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■HHIMI

600064464T

THROUGH ONE ADMINISTRATION.

VOL. III.

I

THEOUGH
ONE ADMINISTKATION

BY

FEANCES HODGSON BURNETT,

AUTHOR OF '*THAT LASS O' LOWRIE'S," *' HAWORTH'S," '•LOUISIANA," 9

** A FAIR BARBARIAN," ETC., ETC.

IN THREE VOLUMES.
VOL. III.

FREDERICK WARNE AND CO

BEDFORD STREET, STRAND.
1883.

(All Rights Reserved.)

-k r^;:;

Entgbed AT Statiombbs' Hall
Copyright by
FRANCES HODGSON BÜRNETT.

LONDON : B. OLAT, BONS, AND TATLOB.

CONTENTS.

CHAPTER I.

PAOE
SENATOR BLUNDEL 1

CHAPTER II.

DAWNING LOVE 30

•

CHAPTER III.

ON THE RIVER 63

CHAPTER IV.

A DINNER PARTY 82

CHAPTER V.

FATHEB AND DAUGHTER 10

vi Contents.

CHAPTER VI.

PAGE
A NOBLE FRIKND 119

CHAPTER VII.

AN IMPORTANT INTERVIEW 152

CHAPTER VIII.

RICHARD AT BAT 178

CHAPTER IX.

A SOCIAL PERIL 186

CHAPTER X.

ÜNEXPECTED AID 209

CHAPTER XI.
blundel's efforts 213

CHAPTER XII.

THE BALL, AND AFTER IT 223

Contents. vü

CHAPTER XIII.

PAGE
A PARTING 266

CHAPTER XIV.

ALONE 299

CHAPTER XV.

ANOTHBR ADMINISTRATION 309

THEOUGH ONE ADMINISTEATION.

CHAPTER I.

SENATOR BLUNDEL.

The next few weeks were not agreeable
ones to Richard Amory. There was too
much feverish anxiety and uncertainty in
them. He had not yet acquired the coolness
and Kardihood of experience, and he feit their
lack in himself. He had a great deal at
stake, more than at the outset it had seemöd
possible he could have under any circum-
stances. He began to realisc with no little
discomfort that he had run heävier risks than
he had intended to allow himself to be led
into running. When they rose before him in
their füll magnitude, as they did occasionally
when affairs assumed an nnenconraging aspect,

VOL. III. B

2 Through One Administration.

he wished his enthusiasm had been less great.
It could not be said that he had reached
remorse for, or actual repentance of, his
indiscretions ; he had simply reached a point
when discouragement led him to feel that he
might be called upon to repent by misfortune.
Up to this time it had been his habit to drive
up to the Capitol in his coupS, to appear in
the galleries, to saunter through the lobby,
and to flit in and out of committee-rooms
with something of the air of an amateur
rather enjoying himself ; he had made himself
populär, his gaiety, his magnetic manner, his
readiness to be all things to all men, had
smoothed his pathway for him, while his
unprofessional air had given him an appearance
of harmlessness.

** He's a first-rate kind of fellow to -have
on the ground when a thing of this sort is
going on," one of the smaller satellites once
remarked. " Nobody's afraid of being seen
with him. There's an immense deal in that.
There are fellows who come here who can
half ruin a man with position by recognising
him on the street. Regulär cid hahds they
are — working around here for years, making
an honest living out of their native land.

Senator Blundel. 3

Every one knows them and what they are
up to. Now, this one is diflferent, and that
wife of his "

'' What has she been doing ? " flung in
Planefield, who was present. "What has
she got to do with it ? "

He Said it with savage uneasiness. He
was füll of restive jealousy and distrust in
these days.

" I was only going to say that she is
known in society," he remarked, "and she
is the kind the most particular of those
fellows don't object to calling on/'

But, as matters took form and a more
critical point was neared, as the newspapers
began to express themselves on the subject
of the Westoria lands scheme, and prophesy
its failure or success, as it became the subject
of editorials applauding the public-spirited-
ness of those most prominent in it, or of
paragraphs denouncing the corrupt and self-
seeking tendency of the times, as the mental
temperature of certain individuals became a
matter of vital importance, and the degree of
cordiality of a greeting an afiair of elation or
despair, Eichard feit that his air of being an
amateur was becoming a thing of the past.

