn't help," added Edward, "that Senator Brooks is openly
backing

Betty Rodgers."

"Surprise, surprise," said Forentyna.  "What do you think my next move
ought to be?"

"I don't think you can do anything at the moment.  You have strong
support on the committee and the outcome is very much in the balance,
so perhaps it might be wise not to become too closely involved.  Just
go on working in Chicago and appear to remain above it all."

But what if she's chosen?"

"Then you will have to run as an independent candidate and beat her."

"It's almoit impossible to overcome the party machine, as you reminded
me a feNk months back, Edward."

"Truman (lid."

Florentyna heard a few minutes after the meeting was over that the
committee had voted by a majority of 6 to 5 to put Betty Rodgers's name
forward as the official Democratic candidate for the Senate at a full
caucus meeting later in the month.  David Rodgers and Ralph Brooks had
both voted against Florentyna.

She couldn't believe that only six people could make such an important
decision and during the following week she had two unpleasant phone
conversations, one with Rodgers and the other with Brooks, who both
pleaded with her to put party unity before personal ambition.  "The
sort of hypocrisy you'd expect from a Democrat," commented Richard.

Many of Flornentyna's supporters begged her to fight, but she was not
convinced, especially when the state chairman called and asked her to
announce formally, for the unity of the party, that she would not be a
candidate on this occasion.  After all, he pointed out, Betty would
probably only do one six-year term.

That would.  be enough for Ralph Brooks, Florentyna thought.

She listened to much advice over the next few days, but on a trip to

Washington it was Bob Buchanan who told her to reread Julius Caesar
more carefully.

"The whole play?"  asked Flornentyna.

"No, I would concentrate on Mark Antony if I were you, my dear."

Flornentyna called the Democratic Party chairman and told him she was
willing to come to the caucus and state that she was not a candidate
but she was unwilling to endorse Betty Rodgers.

The chairman readily accepted the compromise.

The meeting was held ten days later at the Democratic State Central

Committee in the Bismarck Hotel on West Randolph Street and when

Florentyna arrived the hall was already packed.  She could sense from
the loud applause she received as she entered the room that the meeting
might not go as smoothly as the committee had planned.

Florentyna took her assigned seat on the platform at the end of the
second row.  The chairman sat in the middle of the front row behind a
long table with two senators, Rodgers and Brooks, on his right and
left, Betty

Rodgers sat next to her husband and didn't once look at Florentyna. The
secretary and treasurer completed the front row.  The chairman gave

Florentyna a polite nod when she appeared.  The other committee members
sat in the second row with Florentyna.  One of them whispered, "You
were crazy not to put up a fight."

At eight o'clock the chairman invited David Rodgers to address the
meeting.  The senator had always been respected as a diligent worker
for his constituents, but even his closest aides would not have
described him as an orator.  He started by thanking them for their
support in the past and expressed the hope that they would now pass
that loyalty on to his wife.  He gave a rambling talk on his work
during his twenty-four years as a senator and sat down to what could,
at best, he described as polite applause.

The chairman spoke next, outlining his reasons for proposing Betty

Rodgers as the next candidate.  "At least it will be easy for the
voters to remember her name."  He laughed as did one or two people on
the platform but surprisingly few in the body of the hall.  He then
went on to spend the next ten minutes expounding, the virtues of Betty
Rodgers and the work she had done as a city councillor.  He spoke to a
silent hall.  And sat down to a smattering of applause.  He waited a
moment, then, in a perfunctory fashion, introduced Florentyna.

She had made no notes because she wanted what she had to say to sound
off the cuff, even though she had been rehearsing every word for the
past ten days.  Richard had wanted to accomp~any her, but she told him
not to bother, because everything had been virtually decided upon
before the first word was spoken.  The truth was that she did not want
him there because his support might cast doubt on her apparent
innocence.

When the chairman sat down, Florentyna came forward to the center of
the stage and stood directly in front of Ralph Brooks.

"Mr.  Cimirman, I have come to Chicago today to announce that I am not
a candidate for the United States Senate."

She paused and there were cries of "Why not'?"  and "Who stopped
you?"

She went on as though she had heard nothing.  "I have had the privilego
of serving my district in Illinois for eight years in the United States
House of Representatives and I look forward to working for the best
interests of the people in the future.  I have always believed in party
unity-"

"But not party fixing," someone shouted.

Once agiin, Florentyna ignored the interruption.  --so I shall be happy
to back the candidate you select to be on the Democratic ticket," she
said, trying to sound convincing.

An uproar started, amid which cries of' Senator Kane.  Senator Kane"
were clearly audible.

David Rodgers looked pointedly at Florentyna as she continued.  "To my
supporters, I say that there may come another time and another place,
but it will not be tonight, so let us remember in this key 8tate that
it is the

Republicans we have to defeat, not ourselves.  If Mrs.  Rodgers becomes
the next senator, I fe~el certain that she will serve the party with
the same ability we have grown to expect from her husband.  Should the
Republicans capture the seat, you can be assured that I shall devote
myself to seeing we win it back in six years' time.  Whatever the
outcome, the committee can depend on my support in this ~_rucial state
during election year."

Florentyna quickly resumed her seat in the second row as her supporters
cheered and cheered.

When the chairman had brought the hall to order, which he tried to do
as quickly as possible, he called upon the next United States Senator
from

Illinois, Mrs.  Betty Rodgers, to address the meeting.  Until then,

Florentyna had kept her head bowed but she could not resist glancing up
at her adversary.  Betty Rodgers clearly had not been prepared for any
opposition and looked in an agitated state as she fidgeted with her
notes.

She read a prepared speech, sometimes almost in a whisper, and although
it was well researched the delivery made her husband sound like
Cicero.

Florentyna felt sad and embarrassed for her and almost despised the
committee for putting Betty Rodgers through such an ordeal.  She began
to wonder to what extremes Ralph Brooks would go to keep her out of
the

Senate.  When

Betty RodFers sat down she was shaking like jelly, and Florentyna
quietly left the platform and stepped out of a side door so that she
would no longer embarrass them.  She hailed a cab and asked the driver
to take her to O'Hare Airport.

"Sure thing, Mrs.  Kane," came the quick reply.  "I hope you're going
to run for the Senate again, You'll win the seat easy this time."

"No, I shall not be running," Florentyna said flatly.  "The Democratic
candidate will be Betty Rodgers."

"Who's The?"  asked the taxi driver.

"Senator Rodgers's wife."

"What's she know about the job?  Her husband wasn't that hot," the chi
ver said testily, and drove the rest of the way in silence.  It gave

Florentyna the opportunity to reflect that she would have to run as an
independent candidate if she was ever going to have any chance of
winning a seat in the Senate.  Her biggest anxiety was splitting the
vote with

Betty Rodgers and letting a Republican take the seat.  The party would
never forgive her if that was the eventual outcome.  It would spell the
end of her political career.  Brooks now looked as if he were going to
win either way.  She cursed herself for not beating him when she had
the chance.

The cab came to a halt outside the terminal building.  As she paid the
driver he said, "It still doesn't make sense to me.  I'll tell you,
lady, my wife thinks you're going to be President.  I can't see it
myself, because I could never vote for a woman."

Florentyna laughed.

"No offense meant, lady."

"No offense taken," she said, and doubled his tip.

She checked her watch and made her way to the boarding gate: another
thirty minutes before takeoff, She bought copies of Time and Newsweek
from the newsstand.  Bush on both covers: the first shots of the

Presidential campaign were being fired.  She looked up at the tele
monitor to check the New York gate num bet "12C."  It amused her to
think of the extremes the officials at O'Hare went to in order to avoid
"Gate 13."  She sat down in a red plastic swivel chair and began to
read the profile on

George Bush.  She became so engrossed in the article that she did not
hear the loudspeaker.  The message was repeated: "Mrs.  Florentyna
Kane, please go to the nearest white courtesy telephone."

Florentyna continued reading about the Zapata Oil Company executive who
had gone through the House, the Republican

National Committee, the CIA and the U.S. Mission to China to become
Vice

President.  A TWA passenger representative came over and touched her
lightly on the shoulder.  She looked up.  " Mrs.  Kane, isn't that for
you?"  the young man said, pointing at a loudspeaker.

Florentyna listened.  "Yes, it is, thank you."  She walked across the
lounge to the nearest phone.  At times like this, she always imagined
that one of the children had been involved in an accident and even now
she had to remind herself that Annabel was over twenty-one and William
was married.

She picked up the phone

Senator Rodgers's voice came over loud and clear.  "Florentyna, is that
you?"

"Yes it is," she replied.

"Thank God I caught you.  Betty has decided she doesn't want to run
after all.  She feels the campaign would be too great a strain on
her.-r.  Can you come back before this place is torn apart?"

"What for?"  asked Florentyna, her mind in a whirl.

"Can't you hear what's going on here?"  said Rodgers.  Florentyna
listened to cries of "Kane, Kane, Kane," as clear as Rodgers's own
voice.

"They want to endorse you as the official candidate and no one is going
to leave until you return."

Florentyna's fingers clenched into a fist.  "I am not interested,
David."

"But Florentyna, I thought-"

"Not unless I have the backing of the committee and you personally
propose my name in nomination."

"Florentyna, anything you say.  Betty always thought you were the
righi person for the job.  It was just that Ralph Brooks pushed her
into it."

"Ralph Brooks?"

"Yes, but Betty now realizes that was nothing more than a self-serving
exercise.  So for God's sake come back."

"I'm on my way."  Florentyna ran down the corridor to the taxi stand. A
cab shot up to her side.

"Where to this time, Mrs.  Kane?"

She smiled.  "Back to where we started."

"I suppose you know where you're going, but I can't understand how an
ordinary guy like me is meant to put any faith in politicians I just
don't know."

Florentyna prayed that the driver would be silent on his return journey
so that she could compose her thoughts, but this time he treated her to
a diatribe: on his wife, whom he ought to leave; his mother-in-law, who
wouldn't leave him; his son, who was on drugs and didn't work, and his
daughter, who was living in a California commune run by a religious
cult."

What a frigging country-beg your pardon, Mrs.  Kane," he said as they
drew up beside the hall.  God, how she had wanted to tell him to shut
up.  She paid him for the second time that evening.

"Maybe I will vote for you after all when you run for President," he
said.

She smiled.  "And I could work on the people who ride this cab-there
must be at least three hundred each week.  "

Florentyna shuddered -another lesson learned.

She tried to collect her thoughts as she entered the building.  The
audience had risen from their seats and were cheering wildly.  Some
clapped their hands above their heads while others stood on chairs. The
first person to greet her on the platform was Senator Rodgers, and then
his wife, who gave

Florentyna a smile of relief.  The chair nan shook her hand heartily.

Senator Brooks was nowhere to be seen: sometimes she really hated
politics.

She turned to face her supporters in the hall and they cheered even
louder: sometimes she really loved politics.

Florentyna stood in the center of the stage, but it was five minutes
before the chair nan could bring the meeting to order.  When there was
complete silence, she simply said, "Thomas Jefferson once remarked: "I
have returned sooner than I expected."  I am happy to accept your
nomination for the

United States Senate.  "

She was not allowed to deliver a further word that night as they
thronged around her.  A little after twelve-thirty she crept into her
room at the

Chicago Baron.  Immediately she picked up the phone and started dialing
212, forgetting that it was one-thirty in New York.

"Who is it?"  said a drowsy voice.

"Mark Antony."

"Who?"

"I come to bury Betty, not to praise her."

"Jessie, have you gone mad?"

"No, but I've been endorsed as the Democratic candidate for the
United

States Senate."  Florentyna explained haw it had come about.

"George Orwell said a lot of terrible things were going to happen this
year, but he made no mention of you waking me up in the middle of the
night just to announce you are going to be a senator."

"I just thought you would like to be the first to know."

"Perhaps you'd better call Edward."

"Do you think I ought to?  You've already reminded me that it's
one-thirty in New York,"

"I know it is, but why should I be the only person you wake up in the
middle of the night so that you can misquote Julius Caesar?"

Senator Rodgers kept his word and backed Florentyna throughout her
whole campaign.  For the first time in years she was free of pressures
from

Washington and could devote all her energies to an election.  This time
there were no thunderbolts or meteorites that could not be contained,
although Ralph Brooks's lukewarm support on one occasion and implied
praise of her Republican opponent on another did not help her cause.

The main interest in the country that year was the Presidential
campaign.

The major surprise was the choice of the Democratic Presidential
candidate, a man who had come from nowhere to beat Walter Mondale and
Edward Kennedy in the primaries with his program dubbed the "Fresh
Approach."  The candidate viskted Illinois on no less than six
occasions during the campaign, appearing with Florentyna every time.

On the day of the election, the Chicago papers said once again that
the

Senate race was too close to call.  The pollsters were wrong and the
loquacious cab driver was right, because at eight-thirty Central time,
the

Republican candidate conceded an overwhelming victory.  Later the
pollsters tried to explain away their statistical errors by speculating
that many men would not admit they were going to vote for a woman as
senator.  Either way, it didn't matter, because the new
President-elect's telegram said it all:

WELCOME BACK TO WASHINGTON, SENATOR KANE



NINETEEN FUGHTY-FIVE was to be a year for funerals, which made
Florentyna feel every day of her fifty-one years.

She returned to Washington to find she had been allocated a suite in
the

Russell Building, a mere six hundred yards from her old congressional
office in the Longworth Building.  For several days while she was
settling in, she found herself still driving into the Longworth garage
rather than the Russell courtyard.  She also could not get used to
being addressed as

Senator, especially by Richard, who could mouth the title in such a way
as to make it sound like a term of abuse.  "You may imagine your status
has incrxased, but they still haven't given you a raise in salary.  I
can't wait for you to be President," he added.  "Then at least you will
earn as much as one of the bank's vice presidents, "

Florentyna's salary might not have risen, but her expenses had as once
again she surrounded herself with a team many senators would envy.  She
would have been the first to acknowledge the advantage of a strong
financial base outside the world of politics.  Most of her old team
returned and were supplemented by new staffers who were in no doubt
about

Florentyna's future.  Her office in the Russell Building was in Suite
440.

The other four rooms were now occupied by the fourteen staffers, led by
the intrepid Janet Brown, who Florentyna had decided long ago was
married to her job.  In addition, Florentyna now had four offices
throughout Illinois with three staffers working in each of them.

Her new office overlooked the courtyard, with its fountain and
cobblestoned parking area.  The green lawn would be a popular lune~i
place for senate staffers during the warm weather, and for an army of
squirrels in the winter.

Florentyna told Richard that she estimated she would be paying out of
her own pocket over $200,000 a year more than her senatorial allowance,
an amount which varies from senator to senator depending on the size of
their state and its population, she explained to her husband.  Richard
smiled and made a mental note to donate exactly the same sum to the
Republican Party.

No sooner had the Illinois State Seat been affixed to her office door
than

Florentyna received the telegram.  It was simple and stark: "WINIFRED

TREDGOLD PASSED AWAY ON THURSDAY AT ELEVEN C,"CLOCK."

It was the first time Florentyna was aware of Miss Tredgold's Christian
name.  She checked her watch, made two overseas calls and then buzzed
for

Janet to explain where she would be for the neKt forty-eight hours.  By
one o'clock that afternoon she was on board the Concorde and she
arrived in

London three hours and twenty-five minutes later at nine twenty-five.
The chauffeur-driven car she had ordered was waiting for her as she
emerged from Customs and drove her down the M4 motorway to Wiltshire.
She checked into the Landsdowne Arms Hotel and read Saul Bellow's The
Dean's December until three o'clock in the morning to counter the jet
lag.  Before turning the light out she called Richard.

"Where are you?"  were his first words.

"I'm in a small hotel at Caine in Wiltshire, England."

"Why, pray?  Is the Senate doing a fact-finding mission on English
pubs?"

"No, my darling.  Miss Tredgo'~d has died and I'm attending the funeral
tomorrow."

"I'm sorry," said Richard.  "if you had let me know I would have come
with you.  We both have a lot to thank that lady for."  Florentyna
smiled.  "When will you be coming home?"

"Tomorrow evening's Concorde."

"Sleep well, Jessie.  I'll be thinking of you-and Miss Tredgold."

At nine-thirty the next morning a maid brought in a breakfast tray of
kippers, toast with Cooper's Oxford marmalade, coffee and a copy of
the

London Times.  She sat in bed savoring every moment, an indulgence she
would never have allowed herself in Washington.  By ten-thirty she had
absorbed the Times and was not surprised to discover that the British
were having the same problems with inflation and unemployment as those
that prevailed in

America.  Florentyna got up and dressed in a simple black knitte6 suit.
The only jewelry she wore was the little watch that Miss Tredgold had
given her on her thirteenth birthday.

The hotel porter told her that the church was about a mile away, and
since the morning was so clear and crisp she decided to walk.  What the
porter had failed to point out to her was that the journey was uphill
the whole way and his "about" was a 11 guesstimate."  As she strode
along, she reflected on how little exercise she had had lately, despite
the pristine

Exercycle, which had huen shipped up to Cape Cod.  She had also allowed
the jogging mania to pass her by.

The tiny Norman church, surrounded by oaks and elms, was perched on the
side of the hill.  On the bulletin board was an appeal for 25,000
pounds to save the church roof; according to a little blob of red on a
thermometer, over 1,000 pounds had already been collccted.  To

Florentyna's surprise she was met in the vestry by a waiting verger and
led to a place in the front pew next to an imperious lady who could
only have been the headmistress.

The church was far fuller than Florentyna had expected it to be and the
school had supplied the choir.  The service was simple, and the address
given by the parish priest left Florentyna in no doubt that Miss
Tredgold had continued to teach others with the same dedication and
common sense that had influenced the whole of Florentyna's life.  She
tried not to cry during the address-she knew Miss Tredgold would not
have approved but she nearly succumbed when they sang her governess's
favorite hymn, "Rock of

Ages."

When the service was over, Florentyna filed back with the rest of the
congregation through the Norman porch and stood in the little
churchyard to watch the mortal remains of Winifred Tredgold disappear
into the ground.  The headmistress, a carbon copy of Miss
Tredgoid-Florentyna found it hard to believe that such women still
existed-said she would like to show Florentyna something of the school
before she left.  On their way, she learned that Miss Tredgold had
never talked about Florentyna except to her two or three closest
friends, but when the headmistress opened the door of a small bedroom
in a cottage on the school estate, Florentyna could no longer hold back
the tears.  By the bed was a photograph of a vicar who, Florentyna
remembered, was Miss Tredgold's father, and by its side, in a small
silver Victorian frame, stood a picture of Florentyna graduating from
Girls Latin next to an old Bible.  In the bedside drawer, they
discovered every one of Florentyna's letters written over the past
thirty years; the last one remained unopened by her bed.

"Did she know I had been elected to the Senate?"  Florentyna asked
diffidently.

"Oh, yes, the whole school prayed for you that day.  It was the last
occasion on which Miss Tredgold read the lesson in chapel, and before
she died she asked me to write to tell you she felt her father had been
right and that she had indeed taught a woman of destiny.  My dear, you
must not cry; her belief in God was so unshakable that she died in
total peace with this world.  Miss Tredgold also asked me to give you
her Bible and this envelope, which you must not open until you have
returned home.  It's iomething she bequeathed you in her will."

As Florentyna left.  she thanked the headmistress for all her kindness
and added that she had been touched and surprised at being met by the
verger when no one knew she was coming.

"Oh, you should have not been surprised.  child," said the
headmistress.  "I never doubted for a moment that you would come."

Florentyna traveled back to London clutching the envelope.  She longed
to open it.  like a little girl who has seen a package in the hall but
knows it is for her birthday the following day.  She caught the
Concorde at 6:30 that evening, arriving back at Dulles by 5:30 P.m. She
was seated at her desk in the Russell Building by 6:30 the same
evening.  She stared at the envelope marked "Florentyna Kane" and then
slowly tore it open.  She pulled out the contents, four thousand shares
of Baron Group stock.  Miss Tredgold had died presumably unaware that
she was worth over half a million dollars.

Florentyna took out her pen and wrote out a check for 25,000 pounds for
a new church roof in memory of Miss Winifred Tredgold and sent the
shares to

Professor Ferpozzi to be placed at the disposal of the Remagen Trust.
When

Richard heard the story he told Florentyna that his father had once
acted the same way, but the sum required had been only 500 pounds.  "It
seems even

God is affected by inflation," he added.

Washington was preparing for another inauguration of a President.  On
this occasion Senator Kane was placed in the

VIP stand from which the new chief executive was to make his speech.
She listened intently to the blueprint for American policy over the
next four years, now referred to by everyone as the "Fresh Approach."

"You're ge'ting nearer the lectern every time," Richard had told her at
breakfast.

Florentyna glanced around among her colleagues and friends in a

Washington where she now felt at home.  Senator Ralph Brooks, a row in
front of her, was even nearer the President.  His eyes never left the
podium.

Florentyna found herself on the Defense Subcommittee of the

Appropriations Committee and on the Environment and Public Works

Committee.  She was also asked to chair the Committee on Small
Business.

Her days once again resembled a never-ending chase for more hours.
Janet and the other staffers would brief her in elevators, cars,
planes, en route to vote on the floor, and even on the run between
committee rooms.

Florentyna was tireless in her efforts to complete her daily schedule,
and all fourteen staffers wondered how much they could pile on her
before she cracked under the strain.  In the Senate, Floreqtyna quickly
enhanced the reputation she had made for herself in the House of
Representatives by speaking only on matters on which she was well
briefed, and then with compassion and common sense.  She still remained
silent on issues on which she did not consider herself well informed.
She voted against her party on several defense matters and twice over
the new energy policy provoked by the latest war in the Middle East.

As the onlN, Democratic woman senator, Florentyna received invitations
to speak all over the nation, and the other senators soon learned
that

Florentyna Kane was not the token Democratic woman in the Senate but
someone whom they could never afford to underestimate.

