346 My Brother Theodore Roosevelt

-followed in their hearts the hard path that he was bravely treading.

The convention adjourned, and he asked the leadlers to wait until the following day, at least, for his answer to the RoundRobin request which had been sent to him, but he dlid not give much hope that he would look favorably upon their desire that he should allow his name to be put in nomination as candidate for governor. I motored him back to Albany and took the train with him for- New York. In recalling the hours of intercourse that afternoon and early evening, the great impression made upon my mind by his attitude was one of ineffable gentleness. Never was he more loving in his interest about me: and mine; never was he less thoughtful of self. I realized that he needed quiet, and when I found that my seat was in a different car from his, although several people offered to change their, seats with me, I felt that after our drive together, it would do him more good to be alone and read than to try to talk to me. I told him I would order our dinner and would come back for- him when it was time for the meal, and I left him with his usiual book in his hand. When I came back, however, I stood behiind him for a moment or two before making myself known to himi again, and I could see that he was not reading, that his sombrce eyes were fixed on the swiftly passing woodlands and the river, and that the book had not the power of distracting him from the all-embracing grief which enveloped him. When I spokce, however, he turned with a responsive smile, and during our •whole meal gave me, as ever, the benefit of his delightful knowledge of all the affairs of the world.

Only once during our talk did he speak of the Round Robin, and especially of my son's desire that he should be the nominee for governor. He used an expression in discussing the matter which gave me at once a sense of almost physical apprehension. Looking at me gravely, he said: "Coriuine, I have only one fight left in me, and I think I should reserve rmy strength in case I am needed in 1920." The contraction of my heart was

swift and painful, and I said: "Theodore, you don't feel really ill, do you?" "No," he said; "but I am not what I was and there is only one fight left in me." I suggested that that fight would probably be made easier by this premonitory battle, but he shook his head and I could see that there was but little chance of his undertaking the factional warfare of a state campaign, nor did he seem to feel, as did some others, that to win the election for governor of New York State would be of distinct advantage in connection with the great fight to come in 1920. The following week Theodore Roosevelt definitely refused to let his name be put before the people as a candidate for the governorship of the Empire State.

That evening on arriving late in New York, he would not let me go to the Langdon Hotel with him, but insisted on taking me to my own house. The next morning I went early to the Langdon, hoping for better news, and saw my sister-in-law, whose wonderful self-control was a lesson to all those who have had to meet the ultimate pain of life. I could see that she had but little hope, but for my brother's sake, until the actual confirmation of Quentin's death, she bravely hoped for hope. Later, Colonel Roosevelt made a statement from Oyster Bay in connection with the many telegrams and cables of sympathy which they received. He said: "These messages were not meant for publication but to express sympathy with Quentin's father and mother, and sorrow for a gallant boy who had been doing his duty like hundreds of thousands of young Americans. Many of them indeed, I think, were really an expression of sympathy from the mothers and fathers who have gladly and proudly, and yet with sorrow, seen the sons they love go forth to battle for their country and the right. These telegrams, cables, and letters show the spirit of our whole people."

The noble attitude of my brother and sister-in-law roused deep admiration, and I have always felt that their influence was never more felt than when with aching hearts they continued quietly to go about their daily duties.

War

347