B 2

4 Through One Administration.

He was too anxious to keep it up well; he
did not sleep at night, and began to look
fagged, and found it required an effort to
appear at ease.

" Confoimd it ! " he said to Planefield, " how
can one be at ease with a man when his yes
or no may be success or destruction to you.
It makes him of too much consequence. A
feUow finds himself trying to please, and it
spoils his manner, I never knew what it
was to feel a human being of any particular
consequence before/' •

" You have been lucky," commented
Planefield, not too tolerantly.

" I have been lucky," Richard answered,
"but Fm not lucky now, and I shall be
deucedly unlucky if that bill doesn't pass.
The fact is, there are times when I half
wish I hadnt meddled with it/'

^' The mistake you made," said Planefield,
with stolid ill-humour, " was in letting Mrs.
Amory go away. Now is the time you need
her most. There's no denying that there
are some things women can do better than
men ; and when a man has a wife as clever
as yours, and as much of a social success, he's
blundering when he doesn't call on her for

Senator Blundel. 5

assistance. One or two of her little dinners
would be the very things just now for the
final smoothing down of one or two rough
ones who haven't opinions unless you provide
them with them. She'd provide them with
them fast enough. They'd only have one
opinion when she'd done with them, if she
was in one of the moods Tve seen her in
sometimes. Look how she carried Bowman
and Pell off their feet the night she gave
them the description of that row in the
House. And Hargis, of North Carolina,
swears by her; he's a simple, domesticated
fellow, and was homesick the night I brought
him here, and she found it out, heaven knows
how, and talked to him about his wife and
children until he said he feit as if he'd seen
them. He told me so with tears in his eyes.
It is that kind of thing we want now."

" Well," said Eichard, nervously, " it isn't
at our disposaL I don't mind telling you
that she was rather out of humour with the
aspect of affairs before she went away, and I
had one interview with her which showed me
it would be the safest plan to let her go."

" Out of humour 1 " said Planefield. " She
has been a good deal out of humour lately,

6 Through One Administration.

it seems to me. Not that it*8 any business
of mine ; but it's rather a pity, considering
circumstances."

Richard coloured, walked a few steps, put
bis hands in bis pockets and took tbem out
again. Among tbe cbief sources of anxious
trouble to bim bad been tbat, of late, be
bad found bis companion ratber difficult to
get along witb. He bad been irritable, and
even a trifle oyerbearing, and bad at times
exbibited an indifference to results truly
embarrassing to contemplate, in view of tbe
crisis at band. Wben be intrencbed bimself
bebind a certain beavy stubbornness in wbicb
be was specially strong, Riebard feit bimself
belpless. Tbe big body, tbe florid face, tbe
doggedly unresponsive eye, were too mucb to
combat against. Wben be was ill-bumoured,
Riebard knew tbat be endeavoured to
conciliate bim ; but wben tbis mood beld
possession be could only feel alarm and ask
bimself if it could be possible tbat, after all,
tbe man migbt be brutal and false enougb
to fall bim. Tbere were times wben be sat
and looked at bim unwillingly, fascinated by
tbe likeness be found in bim to tbe man
wbo bad sent poor Westor to bis doom.

Senator Blundel. 7

Naturally, the old story had been revived
of late, and he heard new versions of it and
more minute descriptions of the chief actors,
and it was not difl&cult for an overwrought
Imagination to discover in the two men some
similarity of personal characteristic. Just at
this moment there rose within him a memory
of a point of resemblance between the pair
which would have been extremely embar-
rassing to him if he had permitted it to
assume the disagreeable form of an actual
fact. It was the resemblance between the
influences which had moved them. In both
cases it had been a woman— in this case it
was his own wife, and if he had not been
too greatly harassed he would have appre-
eiated the indelicacy of the Situation. He
was not an unrefined person in theory, and
his sensitiveness would have caused him to
revolt at the grossness of such a position if
he had not had so much at stake and been
so overborne by hiä associates. His mistakes
and vices were always the result of circum-
stance and enthusiasm, and he hurried past
them with averted eyes and refused to concede
to them auy substantiality. There is nothing
more certain than that he had never allowed

8 Through One Administration.

himself to believe that he had found Bertha
of practical use in rendering Planefield docile
and attracting less important luminaries.
Bertha had been ver}^ channing and amiable,
that was all ; she was always so ; it was her
habit to please people — her nature, in fact —
and she had only done what she always did.
As a mental Statement of the case, nothing
could be more simple than this, and he
was moved to private disgust by his
companion's aggressive clumsiness, which
seemed to complicate matters and confront
him with more crude suggestions,

"I am afraid she would not enjoy your
way of putting it," he said.