Florentyna was pleased to find how often she was invited to the inner
sanctum of the Majority Leader's office to discuss matters of policy as
well as party problems.

During her first session as a senator, Florentyna sponsored an
amendment on the Small Business bill, giving generous tax concessions
to manufacturers that exported over 35 percent of their product,.  For
a long time she had believed that companies who did not seek to sell
their goods in an overseas market were suffering from the same
delusions of grandeur as the English in the mid-twentieth century, and
that if they were not careful,

Americans would enter the twenty-first century with the same problems
that the British had failed to come to terms with in the 1980s.

In her fri-st three months she had answered 6,416 letters, voted 79
times, spoken on 8 occasions in the chamber, 14 times outside and
missed lunch on 43 of the last ninety days.  I don't need to diet," she
told Janet, "I weigh less than when I was twenty-four and opened my
first shop in San Francisco."

The secood death was every bit as much of a shock as Miss Tredgold's,
because-the whole family had spent the previous weekend toFether on
Cape

Cod.

The maid reported to the butler that Mrs.  Kate Kane had not come down
to breakfast as the grandfather clock chimed eight.  "Then she must be
dead," said the butler.

Kate Kane was seventy-nine when she failed to come down for breakfast,
and the family gathered for a Brahmin funeral.  The service was held at
Trinity

Church, Copley Square, and could not have been a greater contrast to
the service for Miss Tredgold, for this time the bishop addressed a
congregation who between them could have walked from Boston to San

Francisco on their own land.  All the Kanes and Cabots were present
along with two other senators and a congressman.  Almost everyone who
had ever known Grandmother Kane, and a good many of those who had not,
filled the pews behind Richard and Florentyna.

Florentyna glanced at William and Joanna.  Joanna looked as though site
would he giving birth in about a month and it made Florentyna feel sad
that

Kate had not lived long enough to become Great-G rand mother Kane.

After the funeral, they spent a somber family weekend in the Red House
on

Beacon Hill.  Florentyna would never forget Kate's tirelcis efforts to
bring her husband and son together.  Richard was now the sole head of
the Kane family, which Florentyna realized would add further
responsibility to his already impossible work load.  She also knew that
he would not complain and it made tier feel guilty that she was unable
to do much about making his life any easier.

Like a typical Kane, Kate's will was sensible and prudent; the bulk of
the estate was left to Richard and his sisters, Lucy and Virginia, and
large settlements were made on William and Annabel.  William was to
receive two million dollars on his thirtieth birthday.  Annabel, on the
other hand, was to live off the interest of a further two million until
she was forty-five or had two legitimate children.  Grandmother Kane
hadn't missed much.

In Washington, the battle for the midterm election had already begun
and

Florentyna was glad to have a six-year term before she faced the voters
again, giving her a chance for the first time to do some real work
without the biennial break for party squabbl("s.  Nevertheless, so many
of her colleagues invited her to speak in their states that she seemed
to be working just as hard and the only request she politely refused
was in Tennessee: site explained she could not speak against Bob
Buchanan, who was seeking re-election for the last time.

The little white card which Louise gave her each night was always
filled with appointments from dawn to dusk indicating the routine for
the following day: "7:45: breakfast with a visiting foreign minister of
defense.  9:00: staff meeting.  9:30~ Defense Subcommittee hearing.
11:30: interview with

Chicago Tribune.  12:30: lunch with six Senate colleagues to,liscuss
defense budget.  2:00: weekly radio broadcast.  2:30: photo on Capitol
steps with Illinois 4-Hers.  3:15: staff briefing on Small Business
bill.  5:30: drop by reception of Associated General Contractors. 
7:00: cocktail party at French Embassy.  8:00: dinner with Donald
Graham of the

Washington Post.  11 -00: phone Richard at the Denver Baron."

As a senator, Florentyna was able to reduce her trips to Illinois to
ev,_~ry other weekend.  On every other Friday, she would catch the

U.S.

Air flight to Providence, where she would be met by Richard on his way
up from New York.  They would then drive out on Route 6 to the Cape,
which gave them a chance to catch up with each other's week.

Richard and Florentyna spent their free weekends on Cape Cod, which had
become their family home since Kate's death, Richard having given the

Red House to William and Joanna.

On Saturday mornings, they would lounge around reading newspapers and
magazines.  Richard might play the cello while Florentyna would look
over the paperwork she had brought with her from Washington.  When
weather permitted they played golf in the afternoon and, whatever the
weather, backgammon in the evening.  Florentyna always ended the
evening owing

Richard a couple of hundred dollars, which he said he would donate to
the

Republican Party if she ever honored her gambling debts.  Floreirtyna
always queried the value of giving to the

Massachusetts Republican Party, but Richard pointed out that he also
supported a Republican governor and senator in New York.

Patriotically, Joanna gave birth to a son on February 22, and they
christened him Richard.  Suddenly Florentyna was a grandmother

People magazine stopped describing her as the most elegant lady in

Washington and started calling her the best-looking grandmother in
America.

This caused a flurry of letters of protest including hundreds of
photographs of other glamorous grannies for the editor to consider,
which only made Florentyna even more popular.

The rumors that she would be a strong contender for the Vice Presidency
in 1988 started in July when the Small Business Association made her

Illinoisan of the year and a Newsweek poll voted her Woman of the
Year.

Whenever she was questioned on the subject she reminded her inquirers
that she had been in the Senate for less than a year and that her first
priority was to represent her state in Congress, although she noted
that she was being invited to the White House more and more often for
sessions with the

President.  It was the first time that being the one woman in the
majority party was turning out to be an advantage.

Florentyn,i learned of Bob Buchanan's death when she asked why the flag
on the Russell Building was at half mast.  The funeral was on the
Wednesday when she was due to offer an amendment to the Public Health
Service Act in the Senate and address a seminar on defense at the
Woodrow Wilson International Center for Scholars.  She canceled one,
postponed the other and flew to Nashville, Tennessee.

Both of the state's senators and its seven remaining congressmen wvre
present.  Florentyna stood next to her House colleagues in silent
tribute.

As they waited to go into the Lutheran chapel, one of them told her
that

Bob had had five sons and one daughter.  Gerald, the youngest, had been
killed in Vietnam.  She thanked God that Richard had been too old and

William too young to be sent to that pointless war.

Steven, the eldest son, led the Buchanan 'family into the chapel.  Tall
and thin, with a warm, open face, he could only have been the son of
Bob, and when Florentyna spoke to him after the service he revealed the
same southern charm and straight approach that had endeared his father
to her.

Florentyna was delighted when she learned that Steven was going to run
for his father's seat in the upcoming special election.

"It will give me someone new to quarrel with," she said, smiling.

"He greatly admired you," said Steven,

Florentyna was not prepared to see her photograph all over the major
newspapers the next morning being described as a gallant lady.  Janet
placed a New York Times editorial on top of her press clippings for her
to read:

Representative Buchanan had not been well known to the citizens of

New York, but it was a comment on his service in Congress that

Senator Kane flew to Tennessee to attend his funeral.  It is the sort
of gesture that is rarely seen in politics today and is just another
reason why Senator Kane is one of the most respected legislators in
either house.

Florentyna was rapidly becoming the most sought-after politician in

Washington.  Even the President admitted that the demands on her time
weren't running far short of his.  But among the invitations that came
that year, there was one she accepted with considerable pride.  Harvard
invited her to run for election to the Board of Overseers in the spring
and to address the Graduation Day ceremony that June.  Even Richard put
a note in his diary to keep the day free.

Florentyna looked up the list of those who had preceded her in this
honor-from George Marshall outlining the plan to reconstruct postwar

Europe to Alexander Solzhenitsyn describing the West as decadent and
lacking in spiritual values.

Florentyna spent many hours preparing her Harvard address, aware that
the media traditionally gave the speech considerable coverage.  She
practiced paragraphs daily in front of the mirror, in the bathtub, even
on the golf course with Richard.  She wrote the complete text
herself-in long hand-but accepted numerous amendments from Janet,
Richard and Edward on its content.

The day before she was due to deliver the speech, Florentyna had a
telephone call from Sotheby's.  "She listened to the head of the
department and agreed to his suggestion.  When they had settled on a
maximum price, he said he would let her know the outcome immediately
after the auction.

Florentyna felt the timing could not have been better.  She flew up
to

Boston that night, to be met at Logan Airport by an enthusiastic young
undergraduate who drove her into Cambridge and dropped her off at the
Faculty Club.  President

Bok greeted her in the foyer and congratulated her on her election to
the board, and then introduced her to the other overseers, who numbered
among the thirty, two Nobel Prize winners, one for literature and one
for science; two ex-cabinet secretaries; an army genet-at; a judge; an
oil tycoon and two other university presidents.  Florentyna sat through
the meeting amused by how courteous the overseers all were to one
another and she could not help but contrast their approach with that of
a House committee.

The guest room they put at her disposal brought back memories of

Florentyna's student days and she even had to phone Richard from the
corridor.  He was in Albany dealing with some tax problems caused by
Jack

Kemp, the new Republican governor of New York State.

"I'll be with you for the lunch," he promised.  "By the way, I see
tomorrow's speech was worthy of a mention by Dan Rather on the CBS news
tonight.  It had better be good if you hope to keep me from watching
the

Yankees on channel eleven."

"Just see you are in your place on time, Mr.  Kane."

"Just you make sure it's as good as your speech to the Vietnam Veterans
of

America, because I'm traveling a long way to hear you, Senator."

"How could I have fallen in love with you, Mr.  Kane?"

"It was, if I remember rightly, "Adopt an Immigrant Year," and we

Bostonians were exhibiting our usual social consciousness.  "

"Why did it continue after the end of the year?"

"I decided it was my duty to spend the rest of my life with you.

"Good decision, Mr.  Kane."

"I wish I were with you now, Jessie."

"You wouldn't if you could see the room they've given me.  I have only
a single bed, so you would be spending the night on the floor.  Be on
time tomorrow, because I want you to hear this speech."

"I will.  But I must say it's taking you a long time to convert me into
a

Democrat."

"I'll try again tomorrow.  Good night, Mr.  Kane."

Richard was awakened the next morning by the telephone at the Albany
Baron.

He assumed it would be Florentyna on the line with some senatorial
comment, but it turned out to be New York Air to say there would be no
flights out of Albany that day because of a one-day job action by
maintenance workers that was affecting every airline.

"Christ," said Richard, uncharacteristically, then jumped into a cold
shower, where he exercised some other new words in his vocabulary. Once
he was dry, he tried to get dressed while dialine the front desk. He
dropped the phone and had to start again.

I want a rental car at the front entrance immediately," he said,
dropfxA the phone again and finished dressing.  He then called HarvArd,
but they had no idea where Senator Kane was at that particular moment.
He left a message explaining what had happened, ran downstairs, skipped
breakfast and picked up the keys to a Ford Executive.  Richard was held
up in the rush-hour ttaffic and it took him another thirty minutes to
find Route 90 East.  He checked his watch: he would only have to do a
steady sixty if he was going to be in Cambridge in time for the speech
at two o'clock.

He knew how much this one meant to Florentyna and he was determined not
to be late.

The last few days had been a nightmare: the theft in Cleveland, the
kitchen walkout in San Francisco, the seizing of the hotel in Cape
Town, tax problems over his mother's estate all happening while the
price of gold was collapsing because of the civil war in South Africa.
Richard tried to put all these problems out of his mind.  Florentyna
could always tell when he was tired or overanxious and he did not want
her to be worrying about situations he knew he could remedy eventually.
Richard wound the car window down to let in some fresh air.

The rest of the weekend he was going to do nothing but steep and play
the cello; it would be the first break they had both had for over a
month.

No children: William would be in Boston with his own family, and
Annabel in Mexico-leaving nothing more strenuous to consider than a
round of golf for two whole days.  He wished he didn't feel so tired.
"Damn," he said out loud.  He'd forgotten the roses-he had planned to
send them to

Florentyna from the airport.

Florent,vna was given two messages just before lunch.  The man from

Sotheby's phoned to say that she had been successful in her bid, and a
college porter delivered Richard's news.  She was delighted by the
first and disappointed by the second, although she smiled at the
thought that

Richard would be worrying about the roses.  Thanks to Sotheby's, she
now had something for him he had wanted all his life.

Florentyna had spent the morning in the formal graduation proceedings
at the Tercentenary Theater.  The sight of all three networks setting
up their cameras on the lawn for the afternoon ceremony had made her
feet even more nervous and she hoped no one had noticed that she had
eaten almost nothing at lunch.

At one forty-five, the overseers left for the yard, where alumni
reunion classes had already gathered.  She thought back, to her own
years .. .

Bella .. . Wendy .. . Scott .. . Edward .. . and now she had returned,
as Edward had predicted, as Senator Kane.  She took her seat on the
platform outside the Tercentenary Theater next to President Horner of
Radcliffe and looked down at the card on the other chair beside her, It
read, "Mr.

Richard Kane-husband of Senator Kane."  She smiled at how much that
would annoy, him, and scribbled underneath, "What took you so long'?"
She must remember to leave the card on the mantelpiece.  Florentyna
knew that if

Richard arrived after the ceremony had begun he would have to find a
seat on the lawn.  The announcement of elections, conferring ol
honorary degrees and reports of gifts received by the university were
followed by an address from President Bok.  Florentyna listened as he
introduced her.  She searched the rows of audience in front of her as
far as she could see but was still unable to spot Richard.

"President Homer, distinguished visitors, ladies and gentlemen.  It is
a great honor for me today to present one of Radcliffe's most
distinguished alumnae, a woman who has captured the imagination of the
American people.

Indeed, I know many of us believe that Radcliffe will one day have two
presidents."  Seventeen fliousand guests burst into spontaneous
applause.

"Ladies and gentlemen, Senator Florentyna Kane."

Florentyna's throat went (try when she rose from her seat.  She checked
tier notes as the great television lights were switched on, momentarily
blinding her, so that she could see nothing but a blur of faces.  She
prayed

Richard's was among them.

"President Bok, President Homer.  I stand before you more nervous now
than

I was when I first came to Radcliffe thirty three years ago and
couldn't find the dining room for two days because I was too frightened
to ask anyone."  The laughter eased Florentyna's tension.  "Now I see
seated in front of me men and women and if I recall correctly from my
Radcliffe rule book, men may only enter the bedrooms between the hours
of three and five

P.m. and must at all times keep both feet on the ground.  If the rule
still exists today, I am bound to ask how the poor things ever get any
sleep."

The laughter continued for several seconds before Florentyna was able
to start again.  "More than thirty years ago I was educated at this
great university and it has set the standard for everything I have
tried to achieve in my life.  The pursuit of excellence has always been
to Harvard of paramount importance and it is a relief to find in this
changing world that the standards attained today by your graduates are
even higher than they were in my generation.  There is a tendency among
the old to say that the youth of today do not compare with their
forefathers.  I am reminded of the words carved on the side of the
tombs of the Pharaohs.  Translated, it reads: "The young are lazy and
preoccupied with themselves and will surely cause the downfall of the
world as we know it."

The graduates cheered while the parents laughed.  "Winston Churchill
once said: "When I was sixteen, I thought my parents knew nothing. When
I was twenty-one, I was shocked to discover how much they had picked up
in the last five years.  "' The parents applauded and the students
smiled.

"America is often looked upon as a great monolithic land mass, with a
vast centralized economy.  It is neither of these things.  It is two
hundred and forty million people who make up something more diverse,
more complicated, more exciting than any other nation on earth and I
envy all of you who wish to play a role in the future of our country
and feel sorry foj- those who do not.  Harvard University is famous for
its tradition of service in medicine, teaching, the law, religion and
the arts.  it must be thought a modern tragedy that more young people
do not consider politics an honorable and worthwhile profession.  We
must change the atmosphere in the corridors of power so that the very
brightest of our youth do not dismiss.  virtually without
consideration, a career in public life.

"None of us has ever doubted for a moment the integnty of Washington,

Adams, Jefferson or Lincoln.  Why shouldn't we today produ,~e another
generation of statesmen who will bring back to our vocabulary the words
'duty," 'pride' and 'honor' without such a suggestion being greeted
with sarcasm or scorn'?

"This great university produced John Kennedy, who once said when
receiving an honorary degree from Yale, "And now I have the best of
both worlds, a Harvard education and a Yale degree.  "'

When the laughter had died down, Florentyna continued: "I, Mr.
President, have the best of every world, a Radcliffe education and a
Radcliffe degree,"

Seventeen thousand people rose to their feet and it was a considerable
time before Florentyna could continue.  She smiled as she thought how
proud Richard would be because he had suggested that line in the
bathtub and she had not been sure that it would work.

"As young Americans, take pride in your country's past achievements,
but strive to make them nothing more than history.  Defy old myths,
break new barriers, challenge the future, so that at the end of this
century, people will say of us that our achievements rank alongside
those of the

Greeks, the Romans and the British in advancing freedom and a just
society for all people on this planet.  Let no barriers be unassailable
and no aims too high and when the crazy whirligig of time is over, let
it be possible for you to say as Franklin D. Roosevelt did, "There is a
mysterious cycle in human events.  To some generations much is given,
of other generations much is expected, but this generation of Americans
has a rendezvous with destiny.  "'

Once again, everyone on the lawn broke into spontaneous applause.  When
it subsided, Florentyna lowered her voice almost to a whisper.  "My
fellow alumni, I say to you, I am bored by cynics, I despise
belittlers, I loathe those who think there is something sophisticated
and erudite in running our nation down, because I am convinced that
this generation of our youth, who will take the United States into the
twenty-first century, has another rendezvous with destiny.  I pray that
many of them are present today."

When Florentyna sat down she was the only person seated.  Journalists
were to remark the next day that even the cameramen whistled.
Florentyna looked down, aware that she had made a favor ible impression
on the crowd, but she still needed Richard for final confirmation. Mark
Twain's words came back to her: "Sorrow can take care of itself, but to
get the true benefit of joy, you must share it."  As Florentyna was led
off the stage, the students cheered and waved, but her eyes searched
only for

Richard.  Making her way out of the Tercentenary Yard, she was stopped
by dozens of people, but her thoughts remained elsewhere.

Florentyna heard the words "Who will tell her?"  while she was trying
to listen to a student who was going to Zimbabwe to teach English.  She
swung around to stare at the troubled face of Marina Homer, the
Radcliffe president.

"It's Richard, isn't it?"  said Florentyna quickly.

"Yes, I'm afraid so.  He's been involved in a car accident."

"Where is he?"

"In Newton-Wellesley Hospital, about ten miles away.  You must leave
immediately."

"How bad is it?"

"Not good, I'm afraid."

A police escort rushed Florentyna down the Massachusetts Turnpike to
the

Route 16 exit as she prayed, Let him live.  Let him live.

When the police car arrived outside the main entrance of the hospital
she ran up the steps.  A doctor was waiting for her.

"Senator Kane, I'm Nicholas Eyre, chief of surgery.  We need your
permission to operate."

"Why?  Why do you need to operate?"

"Your husband has severe head injuries.  And it's our only chance to
save him."

"Can I see him?"

"Yes, of course  He led her quickly to the emergency room, where
Richard lay unconscious beneath a plastic sheet, a tube in his mouth,
his skull encased in stained white gauze.  Florentyna collapsed onto
the bedside chair and stared down at the floor, unable to bear the
sight of her injured husband.

Would the brain damage be permanent or could he recover?

"What happened?"  she asked the surgeon.

"The police aren't certain, but a witness said your husband veered
across the divider on the turnpike for no apparent reason and collided
with a tractor-trailer.  There seems to have been no mechanical fault
with the car he was driving, so they can only conclude he fell asleep
at the wheel."

Florentyna steeled herself to raise her eyes and look again at the man
she loved.

"Can we operate, Mrs.  Kane?"

"Yes," said a faint voice that only an hour before had brought
thousands of people to their feet.  She was led into a corridor and sat
alone.  A nurse came up: they needed a signature; she scribbled her
name.  How many times had she done that today?

She sat alone in the corridor, a strange figure in an elegant dress,
hunched up on the little wooden chair.  She remembered how she had
met

Richard in Bloomingdale's when she thought he had fallen for Maisie;
how they first made love only moments after their first row and how
they had run away and with the help of Bella and Claude she had become
Mrs.  Kane; the births of William and Annabel, that twenty-dollar bill
that fixed the meeting in San Francisco with Gianni; returning to New
York as partners to run the Baron and then Lester's; how he had then
made Washington possible; how she had smiled when he played the cello
for her; how he laughed when she beat him at golf.  She had always
wanted to achieve so much for him and he had always been selfless in
his love for her.

He must live so that she could devote herself to making him well
again.

In times of helplessness one suddenly believes in God.  Florentyna fell
on her knees and begged for her husband's life.

Hours passed before Dr.  Eyre returned to her side.  Florentyna looked
up hopefully.

"Your husband died a few minutes ago, Mrs.  Kane" was all the surgeon
said.

"Did he say anything to you before he died?"  Florentyna asked.

The chi et of surgery looked embarrassed.

"Whatever it was my husband said, I should like to know, Dr.  Eyre. "

The surgeon hesitated.  "All he said, Mrs.  Kane, was "Tell Jessie I
love her."

Florentyna bowed her head.  The widow knelt alone and prayed.

It was the second funeral of a Kane in Trinity Church in six mOnths.

William stood between two Mrs.  Kanes dressed in black as the bishop
reminded them that in death there is life.

Florentyna sat alone in her room that night and cared no longer for
this life.  In the hall Jay a package marked: "Fragile, Sotheby Parke
Bernet, contents one cello, Stradivarius."

William accompanied his mother back to Washington on Monday.  The news
magazines at the stand at Logan Airport were ablaze with cover
headlines from Florentyna's speech.  She didn't even notice.