Planefield shut his teeth on his eigar
and looked out of the window. That was
his sole response, and was a form of buUying
he enjoyed.

" We must remember that — that she does
not realise everything." continued . Richard,
uneasily ; " and she has not regarded the
matter from any serious Standpoint. It is
my Impression," he added, with a sudden
sense of growing Irritation, ''that she wouldn*t
have anything to do with it if she thought
it was a matter of gain or loss ! "

Senator Blundel. 9

Planefield made no movement. He was
convinced that this was a lie, and his look
out of the window was his reply to it.

Eichard put his hands into his pockets
again and tumed about, irritated and helpless.

" You must haye seen yourself how un-
practical she is," he exclaimed. " She is a
mere child in Business matters. Any one
could deceive her."

He stopped and flushed without any
apparent reason. He found himself looking
out of the window too, with a feeling of
most unpleasant confusion. He was obliged
to shake it off before he spoke again, and
when he did so it was with an air of
beginning with a fresh subject.

" After all/' he said, " everything does not
depend upon influenae of that sort. There
are other things to be considered. Have you
Seen Blundel V

"You can't expect a man like Blundel,'*
Said Planefield, "to be easy to manage.
Blundel is the possessor of a moral character,
and when a man has a capital like that —
and Blundel's sharpness into the bargain — he
is not going to trifle with it. He's going
to hold on to it until it reaches its highest

10 Thbough One Administration.

market value, and then decide which way
he will invest it."*

Kichard dropped into a seat by the table.
He feit bis forehead growing damp.

" But if we are not sure of Blundel ? "
he exclaimed.

^*Well, we are not sure of Blundel,"
was the answer. " VVhat we have to hope
is that he isn^t sure of himsel£ The one
thing you can't be sure of is a moral
character. Impeccability is rare, and it is
never easy for an Outsider to hit on its
exaet value. It varies, and you have to
run risks with it. Blundel's is expensive."

"There has been a great deal of money
used," hesitated Richard, "a great deal."

Planefield resorted to the window again.
It had not been his money which had been
used. He had sufl&cient intellect to reap
advantages where . they were to be reaped,
and to avoid indiscreet ventures.

" You had better go and see Blundel
yourself," he said, after a pause. " I have
had a talk with him, and made as alluring
a Statement of the case as I could, with the
proper degree of caution, and he has had
time to put the matter in the scales with

Senator Blundel. 11

his impeccability and see whioh weighs the
heavier, and if they can't be made to balance.
He will try to balance them, but if he can't

You must settle what is to be done

between you. I have done my best."

" By Jove ! " exclaimed Richard, virtuously,
** what corruption ! "

It was an ingenuous ejaculation, but he was
not collected enough to appreciate the native
candour of it himself at the moment. He
feit that he was being hardly treated, and that
the most sacred trusts of a great nation were
in hands likely to betray them at far too high
a figure. The remark amounted to an outburst
of patriotism.

" Have they all their price ? " he cried.

Planefield turned his head slowly and
glanced at him over his Shoulder.

'' No," he Said ; " if they had, you'd find it
easier. There's your difficulty. If they were
all to be bought, or none of them were to be
sold, you'd see your way."

It did not seem to Richard that his way
was very clear at the present moment. At
every step of late he had found new obstacles
in his path and new burdens on his Shoulders.
People had so many interests and so many

12 Through One Administration.

limitations, and the limitations were always
related to the interests. He began to resolve .
that it was a very sordid and business-like
World in which human lot was cast, and to
realise that the tendency of humanity was to
coarse prejudice in favour of itself.

"Then I had better see Blundel at once,**
he Said, with feverish impatience.

" You haven't any time to lose," was
Planefield's cool response. "And you will
need all the wit you can carry with you.
You are not going to offer him inducements,
you know ; you are only going to prove to
him that his chance to do something for his
country lies before him in the direction of the
Westoria lands. After that "

" After that," repeated Richard, anxiously.

"Do what you think safest and most
practicable."