William remained at the Baron with his mother for three days until she
sent him back to his wife.  For hours Florentyna would sit alone in a
room full of Richard's past.  His cello, his photographs, even the last
unfinished game of backgammon.

Florentyna began to arrive at the Senate in midmorning.  Janet couldn't
get her to answer her mail except for the hundreds of letters and
telegrams expressing sorrow at Richard's death.  She failed to show up
at committee meetings and forgot appointments with people who had
traveled great distances to see her.  On one occasion she missed
presiding over the Senatea chore senators took in turn when the Vice
President was absent-for a defense debate.  Even her most ardent
admirers doubted if she would ever fully regain her impetuous
enthusiasm for politics.

As the weeks turned into months, Florentyna began to lose her best
staffers, who feared she no longer had the ambition for herself that
they had once had for her.  Complaints from her constituents, low-key
for the first few months after Richard's'death, now turned to an angry
rumble, but still Florentyna went aimlessly about her daily routine.
Senator

Brooks quite openly suggested an early retirement for the good of the
party, and, continued to voice this opinion in the smoke-filled rooms
of

Illinois's political headquarters.  Florentyna's name began to
disappear from the White House guest lists and she was no longer at the
_-Ocktail parties held by Mrs.  John Sherman Cooper, Mrs.  Lloyd
Kreegar or Mrs.

George Renchard.

Both William and Edward traveled regularly to Washington in an effort
to stop her from thinking about Richard and bring her back to taking an
interest in her work.  Neither of them succeeded.

Florentyna spent a quiet Christmas at the Red House in Boston.  William
and Joanna found it difficult to adapt to the change that I kad taken
place in so short a time.  The once elegant and incisive lady had
become listless and dull.  It was an unhappy Christmas for everyone
except that the ten-month-old Richard was learning to pull himself up.
When

Florentyna returned to Washington in the New Year, matters did not
improve, and tven Edward began to despair.

Janet Brown waited nearly a year before she told Florentyna that she
had been offered the job of administrative assistant in Senator Han's
office.

"You must accept the offer, my dear.  There is nothing left for you
here.

I shall serve out my term and then retire."

Janet too pleaded with Florentyna, but it had no effect.

Florentyna glanced through her mail, barely noticing a letter from
Bella chiding her about not turning up for their daughter's wedding,
and signed some more letters that she hadn't written or even bothered
to read.  When she checked her watch, it was six o'clock.  An
invitation from Senator

Pryor to a small reception lay on the desk in front of her.  Florentyna
dropped the smartly embossed card into the wastepaper basket, picked up
a copy of the Washington Post and decided to walk home alone.  She had
never once felt alone when Richard had been alive.

She came out of the Russell Building, crossed Delaware Avenue and cut
over the grass of Union Station Plaza.  Soon Washington would be a
blaze of colors.  The fountain splashed as she came to the paved
walkway.  She reached the steps leading down to

New Jersey Avenue and decided to rest for a moment on the park bench.

There was nothing to rush home for.  She began to remember the look
on

Richard's face as Jake Thomas welcomed him as chairman of Lester's.  He
did look a fool standing there with a large red London bus under his
arm.

Remini,;cing about such incidents in their life together brought her as
near to happiness now as she ever expected to achieve.

"You're on my bench."

Florentyna blinked and looked to her side.  A man wearing dirty jeans
and an open brown shirt with holes in the sleeves sat on the other end
of the bench staring at her suspiciously.  He had not shaved for
several days, which made it hard for Florentyna to determine his age.

I'm sorry, I didn't realize it was your bench."

"Been my bench, Danny's bench, these last thirteen years," said the
grin'y face.  "Before that it was Ted's and when I go Matt inherits
it."

"Matt?"  ropeated Florentyna uncomprehendingly.

"Yeah, Matt the Grain.  He's asleep behind parking lot sixteen waiting
for me to die."  The tramp chuckled.  "But I tell you the way he goes
through that grain alcohol, Matt will never take over this bench.  You
not thinking of staying long, are you, lady?"

"No.  I hadn't planned to," said Florentyna.

"Good," said Danny.

"What do you do during the day?"

"Oh, this and that.  Always know where we can get soup from church
kitchens, and some of that stuff they throw out from the swanky
restaurants can keep me going for days.  I had the best part of a steak
at the Monocle yesterday.  I think I'll try the Baron tonight."

Florentyna tried not to show her feelings.  "You don't work?"

"Who'd give Danny work?  I haven't had a job in fifteen years-since I
left the Army back in 'seventy.  Nobody wanted this old vet.  Should
have died for my country in Nam-would have made things easier for
everyone."

"How many are there like you?"

"In Washington?"

"Yes, in Washington."

"Hundreds."

"Hundreds?"  Florentyna repeated in disbelief.

"Not as bad as some cities.  New York they throw you in jail as quick
is look at you.  When are you thinking of going, lady?"  he saiJ,
eyeing her suspiciously.

"Soon.  MAY I ask-"

"You ask too many questions, so it's my turn.  Okay if I have the paper
when you leave?"

"The Washington Post?"

"Good quality, that," said Danny.

"You read it?"

"No."  He laughed.  "I wrap myself up in it.  Keeps me warm as a
harnbur~er if I stay very still."

She passe(I him the paper.  She stood up and smiled at Danny, noticing
for the first time that he had only one leg.

"Wouldn't have a quarter to spare an old soldier?"

Florentyna rummaged through her bag.  She had only a ten dollar bill
and thirty-seven cents in change.  She handed the money to Danny.

He stared at her offering in disbelief.  "There's enough here for
both

Matt and me to have some real food," he exclaimed.  The tramp paused
and looked at her more closely.  "I know you, lady," Danny said
suspiciously.

"You're that senator lady.  Matt always says he's going to get an
appointment with you and explain a thing or two about how you spend
government money.  But I told him what those little receptionists do
when they see the likes of us walk in-they call the cops and grab the
Lysol.

Don't even ask us to sign the guest book.  I told Matt not to waste his
valuable time."

Florentyna watched Danny as he began to make himself comfortable on his
bench, covering himself very expertly with the Washington Post.  "Any
case, I told him you would be much too busy to bother with him and so
would the other ninety nine  He turned his back on the distinguished
senator from Illinois and lay very still.  Florentyna said good night
before walking down the steps to the street where she was met by a
policeman outside the entrance to the underground parking lot.

"The man on that bench?"

"Yes, Senator," said the officer.  "Danny, Danny One-Leg; he didn't
cause you any trouble, I hope?"

"No, not At all," said Florentyna.  "Does he sleep there every
night?"

"Has for the past ten years, which is how long I've been on the for
ct

Cold nights, he moves to a grate behind the

Capitol.  He's harmless enough, not like some of those at the back of
lot sixteen."

Florentyna lay awake the rest of the night only nodding off
occasionally as she thought about Danny One-Leg and the hundreds
suffering from the same plight as his.  At seven-thirty the next
morning she was back in her office on Capitol Hill.  The first person
to arrive, at eight-thirty, was Janet and she was shocked to find
Florentyna's head buried in The Modern Welfare

Society by Arthur Quern.  Florentyna looked up.

"Janet, I want all the current unemployment figures, broken down into
slates, and then into ethnic groups.  I also need to know, with the
same breakdowns, how many people are on social security and what
percentage have not worked for over two years.  'rhen I want you to
find out how many of them have served in the armed forces.  Compile a
list of every leading authority -You're crying, Janet."

"Yes, I am," she said.

Florentyna came from behind her desk and put her arms around her. "It's
over, my dear.  Let's forget the past and get this show back on the
road."

IT TOOK E\ ERYONE IN CONGRESS only a month to discover that Senator
Kane was back with a vengeance.  And when the President phoned her
personally, she knew that her attacks on his Fresh Approach were coming
home to the one house where things could he changed.

"FlorentynA, I'm eighteen months away from Election Day and you're
taking my Fresh Approach campaign apart.  Do you want the Republicans
to win the next election?"

"No, of course not, but with your Fresh Approach we only spent in one
year on welfare what we spent on defense in six weeks.  Do you realize
how many people in this country don't even eat one quare meal a day?"

"Yes, Floientyna, I do-"

"Do you also know what the figures are for people who steep on the
streets each night in America?  Not India, not Africa, not Asia.  I'm
talking about America.  And how many of those people haven't had a job
in ten years-not ten weeks or ten months but ten years, Mr.
President?"

"Florentyna, whenever you call me Mr.  President I know I'm in
troubl,:.

What do you of all people expect me to do?  You have always been among
those Democrats who advocate a strong defense program."

"And I still do, but there are millions of people across America who
wouldn't give a damn if the Russians came marching down Pennsylvania

Avenue right now, because they don't believe they could be any worse
off."

"I hear what you're saying, but you've become a hawk in dove's
clothing, and statements I ike the one you just made may make wonderful
headlines for you, but what do you expect me to do about it?"

"Set up i, Presidential commission to look into how our welfare money
is spent.  I already have three of my staff working on it and I intend
to present some of the horrors they are unearthing about misuse of
funds before a hearing at the earliest date.  I can promise you,

Mr.  President, the figures will make your hair curl."

"Have yon forgotten I'm nearly bald, Florentyna?"  She laughed.  "I
like the idea of a commission."  The President paused.  "I could even
float the concept at my next press conference.  "

"Why don't you do that, Mr.  President.  And tell them about the man
who's been sleeping on a bench for thirteen years little more than a
stone's throw from the White House while you slumbered in the Lincoln
bedroom.

A man who lost a leg in Vietnam and doesn't even know he is entitled to
sixty-three dollars a week compensation from the Veterans
Administration.

And if he did, he wouldn't know how to collect it, because his local VA
office is in Texas, and if in an inspired moment they decided to send a
check to him where would they address it?  A park bench, near the

Capitol?"

"Danny One-Leg," said the President.

"So you know about Danny?"

"Who doesn't?  He's had more good publicity in two weeks than I've had
in two years.  I'm even considering an amputation.  I fought for any
country in Vietnam, you know."

"And you've managed to take care of yourself ever since."

"Florentyiia, if I set up a Presidential commission on welfare, will
you give it your support?"

"I certainly will, Mr.  President."

"And will you stop attacking Texas?"

"That was unfortunate.  A junior researcher of mine discovered Danny
had come from Texas, but do you realize that in spite of the illegal
immigrant problem, over twenty percent of the people of Texas have an
annual income of less than-T'

"I know, I know, Florentyna, but you seem to forget that my Vice

President comes from Houston and he hasn't had a day's rest since
Danny

One-Leg hit the front pages."

"Poor old Pete," said Florentyna.  "He will be the first Vice President
who has had something to worry about other than where his next meal is
coming from."

"And you mustn't be hard on Pete, he plays his role."

"You mean balances the ticket so that you can stay in the White
House."

"Florentyna, you're a wicked lady and I warn you that I

intend to open my press conference next Thursday by saying I have come
up with a brilliant idea."

"You've come up with the idea?"

"Yes," said the President.  "There must be some compensation for taking
the heat all the time.  I repeat that I have come up with this
brilliant idea of a Presidential commission on Waste in Welfare
and"-the President hesitated for a minute-"that Senator Kane has agreed
to be the chairman.  Now will that keep you qUiet for a few days?"

"Yes," said Florentyna, "and I'll try to report within one year so that
you have time before the election to describe to the voters your bold
new plans to sweep away the cobwebs of the past and usher in the Fresh
Approach."

"Florentyna.  "

"I'm sorry, Mr.  President.  I just couldn't resist that."

Janet didn't know where Florentyna was going to find the time to chair
such an important commission.  Her appointment books already needed the
staffer with the smallest handwriting to complete each page.

"I need three hours clear every day for the next six months," said

Florentyna.

"Sure thing," said Janet.  "How do you feel about two o'clock to five
o'clock every morning?"

"Suits mi,-," said Florentyna, "but I'm not sure we could get anyone
else to sit on a commission under those conditions."  Florentyna
smiled.  "And we're going to need more staffers."

Janet had already filled all the vacancies that had been created from
resignations during the past few months.  She had appointed a new press
secretary, a new speech writer, and four more legislative researchers
from some of the outstanding young college graduates who were now
banging on

Florentyna's door.  "Let's be thankful that the Baron Group can afford
the extra cost," Janet added.

Once the President had made his announcement, Florentyna set to work.
Her commission consisted of twenty members plus a professional supporl
staff of eleven.  She divided the commission itself so that half were
professional people who had never needed welfare in their lives or
given the subject much thought unti I asked to do so by Florentyna,
while the other half were currently on welfare or unemployed.

A clean-ihaven Danny, wearing his first suit, joined Flonntyna's stdff
as a full-time advisor.  The originality of the idea took Washington by
surprise.  Article after article was written on Senator Kane's "Park
Bench Commissioners."  Danny One-Leg told stories that made the other
half of the committee realize how deep-seated the problem was and how
many abuses still needed to be corrected, so that those in genuine need
received fair recompense.

Among those who were questioned by the committee were Matt the Grain,
who now slept on the bench Danny had vacated, and "Tom Guinzburg," an
ingenious convict from Leavenworth who, for a parole deal arranged by

Florentyna, told the committee how he had been able to milk a thousand
dollars a week out of welfare before the police caught up with him. The
man had so many aliases he was no longer sure of his own name; at one
point he had supported seventeen wives, forty-one dependent children
and nineteen dependent parents, all of whom were nonexistent except on
the national welfare computer.  Florentyna thought he might be
exaggerating until he showed the commission how to get the President of
the United

States onto the computer as unemployed, with two dependent children,
living with his aging mother at 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue, Washington,

D.C. Guinzburg also went on to confirm something she had already
feared-that he was small fry compared with the professional crime
syndicates who thought nothing of raking in fifty thousand dollars a
week through phony welfare recipients.

She later discovered that Danny One-Leg's real name was on the computer
and that someone else had been caecting his money for the past thirteen
years.  It didn't take a lot longer to discover that Matt the Grain and
several of his friends from parking lot sixteen were also on the
computer although they had never received a penny themselves.

Fiorentyna went on to prove that there were over a million people
entitled to aid who were not receiving it, while, at the same time, the
money was going elsewhere.  She became convinced that there was no need
to ask Congress for more money, just for safeguards designed to ensure
that the annual pay-out of over ten billion dollars was reaching the
right people.  Many of those who needed help just simply couldn't read
or write and so never returned to the government office once they had
been presented with long forms to complete.  Their names became an easy
source of income for even a small-time crook.  When Florentyna
presented her report to the President ten months later, he sent a
series of new safeguards to Congress for its immediate consideration.
He also announced that he would be drawing up a Welfare Reform Program
before the election.

The press was fascinated by the way Florentyna had got the President's
name and address onto the unemployment computer; from Mac Nelly to
Peters, the cartoonists had a field day, while the FBI made a series of
welfare fraud arrests right across the country.

The press praised the President for his initiative and the Washington

Post declared that Senator Kane had done more in one year for those in
genuine need than the New Deal and the Great Society put together. This
was indeed a "fresh approach"; Florentyna had to smile.  Rumors began
to circulate that she would replace Pete Parkin as Vice President when
the next election came around.  On Monday she was on the cover of
Newsweek for the first time and across the bottom ran the words:
"America's First

Woman Vice President?"  Florentyna was far too shrewd a politician to
be fooled by press speculation.  She knew that when the time came,
the

President would stick with Parkin, balance the ticket and be sure of
the

South.  Much as he admired Flornentyna, the President wanted another
four years in the White House.

Once again, Florentyna,s biggest problem in life was in determining
priorities among the many issues and people that competed for her
attention.  Among the requests from senators to help them with their
campaigns was one from Ralph Brooks.  Brooks, who never lost the
opportunity to describe himself as the state's senior senator, had
recently been appointed chairman of the Senate Energy and Natural

Resources Committee, which kept him in the public eye.  He had received
considerable praise for his handling of the oil tycoons and leaders of
big business.  Florentyna was aware that he never spoke well of her in
private, but when proof of this came back to her, she dismissed it as
unimportant.  She was surprised, however, when he asked her to share a
TV commercial spot with him, saying how well they worked together and
stressing how important it was that both Illinois senators be
Democratic.

After she had been urged to cooperate by the party chairman in
Chicago,

Florentyna agreed, although she had not spoken to her Senate colleague
more than two or three times a month during her entire term in
Congress.

She hoped her endorsement might patch up their differences.  It
didn't.

Two years later when she came up for re-election, his support for her
was rarely more than a whisper.

As the Presidential election drew nearer, more and more senators
seeking re-election asked Floretyna to speak in their behalf.  During
the last six months of 1988 she rarely spent a weekend at borne; even
the President invited her to join him in several campaign appearances.
He had been delighted by the public reaction to the

Kane Commission report on welfare, and he agreed to the one request

Florentyna made of him, although he knew that Pete Parkin and Ralph
Brooks would be furious when they heard.

Florentyna had had little or no social life since Richard's death,
although she had managed to spend an occasional weekend with William,

Joanna and her three-year-old grandson Richard at the Red House on
Beacon

Hill.  Whenever she found a weekend free to be back at the Cape,
Annabel would join her.

Edward, who was now chairman of the Baron Group and vice-chairman of

Lester's Bank, reported to her at least once a week, producing results
even Richard would have been proud of.  On Cape Cod he would join her
for golf, but unlike the results of her rounds with Richard, Florentyna
always won.  Each time she did she would donate her winnings to the
local

Republican club in Richard's memory.  The local GOP man obligingly
recorded the gifts as coming from an anonymous donor because
Florentyna's constituents would have been hard put to understand her
reasons for switch-hitting.

Edward left Florentyna in no doubt of his feelings for her and once
hesitantly went so far as to propose.  Florentyna kissed her closest
friend gently on the cheek.  "I will never marry again," she said, "but
if you ever beat me at a round of golf, I'll reconsider your offer."

Edward immediately started taking golf lessons, but Florentyna was
always too good for him.

When the press got hold of the news that Senator Kane had been chosen
to, deliver the keynote speech at the Democratic convention in Detroit,
they started writing about her as a possible Presidential candidate in
1992.

Edward became excited about these suggestions, but she reminded him
that they had also considered forty-three other candidates in the last
six months.  As the President had predicted, Pete Parkin was livid when
the suggestion came up that the keynote speech be delivered by
Flornentyna but eventually calmed down when he realized that the
President had no intention of dropping him from the ticket.  It only
convinced Florentyna that the Vice President was going to be her
biggest rival if she did decide to run in four years' time.

The President and Pete Parkin were renominated at a dull party
convention, with only a handful of dissenters and favorite sons to keep
the delegates awake.  Florentyna wistfully recalled livelier
conventions, such as the GOP's 1976 melee, during which Nelson
Rockefeller had pulled a phone out of the wall in the Kansas City
convention hall.

Florentyna's keynote speech was received by the delegates in decibels
fewer only than those accorded the President's speech of acceptance,
and it caused posters and campaign buttons to appear on the final day
with the words: "Kane for '92."  Only in America could ten thousand
campaign buttons appear overnight, thought Florentyna, and she took one
home for young Richard.  Her Presidential campaign was beginning
without her even lifting a finger.

During the final weeks before the election, Florentyna traveled to
almost as many swing states as the President himself and the press
suggested that her un stinting loyalty might well have been a factor in
the

Democrats' slim victory.  Ralph Brooks was returned to the Senate with
a slightly increased majority.  It reminded Florentyna that her own
re-election to the Senate was now only two years away.

When the first session of the 101st Congress opened, Florentyna found
that many of her colleagues in both houses were openly letting her know
of their support should she decide to put her name forward for the

Presidency.  She realized that some of them would be saying exactly the
same thing to Pete Parkin, but she made a note of each one and always
sent a handwritten letter of thanks the same day.

Her hardest task before facing re-election for the Senate was to steer
the new Welfare bill through both houses, and the job took up most of
her time.  She personally sponsored seven amendments to the bill,
principally placing responsibility on the federal government for all
costs of creating a nationwide minimum income and a major overhaul of
social security.  She spent hours badgering, cajoling, coaxing and
almost bribing her colleagues until the bill became law.  She stood
behind the President when he signed the new act in the Rose Garden.
Cameras rolled and shutters clicked from the ring of press
photographers standing behind a cordoned-off area.  It was the greatest
single achievement of Florentyna's political career.  The President
delivered a self-serving statement and then rose to shake Florentyna's
hand.  "This is the lady whom we can thank for "The Kane Act," he said
and whisper cd in her car, "Good thing the VP's in South America or I
would never hear the end of it."

Press and public alike praised the skill and determination with which

Senator Kane had guided the bill through Congress and The New York
Times said that if she achieved nothing more in her political career,
she would have placed on the books a piece of legislation that would
stand the test of time.  Under the new law, no one in genuine need
would forfeit his rights, while at the other end of the scale, those
who played the "Welfare Charade" would now end up behind bars.

As soon as the fuss had blown over, Janet warned Florentyna that she
must spend more time in the state now that the election was less than
nine months away.  Nearly all the senior members of the party offered
their services to Florentyna when she came up for re-election, but it
was the

President who broke into a heavy schedule to support her and drew the
biggest crowd when he spoke at the convention hall in Chicago.  As they
walked up the steps together to the strains of "Happy Days Are Here

Again" he whispered, "Now I am going to get my revenge for all the flak
you've given me over the past five years."

The President described Florentyna as the woman who had given him more
problems than his wife and now he heard she wanted to sleep in his bed
at the White House.  When the laughter died down, he added, "And if she
does aspire to that great office, America could not be better
served."

The next day the press suggested that the statement was a direct snub
to

Pete Parkin and that Florentyna would have the backing of the President
if she decided to run.  The President denied this interpretation of
what he had said, but from that moment on Florentyna was placed in the
unfortunate position of being the front-runner for 1992.  When the
results of her Senate race came in, even Florentyna was surprised by
the size of her victory, as most Democratic senators had lost ground in
the usual midterm election swing against the White House.  Florentyna's
overwhelming victory confirmed the party's view that it had found not
only a standard-bearer but something far more important: a winner.

The week of the first session of the 102nd Congress opened with

Florentyna's picture on the cover of Time.  Full profiles of her life,
giving the details of her playing Saint Joan at Girls Latin and winning
the Woolson Scholarship to Radcliffe, were meticulously chronicled.
They even explained why her late husband had called her Jessie.  She
had become the best-known woman in America.  "This channing 57-year-old
woman," said

Time in its summation, "is both intelligent and witty.  Only beware
when you see her hand clench into a tight fist because it's then she
becomes a heavyweight."

During the new session, Florentyna tried to carry out the normal duties
of a senator but she was daily being asked by colleagues, friends and
the press when she would be making a statement about her intentions to
run or not to run for the White House.  She tried to sidetrack them by
taking more interest in the major issues of the day.  At the time
Quebec elected a left-wing government she.  flew to Canada to
participate in exploratory talks with British Columbia, Saskatchewan
and Manitoba about federation with America.  the press followed her and
after she returned to Washington, the media no longer described her as
a politician but as America's first stateswoman.

Pete Parkin was already informing anyone and everyone who wanted to
listen that he intended to run and an official announcement was
considered imminent.  The Vice President was five years older than

Florentyna and she knew this would be his last opportunity to hear
"Hail to the Chief" played for him.  Florentyna felt it might be her
only chance.  She remembered that Margaret Thatcher had told her when
she became Prime Minister, "The only difference between the leader of a
party's being a man or a woman is that if a woman loses, the men won't
give you a second chance."

Florentyna had no doubt what Bob Buchanan would have advised had He
still been alive.  Read Julius Caesar, my dear, but this time Brutus
and not Mark Antony.

She and E.dward spent a quiet weekend together at Cape Cod, and while
he lost yet another golf match, they discussed the tide in the, affairs
of one woman, the flood and the possible fortune.

By the time that Edward returned to New York and Florentyna to

Washington.  the decision had finally been made.  AND TO THA,r END I
declare my candidacy for the office of President of the United
States."

Florentyna gazed into the Senate Caucus Room at the 350 applauding in
embers of the audience, which occupied a space that the
sergeant-at-arms insisted should only hold 300.  Television camera
crews and press photographers shoved and dodged to prevent their frames
from being filled with the backs of anonymous heads.  Florentyna
remained seated during the prolonged applause that followed her
announcement.  When the noise had finally ebbed, Edward stepped up to
face the battery of, microphones at the podium.

"Ladies and gentlemen," he said.  I know the candidate will be
delighted to answer your questions."

Half the people io the room started to speak at once and Edward nodded
to a man in the third row to indicate that he could ask the first
question.

"Albert Hunt of The Wall Street Journal, " he said.  "Senator Kane, who
do you think will be your toughest opponent?"

"The Republican candidate," she said without hesitation.  There was a
ripple of laughter and some applause.  Edward smiled and called for the
next question.

"Senator Kane, is this really a bid to be Pete Parkin's running
mate?"

"No, I am not interested in the office of Vice President," replied

Florentyna.  "At best it's a period of stagnation while you wait around
in the hope -of doing the real job.  At worst I 353

am reminded of Nelson Rockefeller's words: "Don't take the number two
spot unless you're up for a four-year advanced seminar in political
science and a lot of state funerals."  I'm not in the mood for
either."

"Do you feel America is ready for a woman President?"

"Yes, I do, otherwise I would not be willing to run for the office,
but

I will be in a better position to answer that question on November
third."

"Do you think the Republicans might select a woman?"

"No, they don't have the courage for such a bold move.  They'll watch
the

Democrats make a success of the idea and copy it when the next election
comes around."

"Do you feel you have enough experience to hold this office?"

"I have bLt~n a wife, a mother, the chain nan of a multimillion-dollar
corporation, a member of the House for eight years and a senator for
seven.  In the public career I've chosen, the Presidenc~ is the number
one spot.  So yes, I believe I am now qualified for that job."

"Do you expect the success of your Welfare Act to help you with the
votes of the poor and black communities?"

"I hope the act will bring me support from every sector.  My main
intent with that piece of legislation was to ensure that both those who
contribute to welfare through taxation and those who benefit from the
legislation will feel that the provisions made are-just and humane in a
modern society."

"After the Russian invasion of Yugoslavia, would your administration
take a harder line with the Kremlin?"

"After Hungary, Czechoslovakia, Afghanistan, Poland and now Yugoslavia,
the latest Soviet offensive on the Pakistan border reinforces my
long-standing conviction that we must remain vigilant in the defense of
our people.  We must always remember that the fact that the two biggest
oceans on earth have protected us in the past is no guarantee of our
safety in the future."

"The President has described you as a hawk in dove's clothing."

"I'm not sure if that's a comment on my dress or my looks, but I
suspect that the combination of those two birds looks not unlike the
American eagle."

"Do you feel we can keep a special relationship with Europe after the
election results in France and Britain?"

"The decision of the French to return to a Gaullist government while
the British voted for a new Labor administration does not greatly
concern me.  Michel Chirac and Roy Hattersley have both proved to be
good friends of America in the past and I see no reason why that should
change in the future."

"Do you expect Ralph Brooks's support for your campaign?"

It was the first question that took Florentyna by surprise.  "Perhaps
you should ask him.  But I naturally hope that Senator Brooks will feet
pleased by my decision."  She could think of nothing else to add.

"Senator Kane, do you approve of the current primary system?"

"No.  Although I'm not a supporter of a national primary, the present
system is by any standards archaic.  America seems to have developed a
process for the selection of a President that is more.  responsive to
the demands of the network news programs than it is to the needs of
modern government.  It also encourages dilettante candidates.  Today,
you have a better chance of becoming President if you are temporarily
out of work, having been left several million by your grandmother.  You
then have four years off to devote to running around the country
collecting delegates, while the people best qualified for the I job are
probably doing a Ul day's work elsewhere.  If I became President, I
would seek to send a bill to the Congress which would not handicap
anyone from running for the Presidency through lack of time or money.
We must reinstate the age-old precept that anyone born in this country,
with both the desire to serve and the ability to do the job, will not
find themselves disqualified before the first voter goes to the
polls."

The questions continued to come to Florentyna from all parts of the
room and she took the last one over an hour later.

"Senator Kane, if you become President, will you be like Washington and
never tell a lie or like Nixon and have your own definition of the
truth?"

"I cannot promise I will never lie.  We all lie, sometimes to protect a
friend or a member of our family and if I were President perhaps to
protect my country.  Sometimes we lie just because we don't want to be
found out.

The one thing I can assure you of is that I am the only woman in
America who has never been able to lie about her age."  When the
laughter died down,

Florentyna remained standing.  "I'd like to end this press conference
by saying that whatever the outcome of my decision today, I wish to
express my thanks as an American for the fact that the daughter of an
immigrant has found it possible to run for the highest office in the
land.  I don't believe such an ambition would be attainable in any
other country in the world."

Florentyna's life began to change the moment she left the room; four

Secret Service agents formed a circle around the candidate, the lead
one skillfully creating a passage for her through the mass of people.

Florentyna smiled when Brad Staimes introduced himself and explained
that for the duration of her candidacy.  there would alwa~ s be four
agents with her night and day, working in eight-hour shifts. Florentyna
couldn't help noticing that two of the agents were women whose build
and physical appearance closely resembled her own.  She thanked Staimes
but never quite became used to seeing one of the agents whenever she
turned her head.

Their tiny earphones distinguished them from well-wisher~" and

Florentyna recalled the story about an elderly lady who attended a
Nixon rally in 1972.  She approached a Nixon aide at the end of the
candidate's speech and said she would definitely vote for his
re-election because he obviously sympathized with those who, like
herself, were hard of hearing.

Following the press conference, Edward chaired a strategy meeting in

Florentyna's office to work out a rough schedule for the coming
campaign.

The Vice President had some time before announced that he was a
candidate and several other contestants had thrown their hats into the
ring, but the press had already decided that the real battle was going
to be between Kane and Parkin.

Edward had lined up a formidable team of pollsters, finance chairmen
and policy advisors who were well supplemented by Florentyna's seasoned
staff in Washington, still led by Janet Brown.

First Edward outlined his day-by-day plan leading up to the first
primary in New Hampshire, and from there to California, all the way to
the convention floor in Detroit.  Florentyna had tried to arrange for
the convention to be held in Chicago but the Vice President vetoed the
idea: he wasn't challenging Florentyna on her home ground.  He reminded
the

Democratic committee that the choice of Chicago and the riots that
followed might have been the single reason that Humphrey lost to Nixon
in 1968.

Florentyna had already faced the fact that it would be almost
impossible for her to beat the Vice President in the southern states,
so it was vital that she get off to a strong start in New

England and the Midwest.  She agreed that during the next three months
she would devote seventy-five percent of her energies to the campaign,
and for several hours her team threw around ideas for the best use of
that time.

It was also agreed that she would make regular trips to the major
cities that voted in the first three primaries and, if she made a
strong showing in New Hampshire, a traditionally conservative area,
they would plan their forward strategy accordingly.

Florentyna dealt with as much of her Senate work as possible between
making frequent trips to New Hampshire, Vermont and Massachuietts.
Edward had chartered a six-seater Lear jet for her with two pilots
available around the clock so that she could leave Washington at a
moment's notice.

All three primary states had set up strong campaign headquarters, and
everywhere Florentyna went she spotted as many "Kane for President"
posters and bumper stickers as she did for Pete Parkin.

With only seven weeks left until the first primary, Florentyna began to
spend more and more of her time chasing the 147,000 registered
Democrats in the state.  Edward did not expect her to capture more than
30 percent of the votes, but he felt that might well be enough to win
the primary and persuade doubters that she was an electoral asset.
Florentyna needed every delegate she could secure before they arrived
in the South, even if possible to pass the magic 1,666 by the time she
reached the convention hall in Detroit.

The early signs were good.  Florentyna's private pollster, Kevin
Palumbo, assured her that the race with the Vice President was running
neck and neck, and Gallup and Harris seemed to confirm that view.  Only
7 percent of the voters said they would not under any circumstances
vote for a woman, but Florentyna knew just how important 7 percent
could be if the final outcome was close.

Florentyna's schedule included brief stops at more than 150 of New

Hampshire's 250 small towns.  Despite the hectic nature of each day,
she grew to love the classical New England mill towns, the crustiness
of the

Granite State's farmers and the stark beauty of its winter landscape.

She served as starter for a dogsled race in Franconia and visited the
most northerly settlement near the Canadian border.  She learned to
respect the penetrating insights of local newspaper editors, many of
whom had retired from high-level jobs with national magazines and news
services.

She avoided discussions of one particular issue after discovering
that

New

Hampshire residents stoutly defended their right to oppose a state
income lax, thus attracting a host of high-income professionals from
across the Massachusetts border.

More than once she had occasion to be thankful for the death of

William Loeb, the newspaper publisher whose outrageous misuse of the

Manchester Union-Leader had helped destroy the candidacies of Edmund

Muskie and George Bush before her.  It was no secret that Loeb had had
no time for women in politics.

Edward was able to report that money was flowing into their
headquarters in Chicago and "Kane for President" offices were springing
up in every state.  Some of them had more volunteers than they could
physically accommodate; the overspill turned dozens of living rooms and
garages throughout America into makeshift campaign headquarters.

In the final seven days before the first primary, Flarentyna was
interviewed by Barbara Walters, Dan Rather and Frank Reynolds, as well
as appearing on all three major morning news programs.  As Andy Miller,
her press secretary, pointed out, fifty-two million people watched her
interview with Barbara Walters and it would have taken over five
hundred years to shake the hands of that number of voters in New

Hampshire.  Nevertheless, her local managers saw to it that she visited
nearly every home for the aged in the state.

Despite this, Florentyna had to pound the streets of New Hampshire
towns, shaking hands with paper mill workers in Berlin, as ~well as
with the somewhat inebriated denizens of the VFW and American Legion
posts, which seemed to exist in every town.  She learned to work the
ski-lift lines in the smaller hills rather than the famous resorts,
which were often peopled by a majority of nonvoting visitors from New

York or Massachusetts.

If she failed with this tiny electorate of the northern tip of

America, Florentyna knew it would raise major doubts about her
credibility as a candidate.

Whenever she arrived in a city, Edward was always there to meet her and
he never let her stop until the moment she stepped back onto her
plane.

Edward told her that they could thank heaven for the curiosity valLIC
of a woman candidate.  His advance team never had to worry about
filling any hall where Florentyna was to speak, with potted plants
rather than with Granite State voters.

Pete Park-in, who had a good-luck streak with funeral duty,
-----"Proved that the Vice President had little else to do: he spent
more time in the state than Florentyna could.  On the eve of the
primary

Edward was able to show that someone on the Kane team had contacted by
phone, letter or personal visit 125,000 of the 147,000 registered

Democrats; but, he added, obviously so had Pete Parkin because many of
them had remained noncommittal and some even hostile.

Later that night, Florentyna held a rally in Manchester which over
three thousand people attended.  When Janet told her that tomorrow she
would be about one fiftieth of the way through the campaign, Florentyna
replied,

"Or already finished."  She went to her motel room a little after
midnight followed by the camera crews of CBS, NBC, ABC and Cable News
and four agents of the Secret Service, all of whom were convinced she
was going to win.

The voters of New Hampshire woke up to drifting snow and icy winds.

Florentyna spent the day driving from polling place to polling place
thanking the party faithful until the last poll closed.  At eleven
minutes past nine, CBS was the first to tell the national audience that
the turnout was estimated at forty seven percent, which Dan Rather
considered high in view of the weather conditions.  The early voting
pattern showed that the pollsters had proved right: Florentyna and Pete
Parkin were running neck and neck, each taking over the lead during the
night but never by more than a couple of percentage points.  Florentyna
sat in her motel room with Edward, Janet, her closest staffers and two
Secret

Service agents, watching the final results come in.

"The outcome couldn't have been closer if they had planned it," said

Jessica Savitch, who announced the result first for NBC.  "Senator Kane
thirty point five, Vice President Parkin thirty point two, Senator
Bill

Bradley sixteen point four peycent and the rest of the votes scattered
among five others who in my opii ion," added Savitch, "needn't bother
to book a hotel room to- the next primary."

"If the result of the New Hampshire primary turns out to be
satisfrictorv

Florentyna left for Massachusetts with 6 delegates committed to her.
Pete

Parkin had 5. The national press declared no winner but five losers.
Only three candidates were seen in Massachusetts, and Florentyna seemed
to have buried the bogey that as a woman she couldn't be a serious
contender.

In Massachusetts she had fourteen days to capture as many of the I I I
delegates as possible, and here her work pattern hardly varied.  Each
day she would carry out the schedule that

Edward had organized for her, a program which ensured that the
candidate saw as many voters as possible and found some way to get onto
the morning or evening news.

Florentyna posed with babies, union leaders and Italian restaurateurs;
she ate scallops, linguine, Portuguese sweet bread and cranberries; she
rode the MTA, the Nantucket ferry and the Alameda bus line the length
of the

Mass Pike; she jogged on beaches, hiked in the gerkshires and shopped
in

Boston's Quincy Market, all in an effort to prove she had the stamina
of any man.  Nursing her aching body in a hot tub, she came to the
conclusion that had her father remained in Russia, her route to the
Presidency of the

USSR couldn't have been any harder.

In Massachusetts, Florentyna held off Pete Parkin for a second time,
taking 47 delegates to the Vice President's 39.  The same day in
Vermont, she captured 8 of the state's 12 delegates.  Because of the
upsets already achieved by Florentyna, the political pollsters were
saying that more people were answering "Yes" when asked "Could a woman
win the Presidential election?"  But even she was amused when she read
that 5 percent of the voters had not realized that Senator Kane was a
woman.  The press was quick to point out that her next big test would
be in the South, where the

Florida, Georgia and Alabama primaries all fell on the same day.  If
she could hold on there she had a real chance, because the Democratic
race had become a private battle between herself and the Vice
President.  Bill

Bradley, having secured only I I percent of the votes in Massachusetts,
had dropped out because of lack of funds, although his name remained on
the ballot in several states and no one doubted he would be a serious
candidate sometime in the future.  Bradley had been Florentyna's first
choice as running mate, and she already had the New Jersey senator on
her short list for consideration for Vice President.

When the Florida ballots were counted, it came as no surprise that the
Vice

President had taken 62 of the 100 delegates, and he repeated the trend
in

Georgia by winning 40 to 23" followed by Alabama, where he captured 28
of the 45 voters, but Pete Parkin was not, as he had promised the
press, "trouncing the little lady when she puts her elegant toes in the
South.  Parkin was increasingly trying to outdo Florentyna as a
champion of the military, but his choice of legislation setting up the
so-called "Fort

Gringo Line" along the Mexican-American border was beginning to
rebound.  on him in the Southwest, where he had imagined he was
unbeatable.

Edward and his team were now working several primaries ahead as they
crisscrossed the country back and forth; Florentyna thanked heaven for
her ample campaign funds as the Learjet touched down in state after
state.  Her energy remained boundless and if anything it was the Vice

President who began to stammer and sound tired and hoarse at the end of
each day.  Both candidates had to fit in trips to San Juan, and when

Puerto Rico held its primary in mid-March, 25 of the 41 delegates
favored

Florentyna.  Two days later, she arrived back in her home state for
the

Illinois primary, trailing Parkin 164 to 194.

The Windy City came to a standstill as its inhabitants welcomed their
favorite daughter, giving her every one of the 179 Illinois delegates
so that she went back into the lead with 343 committed delegates.
However, when they moved on to New York, Connecticut, Wisconsin and
Pennsylvania, the Vice President eroded the lead until he arrived in
Texas trailing by only 591 to Florentyna's 655.

No one was surprised when Pete Parkin took 100 percent of the delegates
in his home state; they hadn't had a President since Lyndon Baines

Johnson and the male half of Texas believed that while J. R. Ewing
might have had his faults, he had been right about a woman's place
being in the home.  The Vice President left his ranch outside Houston
with a lead of 743 to Florentyna's'655.

Traveling around the country under such tremendous daily pressure, both
candidates found an off-the-cuff remark or an unwary comment could
easily turn out to be tomorrow's headline.  Pete Parkin was the first
to make a gaffe when he got Peru mixed up with Paraguay, and the
photographers went wild when he rode through Flint in a chauffeured
Mercedes on one of his motorcades.  Nor was Florentyna without her
mishaps.  In Alabama, when asked if she would consider a black running
mate as Vice President, she replied, "Of course, I've already
considered the idea."  It took repeated statements to persuade the
press that she had not already invited one of

America's black leaders to join her ticket.

Her biggest mistake, however, was in Virginia.  She addressed the

University of Virginia Law School on the parole system and the changes
she would like to make if she became President.  The speech had been
written and researched for her by one of the staffers in Washington who
had been with Flo rentyna in her days as a congresswoman.  She read the
text through carefully the night before, making only a few minor
changes, admiring the way the piece had been put together, and
delivered the speech to a crowded hall of law students who received it
enthusiastically.  When she left for an evening meeting of the
Charlottesville Rotary Club to talk on the problems facing cattle
farmers, she dismissed all thought of the earlier speech until site mad
the local paper the next morning during breakfast at the Boar's Head
Inn.

The Richmond News-Leader came out with a story that all the national
pitpers picked up immediately.  A local journalist covering the biggest
scoop of his life suggested that Florentyna's speech was outstanding
because it had been written by one of Senatot Kane's most trusted staff
members, Allen Clarence who was an ex-convict himself, having been
given a six month jail sentence with a year's probation before going to
work for Florentyna.  Few of the papers pointed out that the offense
had been drunken driving without a license and that Clarence had been
released on appeal after three months.  When questioned by the press on
what she intended to do about Clarence, she said, "Nothing."

Edward told her that she must fire him immediately, however unfair it
might seem, because those sections of the press who were against
her-not to mention Pete Parkin-were having a field day repeating that
one of her most trusted staff members was an ex-con.  "Can you imagine
who will be running the jails in this country if that woman is
elected?"  became

Parkin's hourly off-the-cuff remark.  Eventually, Allen Clarence
voluntarily resigned, but by then the damage had been done.  By the
time the two candidates reached California, Pete Parkin had increased
his lead, with 991 delegates to Florentyna's 883.

When Florentyna arrived in San Francisco, Bella was there to meet her
at the airport.  She might have put on thirty years, but she still
hadn't lost any pounds.  By her side stood Claude, one enormous son and
one skinny daughter.  Bella ran toward Florentyna the moment she saw
her, only to be blocked by burly Secret Service agents.  She was
rescued by a hug from the candidate.  "I've never seen anything like
her," said one of the

Secret Service men.  "She could kick start a Jumbo."  Hundreds of
people stood at the perimeter of the tarmac chanting "President Kane"
and

Florentyna, accompanied by Bella, walked straight over to them.  Hands
flew in Florentyna's direction, a reaction that never failed to lift
her spirits.  The placards mad

"California for Kane" and for the first time the majority of the crowd
was made up of men.  When she turned to leave them and go into the
terminal she saw scrawled all over the side of a wall in red, "Do you
want a Polack bitch for President?"  and underneath, in white, "Yes."

Bella, now the headmistress of one of the largest schools in
California, had also, after Florentyna had won a seat in the Senate,
become the city's Democmtic committee chairwoman.

"I always knew you would run for President, so I thought I had better
make certain of San Francisco."

Bella did make certain, with her 1,000 so-called volunteers banging on
every door.  California's split personality-conservative in the south,
liberal in the north-made it difficult to be the kind of centrist
candidate Florentyna wanted to be.

But her efficiency, compassion and intelligence converted even some of
the most hardened Marin County left-wingers and

Orange County Birchers.  San Francisco's turnout was second only to
Chicago's.  Florentyna wished she had fifty-one Bellas because the vote
in San Francisco was enough to give her 69 percent of the state.  It
had been Bella who had made it possible for Florentyna to look forward
to arriving in Detroit for the convention with 128 more delegates than
Parkin.

Over a celebration dinner, Bella warned Florentyna that the biggest
problem she was facing was not "I'll never vote for a woman" but "She
has too much money."

"Not that old chestnut.  I can't do any more about that," said
Florentyna.

"I've already put my own Baron stock into the foundation."

"That's the point-no one knows what the foundation does.  I realize it
helps children in some way, but how many children, and how much money
is involved?"

"The trust last year spent over three million dollars on three thousand
one hundred and twelve immigrants from underprivileged backgrounds.
Added to that, four hundred and two gifted children won Remagen
scholarships to American universities and one went on to be the
foundation's first

Rhodes Scholar and will soon be on his way to Oxford."

"I wasn't aware of that," said Bella, "but I'm continually reminded
that

Pete Parkin built a feeble little library for the University of Texas
at

Austin.  And he's made sure the building is as well known as the
Widener

Library at Harvard."

"So what (to you feel Florentyna should be doing?"  asked Edward.

"Why don't you let Professor Ferpozzi hold his own press conference?
He's a man the public will take notice of.  After that everyone will
know that Florentyna Kane cares about other people and spends her own
money on them to prove it."

The next day, Edward worked on placing articles in selected
publications and organized a press conference.  They resulted in a
small piece in most journals and newspapers, but People magazine did a
cover picture of

Florentyna with Albert Schmidt,the Remagen Rhodes Scholar.  When it was
discovered that Albert was a German immigrant whose grandparents had
fled from Europe after escaping from a prisoner-of-war camp, David
Hartman interviewed Albert the next day on "Good Morning, America."
After that he seemed to be getting more publicity than Florentyna.

On her way back to Washington that weekend, Florentyna heard that the
governor of Colorado, whom she had never particularly considered a
friend or political ally, had endorsed her without advance warning at a
solar-energy symposium in Boulder.  Her approach to industry and
conservation, he told the convention, offered the resource-rich western
states their best hope for the future.

That day ended on an even brighter note when Reuters tapped out the
news right across America that the Welfare Department had delivered its
first major report since the implementation of the Kane Act.  For the
first time since Florentyna's overhaul of the social service system,
the welfare recipients leaving the register in a given year had
surpassed the number of new applicants coming on.

Florentyna's financial backing was always a problem as even the most
ardent supporters assumed she could foot her own campaign bills.
Parkin, with the backing of the oil tycoons led by Marvin Snyder of
Blade Oil, had never had to face the same problem.  But during the next
few days campaign contributions flowed into Florentyna's office, along
with telegrams of support and good wishes.

Influential journalists in London, Paris, Bonn and Tokyo began to tell
their readers that if America wanted a President of international
status and credibility there was no contest between Florentyna Kane and
the cattle farmer from Texas.

Florentyna was delighted whenever she read these articles, but Edward
reminded her that neither the readers nor the writers could pull any
levers on any voting machines in America, although he felt for the
first time they now had Parkin on the run.  He was also quick to point
out that there were still 412

of the 3,331 delegates who after the primaries and caucuses remained
undecided.  The political pundits estimated that 200 of them were
leaning toward the Vice President while about a hundred would come out
in favor of Florentyna.  It looked as if it was going to be the closest
convention roll call since Reagan ran against Ford.

After California, Florentyna returned to Washington with another
suitcase full of dirty clothes.  She knew she would have to cajole,
coax and arm-twist those 412 undecided delegates.  During the next four
weeks she spoke personally to 388 of them, some of them three or four
times.  It was always the women she found the least helpful, although
it was obvious they were all enjoying the attention that was being
showered on them, especially because in a month's time no one would
ever phone them again.

Edward ordered a computer terminal so that Florentyna had access to the
records at campaign headquarters.  The terminal provided information on
all 412 delegates who remained uncommitted, along with a short life
history of each, right down to their hotel room numbers in Detroit.
When he reached the convention city, he intended to be ready to put his
final plan into operation.

For five days during the next week, Florentyna made certain she was
never far from a television set.  The Republicans were at the Cow
Palace in San

Francisco, haggling over whom they wanted to lead them, no one having
excited the voters during the primaries.

The choice of Russell Warner came as no surprise to Florentyna.  He had
been campaigning for the Presidency ever since he had become governor
of

Ohio.  The press's description of Warner as a good governor in a bad
year reminded Florentyna that her main task would be to defeat Parkin.
Once again, she felt it was going to be easier to defeat the Republican
standardbearer than the opposition within her own party.

The weekend before the convention, Florentyna and Edward joined the
family on Cape Cod.  Exhausted, Florentyna still managed to beat Edward
in a round of golf and she thought he looked even more tired than she
felt.  She was thankful that the Baron was run so well by its new,
young directors, which now included William.

Flornentyna and Edward were both due to fly into Detroit on Monday
morning where they had taken over yet another Baron.  The hotel would
be filled with Florentyna's staff, supporters, the press and 124 of
those uncommitted delegates.

As she said good night to Edward and then to the Secret Service men and
women-whom she was beginning to treat as her extended family-that
Sunday night, Florentyna knew that the next four days were going to be
the most important in her political career.

WHEN JACK GERMOND OF THE Baltimore Sun asked Florentyna on the plane
when she had started working on her acceptance speech, she replied,
"Since my eleventh birthday."

On the flight from New York to Detroit Metro Airport, Florentyna had
read through her acceptance speech, already drafted in case she was
nominated on the first ballot.  Edward had predicted that she would not
secure victory on the first roll call, but Flor,.entyna felt she had to
be prepared for any eventuality.

Her advisors considered the result was much more likely to be known
after the second or even the third ballot, by which time Senator
Bradley would have released his 189 delegates.

During the previous week, she had drawn up a short list of four people
whom she thought worthy of consideration to join her on the ticket as

Vice President.  Bill Bradley still led the field and Florentyna felt
he was her natural successor to the White House, but she was also
considering Sam Nunn, Gary Hart and David Pryor.

Florentyna's thoughts were interrupted when the plane landed and she
looked out of the windows to see a large, excited crowd awaiting her.
She couldn't help wondering how many of them would also be there
tomorrow when Pete Parkin arrived.  She checked her hair in her compact
mirror; a few white strands were showing in the dark hair, but she made
no attempt to disguise them, and she smiled at the thought that Pete

Parkin's hair had remained the same implausible color for the past
thirty years.  Florentyna wore a simple linen suit and her only piece
of jewelry was a diamond studded donkey.

Florentyna unbuckled her seat belt, rose and ducked her head under the
overhead compartment.  She stepped into the aisle and as she turned to
leave, everyone in the plane began applauding.

She suddenly realized that if she lost the nomination, this would be
the last time she would ~ee them all together.  Florentyna shook hands
with all the members of the press corps, some of whom had been on the
trail with her for five months.  A crew member opened the cabin door
and Florentyna stepped out onto the staircase, squinting into the July
sun.  The crowd let up a yell of "There she is," and Florentyna walked
down the steps and straight toward the waving banners because she
always found that direct contact with the voters recharged her.  As she
touched the tarmac, she was once again surrounded by the Secret
Service, who dreaded crowds they could never control.  She might some
timi-s think of being assassinated when she was alone, but never when
she was,in a crowd.  Florentyna clasped outstretched hands and greeted
as many people as possible before Edward guided her away to the waiting
motorcade.

A line of ten small new Fords reminded her that Detroit had finally
come to terms with the energy crisis.  If Pete Parkin were to make the
mistake of being driven in a Mercedes in this city, she would be the
Democratic choice before Alabama cast its first vote.  Secret Service
men filled the first two cars while Florentyna A as in the third, with
Edward in front by the driver.  Florentyna's personal doctor rode in
the fourth and her staff filled the remaining six "Mighty Midgets," as
the new small Ford had been dubbed.  A press corps bus followed at the
rear with police outriders dotted up and down the motorcade.

The front car moved off at a snail's pace so that Fiorentyna could wave
to the crowds, but as soon as they reached the highway the cars
traveled into

Detroit at a steady fifty miles an hour.

For twenty minutes Florentyna relaxed in the back seat during the drive
into the midtown New Center area, where the motorcade exited at
Woodward

Avenue, turned south toward the river and slowed to about five miles an
hour as the crowds filled the streets to catch a glimpse of Senator
Kane.

Florentyna's organizing committee had distributed 100,000 handbills
showing the exact route she would take when she arrived in the city,
and her supporters cheered her all the way to the Baron Hotel.  The
Secret Service had begged her to change the route, but she wouldn't
hear of it.  Dozens of photographers and television crews were poised
awaiting her arrival as Florentyna stepped out of her car and climbed
the steps of the Detroit Baron, the whole area lit up by flashbulbs and
arc lights.  Once she was inside the hotel lobby, the

Secret Service men whisked her away to the twenty fourth floor.  which
had been reserved for her personal use.  She quickly checked over the
George

Novak Suite to see that everything she required was there, because she
knew that this was going to be her prison for the next four days.  The
only reason she would leave that room would be either to accept the
nomination as the

Democratic Party candidate or to declare her support for Pete Parkin.

A bank of telephones had been installed so that Flornentyna could keep in
touch with the 412 wavering delegates.  She spoke to thirty-eight of
them before dinner that night and then sat up until two o'clock the
next morning, going over the names and backgrounds of those who her
team genuinely felt had not made up their minds.

Next day, the Detroit Free Press was filled with pictures of her
arrival in

Detroit, but in truth she knew Pete Parkin would receive the same
enthusiastic coverage tomorrow.  At least she was relieved that the

President had decided to remain on the sidelines when it came to
supporting either candidate.  The press had already treated that as a
moral victory for

Florentyna.

She put the newspaper down and began to watch the closed circuit
television to see what was going on in the convention hall during the
first morning.

She also kept an eye on Athree channels at lunchtime in case any one
network came up with some exclusive piece of news that the other two
had missed and to which the press would demand her instant reaction.

During the day, thirty-one of the wavering delegates were brought to
meet her on the twenty-fourth floor.  As the hour progressed, they were
served coffee, iced tea, hot tea and cocktails.  Flornentyna stuck to
Perrier water.

She watched in silence as Pete Parkin arrived in Air Force Two at the

Detroit air pon  One staffer told her that his crowd was smaller than
the one that had turned out for her yesterday, while another said it
was larger.  She made a mental note of the staffer who said that
Parkin's crowd was larger today and decided to listen to his opinions
more carefully in the future.

Pete Parkin made a short speech at a specially set-up podium on the
tarmac, his Vice Presidential seal of office glistening in the sun.  He
said how delighted he was to be in the city that could rightly describe
itself as the car capital of the world.  I should know," he added,
"I've owned Fords all my life."  Florentyna smile-d.

By the end of two days under "house arrest," Florentyna had complained
so much about being cooped up that on Wednesday morning the Secret

Service took her down in a freight elevator so that she could stroll
along the river front, enjoying the fresh air and the skyline view of

Windsor, Ontario, on the opposite bank.  She had gone only a few paces
before she was surrounded by well-wishers who wanted to touch her
hand.

When she returned, Edward had some good news: five uncommitted
delegates had decided to vote for her on the first ballot.  He
estimated that they needed only another seventy three to claim the
magic 1,666.  On the monitor she followed the program on the floor of
the convention hall.  A black school superintendent from Delaware
expounded Florentyna's virtues, and when she mentioned Florentyna's
name the blue placards filled the hall with "Kane for President."
During the speech that followed, there was an equivalent sea of red
placards demanding "Parkin for President."

She paced around the suite until one-thirty, by which time she had seen
forty-three more delegates and spoken on the phone to another
fifty-eight.  The second day of the convention was devoted to the major
platform speeches on policy, finance, welfare, defense and the keynote
speech by

Senator Pryor.  Time and time again, delegates would declare that
whichever of the two great candidates was selected, they would go on to
beat the

Republicans in November; but most of the delegates on the floor kept up
a steady hum of conversation, all but oblivious to the men and women on
the platform who might well make up a Democratic cabinet.

Florentyna broke away from the welfare debate to have a drink with two
delegates from Nevada who were still undecided.  She realized their
next stop would probably be Parkin, who would also promise them their
new highway, hospital, university or whatever excuse they came up with
to visit both candidates.  At least tomorrow night they would have to
come out finally in someone's favor.  She told Edward she wanted a
fence put up in the middle of her room, so that wavering delegates had
somewhere to sit when they came to meet her.

Reports flowed in during the day about what Pete Parkin was up to,
which seemed to be much the same as Florentyna except that he was
booked into the Westin Hotel at the Renaissance Center.  As neither of
them could go into the convention arena, their daily routines
continued: delegates, phone calls, press statements, meetings with
party officials and finally bed without much sleep.

On Thursday, Florentyna was dressed by six o'clock in the morning and
was driven quickly to the convention hall.  Once they had arrived at
the Joe

Louis Arena, she was shown the passage she would walk down to deliver
her acceptance speech if she were the chosen candidate.  She walked out
onto the platform and stood in front of the banked microphones, staring
out at the twenty-one thousand empty seats.  The tall, thin placards
that rose from the floor high into the air proudly proclaimed the name
of every state from Alabama to Wyoming.  She made a special note of
where the

Illinois delegation would be seated so that she could wave to them the
moment she entered the hall.

An enterprising photographer who had slept under a seat in the
convention hall all night began taking photographs of her before he was
smartly ushered out of the hall by the Secret Service.  Florentyna
smiled as she looked toward the ceiling where twenty thousand red,
white and blue balloons waited to cascade down on the victor.  She had
read somewhere that it had taken fifty college students, using bicycle
pumps, one week to fill them with air.

"Okay for testing, Senator Kane?"  said an impersonal voice from she
could not tell where.

"My fellow Americans, this is the greatest moment in-my life and I
intend to-2'

"That's fine, Senator.  Loud and clear," said the chief electrician as
he walked up through the empty seats.  Pete Parkin was scheduled to go
through the same routine at seven o'clock.

Florentyna was driven back to her hotel, where she had breakfast with
her closest staff, who were all nervous and laughed at each other's
jokes, however feeble, but fell silent whenever she spoke.  They
watched Pete

Parkin doing his usual morning jog for the television crews; it made
them all hysterical when someone in an NBC windbreaker holding a
mini-camera accelerated past a breathless Vice President three times to
get a better picture.

The roll call vote was due to start at nine that evening.  Edward had
set up fifty phone lines direct to every state chairman on the
convention floor so that he, could be in constant touch if something
unexpected happened.  Florentyna was seated behind a desk with only two
phones, but at the single touch of a button she had access to any of
the fifty lines.

While the hall was beginning to fill they tested each line and Edward
pronounced that they were ready for anything, that now all they could
do was use every minute left to contact more delegates.  By five-thirty
that evening,

Florentyna had spoken by phone or in person to 392 of them in four
days.

By seven o'clock the Joe Louis Arena was almost packed, although there
was still a full hour to go until the names were placed in
nomination.

No one who had traveled to Detroit wanted to miss one minute of the
unfolding drama.

At seven-thirty Flornentyna watched the party officals begin to take
their seats on the stage and she remembered her days as a page at the
Chicago convention when she had first met John Kennedy.  She knew then
that they had all been told to arrive at cerl ain times; the later you
were asked, the more senior you were.  Forty years had passed, and she
was hoping to be asked last.

The biggest cheer of the evening was reserved for Senator Bill Bradley,
who had already announced he would address the convention if there was
a deadlock after the first ballot.  At seven forty-five, the Speaker of
the House of Representatives, Marty Lynch, rose and tried to bring the
convention to order, but he could scarcely make himself heard above the
klaxons, whistles, drums, bugles and cries of "Kane" and "Parkin" from
supporters trying to outscream one another.  Florentyna sat watching
the scene but showed no sign of emotion.  When finally there was a
semblance of order, the chairman introduced Mrs.  Bess Gardner, who had
been chosen to record the votes, although everyone in the hall knew
that the results would flash up onto the vast vi deA screen above her
head before she even had a chance to confirm them.

At eight o'clock the chairman brought his gavel down; some saw the
little wooden hammer hit the base, but no one heard it.  For another
twenty minutes the noise continued as the chairman still made no
impression on the delegates.  Eventually at eight twenty-three Marty
Lynch could be heard asking Rich Daley, the mayor of Chicago, to place
the name of

Senator Kane in nomination; ten more minutes of noise before the mayor
was able to deliver his eulogy.  Florentyna and her staff sat in
silence through a speech that described her public record in the most
glowing terms.  She also listened attentively when Senator Ralph Brooks
nominated

Pete Parkin.  The reception of both proposals by the delegates would
have made a full symphony orchestra sound like a tin whistle.
Nominations for

Bill Bradley and the usual handful of predictable favorite sons
followed in quick succession.

At nine o'clock, the chairman looked down into the body of the hall and
called upon Alabama to cast its vote.  Florentyna sat staring at the
screen like a prisoner about to face trial by jury-wanting to know the
verdict even before she had heard the evidence.  The perspiring
chairman of the Alabama delegation picked up his microphone and
shouted, "The great state of Alabama, the heart of the South, casts 28
votes for Vice

President Parkin and 17 votes for Senator Kane."  Although everyone had
known how Alabama was going to vote since March 11, over four months
before, this didn't stop Parkin posters from being waved frantically,
and it was another twelve minutes before the chairman was able to call
on

Alaska.

"Ala,4ka, the forty-ninth state to join the Union, casts 7 of its votes
for Senator Kane, the forty-second President of the United States, 3
for

Pete Parkin and one for Senator Bradley."  It was the turn of
Florentyna's followers to unloose a prolonged uproar in support of
their candidate, but Parkin led the field for the first half hour until
California declared 214 for Senator Kane, 92 for Parkin.

"God bless Bella," said Florentyna, but had to watch the Vice President
go back into the lead with the help of Florida, Georgia and Idaho. When
they reached the state of Illinois the convention nearly came to a
halt.

Mrs.  Kalamich, who had welcomed Florentyna that first night in Chicago
nearly twenty years before, had been chosen as vice-chairman of the

Illinois Democratic Party in the convention year to deliver the verdict
of her delegates.

"Mr.  Cha)man, this is the greatest moment of my life'~-Florentyna
smiled as Mrs.  Kalamich continued-"to say to you that the great state
of

Illinois is proud to cast every one of its 179 votes for its favorite
daughter and the first woman President of the United States, Senator

Florentyna Kane."  The Kane supporters went berserk as she took the
lead for the second time, but Florentyna knew her rival would create
the same effect when the moment came for Texas to declare its
allegiance, and in fact Parkin went ahead for a second time with 1,440
delegates to

Florentyna's 1,371 after his home state had given its verdict.  Bill

Bradley had picked up 97 delegates along the way and now looked certain
to gather enough votes to preclude an outright winner on the first
round.

As the chair nan pressed forward with each state-Utah, Vermont,

Virginia-the network computers were already flashing up on the screen
that there would be no winner on the first ballot, but it was ten
forty-seven before Tom Brokaw pronounced the first round verdict: 1,522
for Senator Kane, 1,480 for Vice President Parkin, 189 for Senator

Bradley and 140 for favorite sons.

The chairman told the delegates that Senator Bradley would now addresi
them.  Another eleven minutes passed before he could speak. Florentyna
had talked to him on the phone every day of the convention and
steadfastly avoided asking him to join her ticket as Vice President,
because she felt such an offer would smack of bribery rather than a
conscientious choice of him because she felt he was the right man to
succeed her.  Although Ralph Brooks was the favorite for the post in
the

Parkin camp, Florentyna couldn't help wondering if Pete Parkin had
already offered Bradley the chance to join him.

At last the senior senator from New Jersey was able to address the
convention.  "My fellow members of the Democratic Party," he began.  I
thank you for the support you have given me during this election year,
but the time has come for me to withdraw from this Presidential race
and release my delegates to vote the way their conscience guides them."
The hall fell almost silent.  Bradley spoke for several minutes about
the sort of person he wanted to see in the White House but did not
openly support either candidate.  He closed with the words: I pray you
will select the right person to lead our country" and was cheered for
several minutes after he had returned to his seat.

By this time, most people in Suite 2400 of the Baron had no nails left~
only Florentyna remained outwardly calm, although Edward noticed that
her fist was clenched.  He quickly returned to work on the green
section of his master printout, which showed only the Bradley
delegates, but there wasn't much he could do while they were all on the
floor except phone the chairman of each state committee and keep them
working.  The phones came ringing back; it seemed that the Bradley
delegates were also split down the middle.  Some of them would even
continue to vote for Bradley in the second round in case the convention
became deadlocked and had to turn to him in the end.

I The second roll call vote started at eleven twenty-one with
Alabama,

Alaska and Arizona showing no changes.  The balloting dragged on from
state to state until the Wyoming decision wits recorded at twelve
twenty-three.  At the end of the second round, the convention was still
undecided, with the only important change being that

Pete Parkin had taken a slight lead1,629 to 1,604-while 98 delegates
had remained uncommitted or faithful to Senator Bradley.

At twelve thirty-seven the chairman said, "Enough is enough.  We'll
start the roll call again tomorrow evening at seven o'clock."

"Why not first thing tomorrow morning?"  asked one of Florentyna's
sleepless young aides as he was leaving the arena.

"As the Boss pointed out," said Janet, "elections are now run for the
benefit of the networks, and tomorrow morning just isn't prime time."

"Are the networks going to be responsible for which candidate we
choose?"  the aide asked.

They both laughed.  The sleepless aide repeated the same comment
twenty-four hours later-when neither of them laughed.

The exhausted delegates slumped off to their rooms, aware that on a
third ballot most states freed their delegates from their original pled
res which meant that they could now vote any way they pleased. Edward
and his team didn't know where to start, but they picked up the
printouts and went through each delegate from~ Alabama to Wyoming for a
third time that night, hoping they would have a plan for every state by
eight o'clock the next morning.

Florentyna hardly slept that night, and at ten past six she walked back
into the living room of her suite in a robe to find Edward still poring
over the lists.  111 need you at eight," he said, not looking up at
her.

"Good morning," she said, and kissed him on the forehead.

"Good morning."

Florentyna stretched and yawned.  "What happens at eight?"

"We speak to thirty Bradley and undeclared delegates an hour all
through the day.  I want you to have spoken to at least two hundred and
fifty by five this afternoon.  We'll have all six phones manned every
minute of that time so that there will never be less than two people
waiting to speak to you."

"Won't eight be a little early?"  asked Florentyna.

"No," said Edward.  "Because of the time zone difference, the East
Coast delegates will wake early as usual and I won't bother the West
Coast delegates until after lunch."

Florentyna returned to her room realizing yet again how much thought
Edward had put into her whole campaign and she remembered

Richard saying how lucky she was to have two men who adored her.

At eight o'clock, she started work with a large glass of -orange juice
by her side.  As the morning proceeded, the team became more convinced
that the first roll call that evening would give the majority to their
candidate.  The feeling in that room was turning to one of victory.  At
ten-forty Bill Bradley rang to say that if his delegates caused a
deadlock again he was going to recommend that they vote for
Florentyna.

At eleven I twenty-seven Edward passed Florentyna the phone again. 
This time it wasn't a well-wisher.

"It's Pete Parkin here.  I think we ought to get together.  Can I come
and ,ee you immediately?"

Florentyna wanted to say "I'm far too busy" but only said "Yes.

"I'll be right over."

"Whatever can he want?"  said Edward as Florentyna handed him back the
phone.

"I have no idea, but we don't have long before we find out.  "

Pete Parkin arrived via the freight elevator with two Secret Service
agents and his campaign manager.

After unnatural pleasantries had been exchanged-the two candidates
hadn't spoken to each other for the past six month sand coffee poured,
the contenders were left alone.  They sat in comfortable chairs facing
each other.  They might as well have been discussing the weather, not
which one of them should rule the Western world.  The Texan got
straight down to business.

"I am prepared to make a deal with you, Florentyna."

"I'm listening."

"If you withdraw I'll offer you the Vice Presidency."

"You must be-"

"Hear me out, Florentyna," said Parkin, putting up his massive hand
like a traffic cop.  "If you accept my offer, I'll only serve one term
if elected and then I'll support you for the job in 1996 with full
White

House backing.  You're five years younger than I am and there is no
reason why you shouldn't complete two full terms."

Over the previous thirty minutes Florentyna had thought of many reason
i why her rival might want to see her, but she had not been prepared
for this.

"If you don't accept my offer and I win tonight, I'll be giving the
number two spot to Ralph Brooks, who has already confirmed that he is
willing to run."

"I'll call you by two this afternoon" was all that Florentyna said.

Once Pete Parkin had left with his aide, Florentyna discussed the offer
with Edward and Janet, who both felt that they had come too far to give
in now.  "Who knows what the situation might be in four years' time?"

Edward pointed out.  "You might be like Humphrey trying to recover
from

Johnson; and in any case, we only need a deadlock at this time and

Bradley's delegates will push us comfortably over the top on the fourth
ballot."

"I wonder if Parkin knows that," said Janet.

Florentyna sat motionless listening to her different advisors and then
asked to be let!  alone.

Florentyna phoned Pete Parkin at one forty-three and politely declined
his offer.  explaining she was confident that she was going to win on
the first ballot that night.  He made no reply.

By two o'clock the press had got hold of the news of the secret
meeting, and the phones in Suite 2400 never stopped as they tried to
find out what had happened.  Edward kept Florentyna concentrating on
the delegates and with each call she was becoming more and more assured
that Pete Parkin's move had been made more out of desperation than
confidence.  "He's played his final card," said Janet, smirking.

At six o'clock everyone in Suite 2400 was back in front of the
television: there were no longer any delegates left to speak to; they
were all on the convention floor.  Edward still had his phone bank
linked up to all the state chairmen, and the early reports back from
them indicated that the feeling they had picked up votes all through
the day was accurate.

Exactly at the point when Florentyna relaxed and felt confident for the
first time, the bombshell fell.  Edward had just handed her yet
another

Perrier water when CBS flashed up on the screen "Newsbreak" and a
camera went over to Dan Rather, who told a stunned audience only
fifteen minutes before the roll call was due to start that he was about
to interview Vice

President Parkin on the reason for his secret meeting with Senator
Kane.

The CBS camera panned down on the florid face of the big Texan and to

Florentyna's horror the whole thing was going out live on the vast
screen in the convention hall.  She remembered that the Rules Committee
had decided to allow anything to go up on the screen that might affect
the delegates; this was meant to stop rumors spreading around the
convention hall about what was really going on outside, to be sure that
what had happened between Ford and Reagan in 1980 over the picking of a
running mate could never happen again.  It was the first time that the
delegates in the hall had been unanimously silent.

The camera switched back to the CBS anchorman.

"Mr.  Vice President, we know you had a meeting with Senator Kane
today.

Can you tell me the reason you asked to see her?"

"Certainly, Dan, it was first and foremost because I'm interested in
the unity of my party and above all in beating the Republicans.  "

Florentyna and her staff were mesmerized.  She could see the delegates
on the floor hanging on every word and she was helpless to do anything
except listen.  "Van I ask what took place at that meeting?"

"I asked Senator Kane if she would be willing to serve as my Vice

President and make up a Democratic team that would be unbeatable."

"How did she reply to your suggestion?"

"She said she wanted to think the offer over.  You see, Dan, I believe
together we can lick the Republicans."

"Ask him what my final answer was," said Florentyna, but it was no use;
the cameras were already switching to a half crazed convention hall
ready for the first vote.  Edward phoned CBS and demanded equal time
for

Florentyna.  Dan Rather agreed to interview Senator Kane immediately,
but

Florentyna knew that they were already too late.  Once the voting had
started the committee had agreed that nothing would go on that screen
except the ballot tally.  No doubt they would have to revise the rule
by the next convention, but all Florentyna could think of was Miss

Tredgold's views on television: "Too many instant decisions will be
made that will later be regretted."

The chairman banged his gavel and called upon Alabama to begin the roll
call and the Camellia State showed a two-vote switch to Parkin.  When

Flornentyna lost one delegate from Alaska and two from Arizona she knew
her only hope was another deadlock so that she could put her version of
the meeting with Parkin on television before the next vote.  She sat
and watched herself lose one vote here and a couple there but when
Illinois held firm she hoped the tide might turn.  Edward and the team
had been working the phones nonstop.

Then the next blow came.

Edward received a call from one of his campaign managers on the floor
to say that Parkin staffers had started a rumor in the hall that
Florentyna had accepted his offer.  A rumor he knew Florentyna would
never be able to trace back directly to Parkin or have time to rebut.
Although as each state's turn came to vote, Edward fought to stem the
tide.  When they reached West Virginia, Parkin needed only twenty-five
more delegates to go over the top.  They gave him twenty-one, so he
needed four from the penultimate state, Wisconsin.  Flornentyna was
confident that all three delegates from Wyoming, the final state to
vote, would remain loyal to her.

"The great it ate of Wisconsin, mindful of its responsibility
tonight"-once again the hall was totally silent----"and believing in
the unity of the party above all personal considerations, gives all its
eleven votes to the next President of the United States, Pete
PHrkin."

The delegates went berserk.  In Suite 2400 the result was met with
stunned silence.

Florentyna had been beaten by a cheap but brilliant trick.  And its
true genius was that if she denied everything and gave her version
of'

Parkin's behavior, the Democrats might well lose the White House to
the

Republicans and she would be made the scapegoat.

Thirty mi mites later Pete Parkin arrived at Joe Louis Arena amid
cheers and the strains of "Happy Days Are Here Again."  He spent
another twelve minutes waving to the delegates and when at last he
managed to bring the hall to silence he said: "I hope to stand on this
platform tomorrow' night with the greatest lady in America and place
before the nation a team that will whip the Republicans so that those
elephants will never forget it."

Once again the delegates roared their approval.  During the next hour

Flornentyna's staff crept back to their rooms until just Edward was left
alone with her.

"Do I accept?"

"You have no choice.  If you don't, and the Democrats lose, the blame
will be placed at your door."

"And if I tell the truth?"

"It will be misunderstood; they will say you're a bad loser after your
opponent had held out the olive branch of reconciliation.  And don't
forget, President Ford predicted ten years ago that the first woman

President would have to have been the Vice President before the
American people would find the idea acceptable."

"That might be true, but if Richard Nixon were here today," said

Florentyna bitterly, "he would be on the phone to Pete Parkin
congratulating him on a trick far superior to any he pulled off
against

Muskie or Humphrey."  Florentyna yawned.  "I'm going to bed, Edward.  I
will have made a decision by the morning."

At eight-thirty Pete Parkin sent an emissary to ask if Florentyna had
made up her mind.  She replied that she wanted to see him again in
private.

This time, Parkin arrived with three television companies in tow and as
many reporters who could get hold of red press passes.  When they were
alone, Florentyna found it hard to control her temper even though she
had decided not to remonstrate with Parkin but simply asked if he would
confirm that he intended to serve one term."

"Yes," he said, looking Florentyna straight in the eye.

"And at the next election you'll give me your full backing?"

"You have my word on that," he said.

"On those terms I'm willing to serve as Vice President."

When he had left the room, Edward listened to what had taken place and
said, "We know exactly what his word is worth.  "

As she entered the convention hall later that night, Florentyna was
greeted by a cascade of noise.  Pete Parkin held her hand up high and
the delegates once more roared their approval.  Only Ralph Brooks
looked sour.

Florentyna felt her acceptance speech as Vice Presidential candidate
was below her best, but they cheered her just the same.  However, the
biggest cheer of the evening was raised for Pete Parkin when he
addressed the delegates; he had been introduced as their new hero, the
man who had brought honest unity to the party.

Florentyna flew to Boston and retreated to Cape Cod the next morning
after a nauseating press conference with the Democratic Presidential
candidate, who kept referring to her as "that great little lady from

Illinois."

When they parted, in full view of the press, he kissed her on the
cheek.

She felt like a prostitute who had accepted his money and found it was
too late to change her mind about going, to bol.

TAKING ADVANTAGE OF THE FACT that the campaign did not start until
after

Labor Day, Florentyna returned to Washington to catch up on her
neglected senatorial duties.  She even found time to visit Chicago.

She spoke to Pete Parkin on the p hone every day and certainly he could
not have been more friendly and cooperative about fitting in with her
arrangements.  They agreed to meet at his White House office to discuss
the final plan for the campaign.  Florentyna tried to fulfill all her
other commitments before the meeting so she could devote herself
entirely to electioneering during the last nine weeks.

On September 2, accompanied by Edward and Janet, Florentyna arrived at
the west wing of the White House to be greeted by Ralph Brooks, who
clearly remained a trusted lieutenant of the candidate.  She was
determined not to be the cause of any friction between herself and
Brooks so near the election, especially be(ause she knew that Brooks
had expected to be the Vice Presidential candidate himself.  Senator
Brooks took them from the reception area through to Pete Parkin's
office.  It was the first time Fiorentyna had seen the room she might
occupy in a few weeks and she was surprised by the warmth, with its
yellow walls and ivory molding.  Fresh flowers sat on Parkin's mahogany
desk, and the walls were hung with Remington oil paintings.  Parkin's
love of the West,

Florentyna thought.  The late summer sun flooded in through the
southfacing windows.

Pete Parkin jumped up from behind his desk and came over to greet her,
just a little too effusively.  Then they all sat around a table in the
center of the room.

"I think you all know Ralph," said Pete Parkin with a slightly
uncomfortable laugh.  "He's worked out a campaign strategy which I am
SUre you'll find most impressive."

Ralph Brooks unfolded a large map of the United States on the table in
front of them.  "I feel the main consideration to keep uppermost in our
minds is that to capture the White House 381

we must have two hundred and seventy electoral college votes.  Although
it is obviously important and satisfying to win the popular vote, as we
all know it's still the electoral college which selects the next
President.

For this reason, I have colored the states black that I feel we have
least chance of winning, and white those that are traditionally safe in
the

Democrat column.  That leaves the key swing states, which I've marked
in red, which between them make up one hundred and seventy one elect
ont college votes.

"I believe both Pete and Florentyna should visit all the red states at
least once, but Pete should concentrate his energies in the South
while

Florentyna spends most of her time in the North.  Only California, with
its massive forty-five electoral votes, will have to be visited by both
of you regularly.  During the sixty-two days left before the election,
we must use every spare minute on states where we have a genuine chance
and make only token visits to those fringe areas we captured in the
1964 landslide.  As for our own white states, we must be prepared to
visit them all once so that we cannot be accused of taking them for
granted.  I consider Ohio a no-hoper as it's Russell Warner's home
state, but we mustn't let the Republicans assume Florida is theirs just
because

Warner's running mate was once the state's senior senator.  Now, I've
also worked out a daily routine for you both, starting next Monday," he
continued, handing the candidate and Florentyna separate sheaves of
paper, "and I think you should be in contact with each other at least
twice a day, at eight o'clock in the morning and eleven o'clock at
night, always Central Time."

Florentya found herself impressed by the work Ralph Brooks had put in
before the briefing and could appreciate why Parkin had become so
reliant on him.  For the next hour Brooks answered queries- that arose
from his plan and agreement was reached on their basic strategy for the
campaign.

At twelve thirty the Vice President and Florentyna walked on to the
north portico of the White House to speak to the press.  Ralph Brooks
seemed to have statistics for everything: The press, he warned them,
was divided like everyone else.  One hundred and fifty papers with
twenty-two million readers were already supporting the Democrats, while
one hundred and forty-two with twenty one point seven million readers
were backing the

Republicans.  If they needed to know, he added, he could supply the
relevant facts for any paper in the country.

Florentyna looked out across the lawn at Lafayette Square, dotted with
lunchtime strollers and picnickers.  If elected, she would rarely again
be able to visit Washington's parks and memorials.  Not unaccompanied,
anyway.  Parkin escorted her back to the Vice President's office when
the press had asked all the usual questions and received the usual
answers.

When they returned to the office they found that Parkin's Filipino
stewards had set up lunch on the conference table.  Florentyna came
away from the meeting feeling a lot better about how matters were
working out, especially since the Vice President had twice in the
hearing of Brooks referred to their earlier agreement concerning 1996.
Still Florentyna thought it would be a long time before she could
totally trust Parkin.

On September 7 she, flew into Chicago to start her part of the election
campaign but found that even though the press was still hard put to
keep up with the daily routine she put herself through, she lacked the
drive that had been a trademark of her earlier campaigning.

The Brooks plan ran smoothly for the first few days as Florentyna
traveled through Illinois, Massachusetts and New Hampshire.  She met
with no surprises until she arrived in New York, where the press was
waiting in large numbers at the Albany airport.  They wanted to know
her views about Pete Parkin's treatment of Chicanos.  Florentyna
confessed that she didn't know what they were talking about, so they
told her that the candid att had said that he had never had any trouble
with Chicanos on his ranch; they were like his own children.  Civil
rights leaders were up in arms all over the country and all Florentyna
could think of to say was,

"I am sure he has been misunderstood or else his words have been
takenoutof context."

Russell Warner, the Republican candidate, said there could be no
misunderstanding.  Pete Parkin was simply a racist.  Florentyna kept
repudiating these statements although she suspected they were rooted in
truth.  Both Florentyna and Pete Parkin had to break off from their
scheduled plans to fly to Alabama and attend the funeral of Ralph

Abernathy.  Ralph Brooks described the death to an aide as timely.
When

Florentyna heard what he had said she nearly swore at him in front of
the press.

Florentyna continued her travels through Pennsylvania, West Virginia
and

Virginia, before going on to California, where she was joined by
Edward.

Bella and Claude took them out to a restaurant in Chinatown.  The
manager gave them a corner alcove where no one could see them or, more
importantly, hear them, but the relaxed break only lasted for a few
hours before Florentyna had to fly on to Los

Angeles.

The press was becoming bored with the petty squabbles between Parkin
and

Warner over everything except real issues, and when the two candidates
appeared together on a television debate in Pittsburgh, the universal
opinion was that they both lost and that the only person of
Presidential stature in the whole campaign was turning out to be
Senator Kane.  Many journalists expressed the view that it was a
tragedy that Senator Kane had ever let it be known she was willing to
be Pete Parkin's running mate.

"I'll write what really happened in my memoirs," she told Edward. "Only
by then who will care?"

"In truth, no one," replied Edward.  "How many Americans could tell you
the name of Harry Truman's Vice President?"

The next day, Pete Parkin flew into Los Angeles to join Florentyna for
one of their few joint appearances.  She met him at the airport.  He
walked off Air Force II holding up Missouri's Unterrified Democrat, the
only paper that had run as its headline "Parkin Wins Debate":
Florentyna had to admire the way he could make a rhinoceros look
thin-skinned.

California was to be the last stop before they returned to their own
states and they held a final rally in the Rose Bowl.  Parkin and

Florentyna were surrounded by stars, half of whom were on stage for the
free publicity they were guaranteed whichever candidate was in town.

Along with Dustin Hoffman, Al Pacino and Jane Fonda, Florentyna spent
most of her time signing autographs.  She didn't know what to say to
the girl who, puzzled by her signature, asked: "Which was your last
movie?"

The following morning, Florentyna flew back to Chicago while Pete
Parkin left for Texas.  As soon as Florentyna's 707 touched down in the
Windy

City, she was greeted by a crowd of over thirty thousand people, the
biggest any candidate had had on the campaign trail.

On the morning of the election she voted at the elementary school in
the

Ninth District, in the presence of the usual group of reporters from
the networks and the press.  She smiled for them, knowing she would be
forgotten news within a week if the Democrats lost.  She spent the day
going from committee room to polling places to television studio, and
ended up back at her suite in the Chicago Baron a few minutes after the
polls had closed.

Florentyna indulged herself with her first really long hot bath in over
five months and a change of clothes that was not affected by whom she
was spending the evening with.  Then she was joined by William,
Joanna,

Annabel and Richard, who, at the age of seven, was being allowed to
watch his first election.  Edward arrived just after ten-thirty and for
the first time in his life saw Florentyna with her shoes off and her
feet propped up on a table.

"Miss Tredgold wouldn't have approved."

"Miss Tredgold never had to do seven months of campaigning without a
break," she replied.

In a room full of food, drink, family and friends, Florentyna watched
the results come in from the East Coast.  It was obvious from the
moment that

New Hampshire went to the Democrats and Massachusetts to the
Republicans that they were all in for a long night.  Florentyna was
delighted that the weather had been dry riFht across the nation that
day.  She had never forgotten Theodore H. White telling her that
America always voted Republican until 5 P.m. on Election Day.  From
that time on, working men and women on their way home decide whether to
stop at the polls; if they do and ontv if they do, the country will go
Democratic.  It looked as though a lot of them had stopped by, but she
wondered if it would turn out to be enough.  By midnight, the Democrats
had taken Illinois and Texas but lost

Ohio and Pennsylvania and when the voting machines closed down in

California, three hours after New York, America still hadn't elected
a

President.  The private polls conducted outside the voting places
proved only that the nation's largest state wasn't wild about either
candidate.

At the George Novak Suite in the Chicago Baron, some ate, some drank,
some slept.  But Florentyna remained wide awake throughout the whole
proceedings and at two thirty-three, CBS announced the result she had
been waiting for: California had been won by the Democrats, the returns
showing 50.2 to 49.8, a margin of a mere 332,000 votes, giving the
election to Parkin.  Florentyna picked up the phone by her side.

"Are you calling the President-elect to congratulate him?"  asked
Edward.

"No," said Florentyna.  "I'm calling Bella to thank her for putting him
there."

Florentyna spent the next few days in Cape Cod having a total rest,
only to find she kept waking at six each morning with nothing to do
except wait for the morning papers.  She was delighted when Edward
joined her on

Wednesday but couldn't get used to his affectionately addressing her
as"~.P."

Pete Parkin had already called a press conference at his Texas ranch to
say he would not be naming his cabinet until the New Year.  Florentyna
returned to Washington on November 14, for the lame duck session of

Congress, and prepared for her move from the Russell Building to the

White House.  Although her time was fully occupied in the Senate and

Illinois, it came as a surprise to her that she spoke to the
Presidentelect only two or three times a week and then on the phone.
Congress ackjourned two weeks after Thanksgiving, and Florentyna
returned to Cape

Cod for a family Christmas with a grandson who kept calling her
Grannie

President.

"Not yet," she told him.

On January 9 the President-elect arrived in Washington and held a press
conference to announce his cabinet.  Although Florentyna had not been
consulted on his appointments, no one was expecting any real
surprises:

Charles Lee was made Secretary of Defense and would have been
everyone's choice.  Paul Rowe retained his position as director of the
CIA.  Pierre

Levale became attorney general, and Michael Brewer, national security
advisor.  Florentyna didn't raise an eyebrow until Parkin came to his
choice for Secretary of State.  She sat in disbelief when the President
declared:

"Chicago can rightly be proud of having produced the Vice President as
well as the Secretary of State."

By Inauguration Day, Florentyna's personal belongings in the Baron had
been packed up and were all ready for delivery to the Vice President's
official residence on Observatory Circle.  The huge Victorian house
seemed grotesquely large for a family of one.

For this inauguration, Florentyna's whole family sat in seats one row
behind Pete Parkin's wife and daughters, while Florentyna sat on one
side of the President and Ralph Brooks sat immediately behind him. When
she stepped forward to take the oath of office, her only thought was to
wish that Richard were there by her side to remind her she was getting
closer and closer.  Glancing sideways at Pete Parkin, she concluded
that Richard would still have voted Republican.,

Chief Justice William Rehnquist gave her a warm smile as she repeated
after him the oath of office for the Vice President.  ""I do solemnly
swear that I will support and defend the Constitution of the United
States against all enemies, foreign and domestic .. . "' ""I do
solemnly swear that I will support and defend the Constitution of the
United States against all enemies, foreign and domestic .. ."

Florentyna's words had sounded clear and confident, perhaps because she
had learned the oath by heart.  Annabel winked at her as she returned
to her seat amid deafening applause.

After the Chief Justice administered the Presidential oath to Parkin,

Florentyna listened intently as America's new Chief Executive delivered
his inaugural address.  She had not been consulted about it and she
hadn't even seen its final draft until the night before.  Once again
Parkin referred to her as the greatest little lady in the land.

After the inauguration ceremony was over, Parkin, Brooks and Florentyna
joined congressional leaders for lunch in the Capitol.  Her Senate
colleagues gave Florentyna a warm welcome when she took her place on
the dais.  After lunch they climbed into limousines for the drive
down

Pennsylvania Avenue that would lead the inaugural parade.  Sitting in
the enclosed viewing stand in front of the White House, Florentyna.
watched floats, marching bands and assorted governors roll by,
representing every one of the fifty states.  She stood and applauded
when the farmers of

Illinois saluted her, and later after making a token visit to every one
of the inaugural balls, she spent her first night in the Vice
President's house and realized the closer she got to the top, the more
alone she became.

The next morning, the President held his first cabinet meeting.  This
time

Ralph Brooks sat on his right-hand side.  The group, visibly tired from
the seven inaugural balls the night before, assembled in the Cabinet

Room.  Florentyna sat at the far end of the long oval table, surrounded
by men with whose views she had rarely been in accord in the past,
aware that she was going to have to spend four years battling against
them before she could hope to form her own cabinet.  She wondered how
many of them knew about her deal with Parkin.

As soon as Florentyna had settled into her wing of the White House, she
appointed Janet Brown as head of her personal office.  Many of the
positions left vacant by Parkin's staff she also filled with her old
team from the campaign and Senate days.

Of the remaining staff she inherited, she quickly learned how valuable
their skills and special qualifications would have been had they not
disappeared one by one as the President offered them executive jobs.

Within three months, Parkin had denuded her office of all the most
competent staff, taking first the middle-ranking campaign operatives
and then some of the inner circle ol'advisors.

Florentyna tried not to show her anger when the President offered
Janet

Brown the position of Under Secretary of the Department of Health and

Human Services.

Janet didn't hesitate over the new opportunity: and in a handwri'en
letter to the President she accepted the great compliment he had paid
her but explained in detail why she felt unable to consider any
government position other than to serve the Vice President.

"If you can wait four years, so can I," she explained.

Florentyna had often read that the life of the Vice President was, to
quote John Nance Garner, "not worth a pitcher of warm spit," but even
she was surprised to find how little real work she had to do compared
with her days in Congress.  She had received more letters when she had
been a

Senator.  Everyone seemed to write to the President or the state
representatives.  Even the people had worked out that the Vice
President had no power.  Florentyna enjoyed presiding over the Senate
for important debates, because it kept her in contact with colleagues
who would be helping her again in four years' time, and they made sure
she was aware of what was being said covertly in the halls of Congress,
as well as on the House and Senate floor.  Many senators used her to
get messages through to the President, but as time went by she began to
wonder whom she should use for the same purpose, as the days turned
into weeks in which Pete Parkin did not bother to consult her on any
major issue.

During her first year as Vice President, Florentyna made goodwill tours
to Brazil and Japan, attended the funerals of Willy Brandt in Berlin
and

Edward Heath in London, carried out on-site inspections of three
natural disasters and chaired so many special task forces that she felt
qualified to publish her own guide to how the government works.

The first year went slowly, the second even more so.  The only
highlight was representing the government at the crowning of King
Charles III in Westminister Abbey after Queen Elizabeth 11's abdication
in 1994.  Florentyna stayed with Ambassador John Sawyer at

Winfield House, conscious of how similar their respect~ ve roles were
in the matter of form over substance.  She seemed to spend hours
chatting about how the world was run and what the President was doing
on matters such as the building up of Russian troops on the Pakistan
border.  She gained most of her information from the Washington Post
and envied Ralph

Brooks's real involvement as Secretary of State.  Although she kept
herself well informed on what was going on in the world at large, for
only the second time in her life she was bored.  She longed for 1996,
fearing her years as Vice President would yield very few positive
results.

Once Ah Force H had landed back at Andrews, Florentyna returned to tier
work and spent the rest of the week checking through the State and CIA
traffic that had piled up in her absence abroad.  She rested over the
weekend even though CBS informed tho public that the dollar had
suffered as a result of the international crisis.  The Russians were
massing more forces on the Paki'tan border, a fact that the President
had dismissed in his weekly press conference as "not of great
importance."  The

Russians, he assured the assembled journalists, were not interested in
crossing any borders into countries that had treaties with the United

States.

During the following week the panic seemed to subside and the dollar
recovered.  "It's a cosmetic recovery," Florentyna pointed out to
Janet, "caused by the Russians.  The international brokers are
reporting that the

Bank of Moscow is selling gold, which was exactly what they did before
invading Afghanistan.  I do wish bankers would not treat history on a
week-to-week basis."

Although several politicians and journalists contacted Florentyna to
express their fears, she could only placate them as she watched
proceedings from the wings.  She even considered making an appointment
to see the President, but by Friday evening most Americans were on
their way home for a peaceful weekend convinced the immediate danger
had passed.

Florentyna remained in her office in the west wing that Friday evening
and read through the cables from ambassadors and agents on the Indian
subcontinent.  The more she read, the more she felt unable to share
the

President's relaxed stance.  As there was very little ~;he could do
about it, she neatly stacked tip the papers, put them into a special
red folder and prepared to go home.  She checked her watch.  6:32.
Edward had flown down from New York and would be joining her for dinner
at 7:30.  She was laughing about the thought of filing her own papers
when Janet rushed into the office.

"There's an intelligence report that the Russians are mobilizing."

"Where's the President?"  was Florentyna's immediate reaction.

"I've no idea.  I saw him leaving the White House by helicopter about
three hours ago."

Florentyna reopened her file and stared back down at the cables
while

Janet remained standing in front of her desk.

"Well, who will know where he is."

"You can be sure Ralph Brooks does," Janet said.

"Get me the Secretary of State on the line."

Janet left for her own office while Flornentyna checked through the
reports again.  She quickly went over the salient points raised by the
American ambassador in Islamabad before re-reading the assessment of
General

Pierce Dixon, the chairman of the joint chiefs of staff.

The Russians, it was reliably documented now, had ten divisions of
troops on the Afghanistan-Pakistan border and their forces had been
multiplying over the past few days.  It was known that half their
Pacific fleet was sailing toward Karachi, while two battle groups were
carrying out "exercises" in the Indian Ocean.  General Dixon had
directed an increased intelligence watch when it was confirmed that
fifty MIG 25s and SUs had landed at Kabul military airport at six that
evening.  Florentyna checked her watch: 7:09.

"Where is the bloody man?"  she said out loud.  Her phone buzzed.

"The Secretary of State on the line for you," said Janet.  Florentyna
waited for several seconds.

"What can I do for you?"  asked Ralph Brooks, sounding as if Florentyna
had interrupted him.

"Where is the President?"  she asked for a third time.

"At this moment he's on Air Force I, " said Brooks quickly.

"Stop lying, Ralph.  It's transparent, even on the phone.  Now, tell me
where the President is."

"Halfway to California."

"If we have an increased intelligence watch because the Soviets are on
the move, why hasn't he been advised to return?"

"We have advised him, but he had to land to refuel."

"As you well know, Air Force I doesn't need to refuel for that length
of journey."

"He isn't on Air Force 1.

"Why the hell not?"

No reply came.

"I suggest you level with me, Ralph, even if it's only to save your own
skin."

There was a further pause.

"He was on his way to see a friend in California when the crisis
broke."

"I don't believe it," said Florentyna.  "Who does he think he is? The

President of France?"

"I have everything under control," said Brooks, ignoring her comment.

"His plane will touch down at the Colorado airport in a few minutes'
time.  The President will immediately transfer to an air force F15 and
will be back in Washington within two hours."

"What type of aircraft is he on at this moment?"  asked Florentyna.

"A private 737 owned by Marvin Snyder of Blade Oil."

"Can the President enter the secure National Command Network from the
plane?"  asked Florentyna.  No reply was forthcoming.  "Did you hear
what

I said?"  she rapped out.

"Yes," said Ralph.  "The truth is that the plane doesn't have complete
security.  We have the same problem George Bush had when he had no
choice but to return to Washington in a private plane at the time
Reagan was shot."

"Are you telling me that over the next two hours any ham radio operator
could tune in to a conversation between the -President and the chairman
of the joint chiefs of staff?"

"Yes," admitted Ralph.

"I'll see you in the Situation Room," said Florentyna, and slammed down
the phone.  3he came out of her office almost on the run.  Two
surprised Secret

Service officers quickly followed her as she headed down the narrow
staircase past small portraits of former Presidents.  Washington faced
her at the bottom of the stairs before she turned into the wide
corridor that led to the Situation Room.  The security guard already
had the door open that led into the secretarial section.  She passed
through a room of buzzing Telexes and noisy typewriters while yet
another security man opened the oak-paneled door of the Situation Room
for her.  Her Secret

Service men remained outside as she marched in.

Ralph Brooks was seated in the President's chair giving orders to a
bevy of military personnel.  Four of the remaining nine seats were
already occupied-around a table that almost took up the whole room.
Immediately to the right of Brooks sat the Secretary of Defense,
Charles Lee, and on his right the director of the CIA, Paul Rowe.
Opposite them sat the chairman of the joint chiefs of staff, General
Dixon, and the national security adviser, Michael Brewer.  The door at
the end of the room that led into the communications area was wide
open.

Brooks swung around to face her.  Florentyna had never seen him with
his coat off and a shirt button undone.

"No panic," he said.  "I'm on top of everything.  I'm confident the

Rus'ians wvn't make any move before the President returns."

"I don't expect that's what the Russians have in mind," said
Florentyna.

"While the President is unexplainably absent, we must be prep ai ed for
them to make any move that suits them."

"Well, it's not your problem, Florentyna.  The President has left me in
control."

"On the contrary, it is my problem," said Florentyna, firmly refusing
to take a seat.  "in the absence of the President the responsibility
for all military matters passes to me."

"Now listen, Florentvna, I'm running the shop and I don't want you
interfering."  Tite gentle buzz of conversation between personnel
around the room came to an abrupt halt as Brooks stared angrily at
Florentyna.

She picked up the nearest phone.  "Put the attorney general on the
screen."

"Yes, ma'am," said the operator.

A few seconds later Pierre Levale's face appeared on one of the six
tele'isions encased in the oak paneling along the side of the wall.

"Good evening, Pierre, it's Florentyna Kane.  We have an increased
intelligence watch on our hands and for reasons I am not willing to
discuss the President is indisposed.  Will you make it clear to the

Secretary of State who holds executive responsibility in such a
situation?"

Everyone in the room stood still and stared up at the worried face on
the screen.  The lines on Pierre Levale's face had never been more
pronounced.

They all knew he had been a Parkin appointment, but he had shown on
past occasions that he thought more highly of the rule of law than of
the

President.

"The Constitution is not always clear on these matters," he began,
"especially after the Bush-Haig showdown following the attempt on
Ronald

Reagan's life.  But in my judgment, in the President's absence all
power is vested in the Vice President and that is how I would advise
the Senate."

"Thank you, Pierre," said Florentyna, still looking at the screen.
"Please put that in writing and see that a copy is on the President's
desk immediately on completion."  The Attorney General disappeared from
the screen.

"Now that that's settled.  Ralph, brief me quickly."

Brooks reluctantly vacated the President's chair, while a staff officer
opened a small panel below the light switch by the door.  He pressed a
button and the beige curtain that stretched along the wall behind the

President's chair opened.  A large screen came down from the ceiling
with a map of the world on it.

Charles Lee, the Secretary of Defense, rose from his chair as differ en
tcolored lights shone all over the map.  "The lights indicate the
position of all known hostile forces," he said as Florentyna swung
around to face the map.  "The red ones are submarines, the green ones
aircraft and the blue ones full army divisions."

"A West Point plebe looking at the map could tell you exactly what
the

Russians have in mind," said Florentyna as she stared at the mass of
red lights in the Indian Ocean, green lights at Kabul airport and blue
lights stretched along Afghanistan's border with Pakistan.

Paul Rowe then confirmed that the Russians had been massing armies on
the

Pakistan border for several days and within the last hour a coded
message from a CIA agent behind the lines suggested that the Soviets
intended to cross the border of Pakistan at ten o'clock Eastern
Standard Time.  He handed her a set of decoded cables and answered each
of her questions as they arose.

"The President told me," said Brooks pointedly when Florentyna had read
the final message, "that he feels Pakistan is not another Poland and
that the

Russians wouldn't dare go beyond the Afghanistan border."

"I think we arc about to find out if his judgment is sound," she
said.

"The President," he added, "has been in touch with Moscow during the
week, as well as the Prime Minister of England, the President of France
and the

West German Chancellor.  They all seem to agree with his assessment."

"Since then the situation has changed radically," said Florentyna
sharply.

"It's obvious that I'll have to speak to the Russian President
myself."

Once again Brooks hesitated.  "Immediately," Florentyna added.  Brooks
picked up the phone.  Everyone in the room waited while the circuit was
linked.  Florentyna had never spoken to President Andropov before and
she could feel her heart beating.  She knew her phone would be
monitored to pick up the slightest reaction she unwittingly displayed,
as it would be for the Russian leader.  It was always said that it was
this device that had enabled the Russians to run roughshod over Jimmy
Carter.

A few minutes later Andropov came on the line.  "Good evening, Mrs.
Kane," he said, not acknowledging her title, his voice as clear as if
he were in the next room.  After four years at the Court of St.  James
the

President's accent was minimal and his command of the language
impressive.  "May I ask where President Parkin is?"

Florentyna could feel her mouth go dry.  The Russian President
continued before she could reply.

"In California, no doubt."  It didn't surprise Florentyna that the
Russian

President knew mom about Parkin's habits than she did.  It was now
obvious why the Russians had chosen ten o'clock to cross the Pakistan
border.

"You're right," said Florentyna.  "And as he will be indisposed for at
least another two hours you will have to deal with me.  I therefore
wish you to be left in no doubt that I am taking full Presidential
responsibility in his absence."  She could feel small beads of sweat,
but didn't dare to touch her forehead.

"I see," said the former head of the KGB.  "Then may I ask what is the
purpose of this call?"

"Don't be naive, Mr.  President.  I want you to understand that if you
put one member of your armed forces over the border with Pakistan,
America will retaliate immediately."

"That would be very brave of you, Mrs.  Kane," he said.

"You obviously don't understand the American political system, Mr.
n-esident.  It requires no 'bravery' at all.  As Vice President I am
the one person in America who has nothing to lose and everything to
gain."

This time the silence was not of her making.  Florentyna felt her
confidence growing.  He had given her the chance to continue before he
could reply.  "If you do not turn your battle fleet south, withdraw all
ten army divisions from the border with Pakistan and fly your MIG 25s
and

SUs back to Moscow, I shall not hesitate to attack you on land, sea and
in the air.  Do you understand?"

The phone went dead.

Florentyna swiveled around.

By now the room was abuzz again with professionals who had previously
only played "games" in this situation and now waited like Florentyna to
see if all their training, experience and knowledge were about to be
tested.

Ralph Brooks held a hand over the mouthpiece of his phone and reported
that the President had landed in Colorado and wanted to speak to

Florentyna.  She picked up the red security phone by her side.

"Florentyna?  Is that you?"  came from the phone in a broad Texas
accent.

"Yes, Mr.  President."

"Now hear me, lady.  Ralph has briefed me and I am on my way back
immediately.  Don't do anything rash-and be sum the press doesn't get
to hear of my absence."

"Yes, Mr.  President."  The phone went dead.

"General Dixon?"  she said, not, bothering to look at Brooks.

"Yes, ma'am," said the four-star general who had not spoken until
then.

"How quickly can we mobilize a retaliatory force into the battle area?"
she asked the chief of staff.

"Within the hour.  I could have ten squadrons of F111s in the air, Gut
of our bases in Europe and Turkey, but it would take me all of three
days for the Mediterranean fleet to make contact with the Russians." 
"How long would it be before the fleet reached the Indian Ocean?"

"Two or three days, rna' am

"Then issue the order and make it two, General."

"Yes, ma'am," said General Dixon again, and left the Situation Room for
the Operations Room.

Florentyna didn't have to wait long for the next report to come up on
the screen.  It was the one she feared most.  The Russian fleet still
plowed on relentlessly toward Karachi while more and more Soviet
divisions were missing at Salabad and Asadabadon on the Afghanistan
border.

"Get me the President of Pakistan," said Florentyna.

He was on the line in moments.  "Where is President Parkin?"  was his
first question.

"Not you as well?"  Florentyna wanted to say, but in fact replied, "On
his way back from Camp David.  He will be with us shortly."  She
briefed him on the actions she had taken to date and made it clear how
far she was still willing to go.

"Thank God for one brave man," said Murbaze Bhutto.

"Just stay on the open line and we'll keep you briefed if anything
changes," said Florentyna, ignoring the compliment.  "Shall I get the

Russian President back?"  asked Ralph Brooks.

"No," said Florentyna.  "Get me the Prime Minister of Britain, the

President of France and the Chancellor of West Germany."

She checked her watch: 7:35.  Within twenty minutes Florentyna had
spoken to all three leaders.  The British agreed to her plan, the
Germans were skeptical but would cooperate, while the French were
unhelpful.

The next piece of information Florentyna received was that Russian MIG
25s at Kabul military airport were being prepared for takeoff.

Immediately she ordered General Dixon to place all forces on standby.

Brooks leaned forward to protest, but by then all those present had
placed their careers in the hands of one woman.  Many of them watched
her closely and noted she showed no emotion.

General Dixon came back into the Situation Room.  "Ma'am, the F I I Is
are now ready for takeoff, the Sixth Fleet is steaming full speed
toward the

Indian Ocean and a brigade of paratroopers can be dropped at Landi
Kotap on to the border of Pakistan within two hours."

"Good," said Florentyna quietly.  The Telex continued to rap out the
message that the Russians were still advancing on every front.

"Don't you think we should renew contact with the Soviet President
before it's too late?"  asked Brooks.  Florentyna noticed that his
hands were shaking.

"Why should we contact Andropov?  I have nothing to say to him.  If we
turn back now it will always be too late," said Florentyna quietly.

"But we must try to negotiate a compromise, or by this time tomorrow
the

President will look like a jackass," said Brooks, standing over her.

"Why?"  asked Florentyna.

"Because in the end you will have to give in."

Florentyna made no reply but swiveled back in her chair to face
General

Dixon, who was standing by her side.

"In one hour, ma'am, we will be in enemy airspace."

"Understood," said Florentyna.

Ralph Brooks picked up the ringing phone by his side.  General Dixon
returned to the Operations Room.

"The President is preparing to land at Andrews Air Force Base.  He'll
be with us ill twenty minutes," Brooks told Flo rentyna.  "Talk to the
Russians and tell them to back off until he returns.  "

"No," said Florentyna.  "If the Russians don't turn back now you can be
certain they will let the whole world know exactly where the President
was at the moment they crossed the Afghanistan border.  In any case, I
am still convinced they will turn back."

"You've gone mad, Florentyna," he shouted, rising from his chair.

"I don't think I have ever been saner," she retorted.

"Do you imagine the American people will thank you for involving them
in a war over Pakistan?"  asked Brooks.

"It's not Pakistan we're discussing," replied Florentyna.  "India would
be next, followed by Turkey, Greece, Italy, Britain and finally
Canada.

And you, Ralph, would still be looking for excuses to avoid any
confrontation even when the Soviets were marching down Constitution

Avenue."

"If that's your attitude, I wash my hands of the whole affair," said

Brooks.

"And no doubt you will receive the same footnote in history as the last
person who carried out that ignominious act."

"Then I shall tell the President you overruled me and countermanded my
orders," said Brooks, his voice rising with every word.

Flornentyna looked up at the handsome man who was now red in the face

"Ralph, if you're going to wet your pants, can you please do it in the
little boys' room and not the Situation Room.  "

Brooks stormed out.  General Dixon returned.

"Twenty-seven minutes to go and still no sign of the Russians turning
back," whispered the chairman of the joint chiefs.  A message came
through on the Telex that the fifty MIG 25s and SUs were taking off and
would be in Pakistan airspace within thirty-four minutes.

General Dixon was by her side.  "Twenty-three minutes, ma'am.  " '

"How are you feeling, General?"  Florentyna tried to sound relaxed.

"Better than the day I marched into Berlin as a lieutenant, ma'am

Florentyna asked a staff major to check all three networks.  She began
to realize what Kennedy had been through over Cuba.  The major pressed
some buttons in front of him.  CBS was showing a Popeye cartoon, NBC a
basketball game, and

ABC an old Ronald Reagan movie.  She checked through everything on the
little TV screen once again, but there was no change.  Now she could
only pray she would be given enough time to be proved right.  She
sipped at a cup of coffee that had been left at her elbow.  It tasted
cold and bitter.

She pushed it to one side as President Parkin stormed into the room,
followed by Brooks.  The President was wearing an open-necked shirt, a
sports jacket and check trousers.

"What the hell is going on?"  were his first words.  Florentyna had
stepped away from the President's chair and General Dixon came forward
once again.

"Twent~ minutes to go, ma'am."

"Now, brief me quickly, Florentyna," demanded Parkin, taking his place
in the President's chair.  She sat down on the President's right and
told him what she had done up to the moment he walked in.

"You fool," he shouted when she had finished.  "Why didn't you listen
to

Ralph?  He would never have got us into this trouble."

"I am aware of exactly what the Secretary of State would have done
presented with the same set of circumstances," said Florentyna
coldly.

"General Dixon," said the President, turning his back on Florentyna.

"What is the exact position of your forces?"  The general briefed

President Parkin.  Maps continually flashing up on the screen behind
him showed the latest Russian position.

"In sixteen minutes' time the F111 I bombers will be over enemy
territory."

"Get me the President of Pakistan," said Parkin, banging the table it',
front of him.

"He's holding on an open line," said Florentyna quietly.

The President grabbed the phone, hunched his shoulders over the table
and started speaking in a confidential tone.

"I'm sorry it's.worked out this way, but I have no choice but to
reverse the Vice President's decision.  She didn't understand the full
implication of her actions.  Now, I don't want you to feel we're
deserting you.  Be assured we will negotiate a peaceful withdrawal from
your territory at the first possible opportunity," said Parkin.

"For God's sake.  you can't desert us now," said Bhutto.

"I must do what is best for all of us," replied Parkin.

"Like you did in Afghanistan."

Parkin ignored the comment and slammed down the phone.

"General?"

"Yes, sir," said Dixon, stepping forward.

"How much time have I got?"

The general looked up at the small digital clock suspended from the
ceiling in front of him.  "Eleven minutes and eighteen seconds," he
said.

"Now listen and listen carefully.  The Vice President took on too much
responsibility in my absence and I must now find a way out of this mess
without egg landing on all our faces.  I'm sure you agree, General."

"Anything you say, Mr.  President, but in the circumstances I'd stick
with it."

"There are wider considerations that go beyond the military.  So I want
you to-"

A shout went up from the far side of the room from a hitherto unknown
colonel.  For a moment he stopped even the President from speaking.

"What is it?"  shouted Parkin.

The colonel now stood at attention.  "The Russian fleet has turned back
and is now heading south," he said, reading a cable.

The President was speechless.  The unknown colonel continued: "The MIG
25s and SUs are flying northwest to Moscow."  A cheer went up, drowning
out the rest of the colonel's pronouncements.  Telexes buzzed out
confirmation all over the room.

"General," said Parkin, turning to the chairman, "we've won.  It's a
triumphant day for you and America."  He hesitated for a moment before
adding, "And I want you to know that I'm proud to have led my country
through this hour of peril."

No one in the Situation Room laughed and Brooks quickly added,

"Congratulations, Mr.  President."  Everyone started cheering again,
while several personnel walked over to congratulate Florentyna.

"General, bring your boys home.  They*ve carried out a fantastic
operation.  Congratulations -you did a great job."

"Thank you, Mr.  President," said General Dixon.  "But I feel the
praise should go to-"

The President turned to Ralph Brooks and said, "This calls for a
celebration, Ralph.  All of you will remember this day for the rest of
your lives.  The day we showed the world America couldn't be pushed
around."

Florentyna was now standing in the center as if she had had nothing to
do with what had happened in that room.  She left a few minute~, later
because the President continued to ignore her.  She returned to her
office on the second floor and put away the red file and slammed the
cabinet closed.  No wonder Richard had never voted

Democratic.

"A gentleman's been waiting for you since seven thirty, were the first
words the butler said when she returned to her home on Observatory
Circle.

"Good God," said Florentyna out loud and rushed through to the drawing
room where she found Edward, eyes closed, slumped on the sofa in front
of the fire.  She kissed him on the forehead and he woke immediately.

"Ah, my dear, been rescuing the world from a fate worse than death, no
doubt?"

"Something like that," said Florentyna, pacing up and down as she
told

Edward everything that had happened at the White House that evening.
Edward had never seen her so angry.

"Well, I'll say one thing for Pete Parkin," Edward said, when' she had
reached the end of her story.  "He's consistent.

"He won't be after tomorrow."

"What do you mean?"

"Precisely that.  I'm going to hold a press conference in the morning
to let everybody know exactly what happened.  I'm sick and tired of his
devious and irresponsible behavior, and I know that most people who
were in the

Situation Room tonight will confirm everything I've told you."

"That would be both rash and irresponsible , said Edward, staring into
the fire in front of him.

"Why?"  said Florentyna, surprised.

"Because America would be left with a lame duck president.  You might
be the hero of the hour, but within days you would be despised."

"But-" began Florentyna.

"No buts.  On this occasion you'll have to swallow your pride and be
satisfied with using what happened tonight as a weapon to remind Parkin
of his agreement over the one-term Presidency."

"And let him get away with it?"

"And let America get away with it," said Edward firmly.

Florentyna continued pacing and didn't speak for several minutes.
"You're right," she said finally.  "I was being shortsighted.  Thank
you."

"So might I have been if I had experienced what you went through at
first hand."

Florentyna laughed.  "Come on," she said and stopped pac- The Future:
1982-1995 401

ing for the first time.  "Let's have something to eat.  You must be
starving."

"No, no," said Edward, looking at his watch.  "Although I must
confess,

VP."  you're the first girl who's kept me waiting three and a half
hours for a dinner date."

Early the next morning the President phoned her.

"That was a great job you did yesterday, Florentyna, and I appreciate
the way you carried out the earlier part of the operation."

"You hardly showed it at the time, Mr.  President," she said, barely
controlling her anger.

"I intend to address the nation today," said Parkin, ignoring

Florentyna's (comment, "and although this isn't the time to tell them I
shall not be seeking re-election, when the time does come I shall
remember your loyalty."

The President addressed the nation at eight o'clock that night on all
three networks.  Other than a passing mention of Florentyna he left the
distinct impression that he had been in complete control of operations
when the Russians turned back.

One or two national newspapers suggested that the Vice President had
been involved in the negotiations with the Russian leader, but as
Florentyna was not available to confirm this, Parkin's version went
almost unchallenged.

Two days later Florentyna was sent to Paris for the funeral of Giscard
d'13--staing.By the time she returned to Washington the public was
worked up about the final game of the World Series and Parkin was a
national hero.

When the first primary was little more than eighteen months away,

Florentyna told Edward that the time had come to start planning for the
1996 Presidential campaign.  To.  that end, Florentyna accepted
invitations to speak all over America, and during the year she
addressed voters in thirty-three states.  She was delighted to find
that wherever she went the public took it for granted she was going to
be the next President.  Her relationship with Pete Parkin remained
cordial, but she had had to remind the President that the time was
drawing near for him to make the announcement about his intentions to
serve only one term in office, so that she could officially launch her
campaign.

One Monday in July, when she had returned to Washington from a speaking
engagement in Nebraska, she found a note from the President saying that
he would be making those intentions clear in a statement to the nation
that Thursday.  Edward had already started work on a strategic outline
for a 1996 campaign so that as soon as the President had announced that
he would not be running again, the

Kane effort would be ready to move into high gear.

"His timing is perfect, VP.," he said.  "We have fourteen months before
the election campaign and you needn't even declare You're the candidate
before

October."

Florentyna sat alone in the Vice President's office that Thursday
evening waiting for the President to deliver his statement.  The three
networks were carrying his speech and all of them had talked of the
rumor that, at sixty-six, Parkin was not considering a second term.
Florentyna waited impatiently as a camera panned down from the facade
of the White House and into the Oval Office, where President Parkin sat
behind his desk.

"My fellow Americans," he began, "I have always believed in keeping you
informed of my plans as I do not want any speculation about m) personal
future as to whether I shall be running again for this onerous office
in fourteen months' time'Florentyna smiled-1 therefore wish to take
this opportunity to make my intentions clear so that I can complete
this session without involving myself in party politics."  Florentyna
nearly leaped out of her seat in delight as Parkin now leaned forward
in what the press referred to as "his sincere stance" before
continuing.  "The President's job is here in the Oval Office serving
the people and to that end I announce that although I shall be a
candidate for President at the next election, I will leave the
electioneering to my Republican opponents while I continue to work for
your best interests in the White House.  I hope you will allow me the
privilege of serving you for another four years.  God bless you all."

Florentyna was speechless for some moments.  Finally she picked up the
phone by her side and dialed the Oval Office.  A woman's voice
answered.

"I'm on my way to see the President immediately."  Florentyna slammed
down the phone and walked out of her room toward the Oval Office.

The President's private secretary met her at the door.  "The President
is in conference right now, but I expect him to be free at any
moment."

Florentyna paced up and down the corridor for thirty-seven minutes
before she was finally shown in.

"Pete Parkin.  You're a liar and a cheat," she said, spitting out the
words even before the door had closed.

"Now just a minute, Florentyna.  I feel for the good of the nation-"

"For the good of Pete Park-in, who can't keep his end of any bargain.
God help this country.  Well, I can tell you one thing: I am not
willing to run as your Vice President for a second tenn."

"I'm sorry to hear that," said the President, sitting down in his chair
anti making a note on the pad in front of him.  "but I naturally accept
your decision with regret.  Not that it would have made a lot of
difference."

"What do you mean?"  said Florentyna.

"I wasn't intending to ask you to join me on the ticket for a second
time, but you have made the whole problem a lot easier for me by
refusing to be considered.  The party will now understand why I had to
look to someone else for the coming election."

"You would lose the election if I ran against you."

"No, Florentyna, we would both lose and the Republicans might even win
the

Senate and the House.  That wouldn't make you the most popular little
lady in town."

"You won't get my backing in Chicago.  No President has ever won the
election without Illinois and they will never forgive you.  "

"They might if I replace one former senator from the state with
another."

Florentyna turned cold.  "You wouldn't dare," she said.

"If I pick Ralph Brooks, I think you will find he is a popular enough
choice.  So will the people of Illinois when I say that I see him as my
natural successor in five years' time."

Florentyna left without another word.  She must have been the only
person who had ever slammed the Oval Office door.

WHEN FLORENTYNA WENT OVER THE DETAILS of the Parkin meeting for E~dward
the following Saturday on the golf course at Cape Coo, he confessed
that the news, came as no great surprise.

"He may not he much of a President.  but he knows more about
Machiavellian politics than Nixon and Johnson put together."

"I should have listened to you in Detroit when you warned me this would
happen."

"What did your father always say about Henry Osborne?  Once a skunk,
always a skunk."

There was a slight breeze and Florentyna threw a few blades of grass
into the air to determine its direction.  Satisfied, she took a ball
from her golf bag, set it up and hit a long drive.  To her surprise the
wind took the ball slightly to the right and into some brush.

"Didn't properly anticipate the wind, VP."  did you?"  volunteered
Edward.

I can only believe this must be my day to beat you, Florentyna."  He
hit his ball right down the center of the fairway but twenty yards
shorter than

Florentyna's.

"Things are bad, Edward, but not that bad," she said smiling, and
proceeded to take the first hole with a chip out of the rough and a
long putt.

"Early days," said Edward as they were about to tee off on the second
hole.

He asked Florentyna about her future plans.

"Parkin is right: I can't make a fuss, because such an outburst would
only play into the hands of the Republicans, so I have decided to be
realistic about my future."

"And what does that mean?"

"I'll see the remaining fourteen months out as Vice President and then
I'd like to return to New York as chairman of the Baron Group.  I've
had an almost unique view of the company since my continual traveling
around the globe, and I think I'll be able to effect some new ideas
that could put us far in front of any of our competitors .

"Then it sounds as though we have an interesting time ahead of us,"
Edward said, smiling as he joined her to walk to the second green.  He
tried to concentrate on his game while Florentyna went on talking.

"I would also like to join the board of Lester's.  Richard always
wanted me to find out how a bank worked from the inside.  He never
stopped telling me he paid his directors a higher salary than the
President of the United

States."

"You'll have to consult William on that, not me."

"Why?"  asked Florentyna.

"Because he's taking over as chairman on January first next year.  He
knows more about banking than I ever will.  He's inherited all
Richard's natural instincts for high finance.  I'll stay on as a
director for a few more years, but I'm confident that the bank couldn't
be in better hands."  "is he old enough for such a responsibility?"

"Same age as you were when you first became chairman of the Baron
Group," said Edward.

"Well, at least we'll have one president in the family," Florentyna
said as she missed a two-foot putt.

"One hole each, VP."  Edward marked his card and studied the 210-yard
dogleg that lay in front of him.  "Now I know how you intend to occupy
half of your time.  So do you have anything planned for the other
half?"

"Yes," said Florentyna.  "The Remagen Trust has lacked direction since
the death of Professor Ferpozzi.  I've decided to head it up myself. Do
you know how much the trust has on deposit nowadays?"

"No, but it would only take one phone call to find out," said Edward,
trying to concentrate on his swing.

"I'll save you a quarter," said Florentyna.  "Twenty-one million
dollars, bringing in an annual income of nearly three million dollars.
Edward, the time has come to build the first Remagen University with
major scholarships for the children of first-gene ration immigrants."

"And remember, VP."  gifted children, whatever their background,"
said

Edward, teeing up.

"You're sounding more and more like Richard every day," she laughed

Edward swung.  "I wish my golf were as good as his," he added as he
watched his little white ball headed high and far before hitting a
tree.

Florentyna didn't seem to notice.  And after she had hit her ball
firmly down the middle of the fairway, they both walked off in
different directions.  They could not continue their conversation until
they had reached the green, where Florentyna went on talking about
where the new university should be built, how many students it should
admit in its first year, who should be the first president.  She ended
up losing the third and fourth holes.  Florentyna began to concentrate
on her game but still had to scramble to square the match up by the
ninth.

"I'll be particularly pleased to give your hundred dollars to the

Republican Party today," Florentyna said.  "Nothing would give me more
pleasure than seeing Parkin and Brooks bite the dust."

Florentyme sighed as she hit a bad short iron from the tee toward the
tenth green.

"I'm far fiorn beaten yet," said Edward.

Florentymi ignored him.  "What a waste my years in government have
been," she said.

"No, I can't agree with that," said Edward, still practicing his
swings.

"Eight years in Congress, a further seven in the Senate and ending up
the first woman Vice President.  And I suspect history will ultimately
record your role over the invasion of Pakistan far more accurately than
Parkin has felt necessary.  Even if you have achieved less than you'd
hoped, you've made the task a lot easier for the next woman who wants
to go the whole way.  Ironically I believe if you were the Democratic
candidate at the next election, you would win easily."

"The public opinion polls certainly agree with you."  Florentyna tried
to concentrate, but sliced her tee shot.  "Damn," she said as her ball
disappeared into the woods.

"You're not at the top of your game today, VP.," said Edward.  He
proceeded to win the tenth and eleventh holes but then threw away the
twelfth and thirteenth with overanxious putts.

"I think we should build a Baron in Moscow," said Florentyna when they
had reached the fourteenth green.  "That was one of my father's
greatest dreams, Did I ever tell you that the minister for tourism,
Mikhail

Zokovlov, has long been trying to interest me in the idea?  I have to
go on that frightful culture trip to Mo"-"Aow next month, which will be
a wonderful opportunity to discuss the idea with him in detail.  Thank
God for the Bolshoi Ballet, borscht and caviar.  At least they've never
tried to get me in bed with some handsome young man."

"Not while they know about our golf deal," chuckled Edward.

They split the fourteenth and fifteenth and Edward won the sixteenth
hole.  "We are about to discover what you are like under pressure,"
said

Florentyna.

Edward proceeded to lose the seventeenth by missing a putt of only
three feet, so that the match rested on the last hole.  Florentyna
drove well, but Edward, thanks to a lucky bounce off the edge of a
small rise, came within a few feet of her.  He put his second shot only
twenty yards from the green and found it hard to suppress a smile as
they walked down the center of the fairway together.

"You have a long way to go yet, Edward" said Florentyna as she sent her
ball flying into a sand trap.

Edward laughed *

"I would rem.  and you how good I am with a sand wedge and putter,"
said

Florentyna, and proved her point by pitching the ball only four feet
from the hole.

Edward chipped up from twenty yards to within six feet.

"This may be the last chance you'll ever have," she said.

Edward held his putter firmly and jabbed at the ball and watched it
teeter on the edge of the hole before disappearing into the cup.  He
threw his club high into the air and cheered.

"You haven't won yet," said Florentyna, "but no doubt it will be the
nearest you'll ever get."  She steadied herself as she checked the line
between ball and hole.  If she sank her putt, the match was halved and
she was off the hook.

"Don't ]at the helicopters distract you," said Edward.

"The only thing that is distracting me, Edward, is you.  Be warned, you
will not succeed.  Since the rest of my life depends on this shot, you
can be assured I shall not make a mistake.  In fact," she said, taking
a step back, "I shall wait until the helicopters, have passed over."

Florentyna stared up into the sky and waited for the four helicopters
to fly past.  Their chopping noise grew louder and louder.

"Did yon have to go to quite such lengths to win, Edward?"  she asked
as one of the helicopters began to descend.

"What the hell is going on?"  said Edward anxiously.

"I have no idea," said Florentyna.  "But I suspect we are about to find
out."

Her skirt whipped around her legs as the first helicopter landed a few
yards off the green of the eighteenth hole.  Even as the blades
continued to rotate an army colonel leaped out and rushed over to
Florentyna.  A second officer jumped out and stood by the helicopter,
holding a small black briefcase.  Florentyna and Edward stared at the
colonel as he stood to attention and saluted.

"Madam President," he said.  "The President is dead."

Flornentyim clenched her hand into a tight fist as the eighteenth hole
was surrounded by agents from the Secret Service.  She glanced again at
the black nuclear command briefcase which was now her sole
responsibility, the trigger she hoped she would never have to pull. She
was reminded that moment what real responsibility meant.

"How did it happen?"  she asked calmly.

The colonel continued in clipped tones.  "The President returned from
his morning jog and retired to his room to shower and change for
breakfast.

It was over twenty minute before any of us felt that something might be
wrong so I was sent to check, but ii was already too late.  The doctor
said he must have had a massive coronary.  He had had two minor heart
attacks during the last year, but on both occasions we managed to keep
them out of the press."

"How many people know of his death?"

"Three members of his personal staff, his doctor, Mrs.  Parkin and the
ittorney general, whom I informed immediately.  On his instructions, I
was detailed to find you and see that the oath of office is
administered as quickly as is convenient.  I am then to accompany you
to the White

House, where the attorney general is waiting to announce the details of
the President's death.  The attorney general hopes that these
arrangements meet with your approval."

"Thank you, Colonel.  We'd better return to my home immediately."

Florentyna, accompanied by Edward, the colonel, the officer with the
black box and four Secret Service agents, climbed aboard the army
aircraft.  As the chopper whirled up into the air, Florentyna gazed
down at the eighteenth green where her ball, a diminishing white speck,
remained four feet from the hole.  A few minutes later, the helicopter
landed on the grass in front of Florentyna's Cape Cod house while the
other three remained hovering overhead.

Florentyna led them al] into the living room, where young Richard was
playing with his father and Bishop O'Reilly, who had flown in for a
quiet weekend.

"Why am there helicopters flying over the house, Grandma?"  Richard
asked.

Florentyna e'plained to her grandson what had happened.  William and
Joanna rose from their chairs, not sure what to say.

"What do we do next, Colonel?"  asked Florentyna.

"We'll need a Bible," said the colon eland the oath of office."

Florentyna went to her study table in the corner of the room and from
the top drawer took out Miss Tredgold's Bible.  A copy of the
Presidential oath was not as easy to find: Edward thought it might be
i2 Theodore White's The

Making of the President: 1972, which he remembered was in the library.
He was right.

The colonel phoned the attorney general and checked that the wording
was correct.  Pierre Levale then spoke to Bishop O'Reilly and explained
how he should administer the oath.

In the living room of her Cape Cod home, Florentyna Kane stood beside
her family, with Colonel Max Perkins and Edward Winchester acting as
witnesses.

She took the Bible in her right hand and repeated the words after
Bishop

O'Reilly.  I, FloTentyna Kane, do solemnly swear that I will faithfully
execute the office of President of the United States and will to the
best of my ability preserve, protect and defend the Constitution of the
United States."

Thus Florentyna Kane became the forty-third President of the United
States.

William was the first to congratulate his mother and then they all
tried to join in at once.

"I think we should leave for Washington, Madam President," the colonel
suggested a few minutes later.

"Of course," Florentyna turned to the old family priest.  "Thank you,
Your

Excellency," she said.  But the bishop did not reply; far the first
time in his life, the little Irishman was lost for words.  "I shall
need you to perform another ceremony for me in die near future."

"And what might that be, my dear?"

"As goon as we have a free weekend Edward and I are going to be
married."

Edward looked even more surprised and delighted that he had at the
moment he heard Flornentyna had become President.  "I remembered a little
too late," she continued "that if you fail to complete a hole in
match-play competition, it is automatically awarded to your
opponent."

Edward took her in his arms as Florentyna said, "My darling, I will
need your wisdom and your strength, but most of all your love."

"You've already had them for nearly forty years, VP.  I mean .. . 11

Everyone laughed.

"I think we should leave now, Madam President," the colonel prompted

Florentyna nodded in agreement as the phone rang.

Edward walked over to the desk and picked it up.  "It's Ralph Brooks.
Says he needs to speak to you urgently."

"Would y(m apologize to the Secretary of State, Edward, and explain I
am not available at the moment."  Edward was about to convey the
message when she added, "And ask him if he would be kind enough to join
me at the White

House immediately."

Edward smiled as the forty-third President of the United States walked
toward the door.  The colonel accompanying her pressed a switch on his
two-way radio and spoke softly into it: "Baroness returning to Crown.
The contract has been signed."