As the well-appointed equipage drew up
under the archway before the lower entrance
to the north wing of the Capitol, a group of
men who stood near the doorway regarded it
with interest. They did so because three of
them were strangers and sightseers, and the
fourth, who was a well-seasoned Washing-
tonian, had called their attention to it.

Senator Blundbl, 13

" There," he said, with an experienced air,
" there is one of them this moment. It is
beginning to be regarded as a fact that he is
mixed up with one of the biggest Jobs the
couDtry has ever known. He is up to his
eara in this Westoria business, it's beUeved,
though he professes to be nothing more than
a sort of interested looker-on and a friend of
the prime movers. He's a gentleman, you
see, with a position in society, and a pretty
wife who is a favourite, and the pretty wife
entertains his fnends ; and when a man is in
an uncertain frame of mind, the husband
invites him to dinner, and the pretty wife
interests herseif in him. She knows how to
do it, they say-and he goes away a wiser and
a better man, and more likely to see his way
to making himself agreeable. Nothing pro-
fessional about it, don't you see. All quite
proper and natural. No lobbying about that,
you know — ^but it helps a bill through won-
derfolly. I teil you there's no knowing what
goes on in these tip-top parlours about here."

He said it with modest pride and exultation,
and his companions were deUghted. They
represented the average American with all his
ingenuous eagerness for the dramatie exposure

14 Throügh One Administration.

of crime in bis fellow-man. They had existed
joyously for years in the belief that Washing-
ton was the seat of corruption, bribery, and
fraud; that it was populated chiefly with
brilliant female lobbyists and depraved officials
who carried their privileges to market and
bartered and aold them with a guileless
candour, whose temerity was only to be
equalled by its brazen cheerfulness of spirit
They were, probably, not in the least aware
of their mental attitude towards their nation's
govemment, but they revelled in it none the
less, and would have feit a keen pang of dis-
appointment if they had been suddenly
confronted with the faet that there was
actually an element of most unpicturesque
honesty in the House and a flavour of shame-
less impeccability in the Senate. They had
heard delightful stories of " Jobs " and
** schemes," and had hoped to hear more.
When they had been taken to the visitors'
gallery, they had exhibited an earnest anxiety
to be shown the members connected with
the last Investigation, and had received with
private rapture all anecdotes connected with
the ruling political scandal. They decided
that the country was in a bad way, and feit a

Senator Blunjdel. 15

glow of honest pride in its standing up at all
in its present condition of rottenness. Their
axdoui- had been a little damped by an
• incautious statement made by their friend
and guide, to the effect that the subject of
the Investigation seemed likely to clear
himself of the charges made against him,
and the appearance of Richard Amory, with
his personal attractions, his neat equipage,
and his air of belonging to the great world,
was something of a boon to them. They
wished his wife had been with him ; they had
only Seen one female lobbyist as yet, and she
had been merely a cheap, flashy woman, with
thin, rouged cheeks and sharp, eager eyes.

" Looks rather anxious, doesn't he ? " one
asked the other, as Amory went by. He cer-
tainly looked anxious as he passed them ;
but, onee inside the building, he made an
effort to assume something of his usual air of
gay good cheer. It would not do to present
himself with other than a fearless front. So
he walked with a firm and buoyant tread
through the great vaulted corridors and up
the marble stairways, exchanging a salutation
with one passer-by and a word of greeting
with another. He found Senator Blundel in

16 Throügh One Administration.

his committee-room, sitting at the green-
covered table, looking over some papers. He
was a short, stout man, with a blunt-featured
face, grayish hair, which had a tendency to
stand on end, and small, shrewd eyes. When
he had been in the House, his rising to his
feet had generaUy been the signal for his
fellow-members to bestir themselves and turn
to listen, as it was his habit to display a sharp
humour of a rough-and-ready sort. Richard
had always feit this humour coarse, and having
but little confidence in BlundeVs possessing
any other qualification for his position, re-
garded it as rather trying that circumstances
should have combined to render his senti-
ments of such importance in the present crisis.
Looking at the thick-set figure and ordinary
face, he feit that Planefield had been right,
and that Bertha might have done much with
him, principally bccause he presented him-
self as one of the obstacles whose opinions
should be formed for them all the more on
account of their obstinacy when once biassed
in a wrong direction.

But there was no Suggestion of these con-
victions in his manner when he spoke. It
was very graceful and ready, and his strong

Senator Blujndel. 1 7

points of good breeding and mental agility
stood him in good stead. The man before bim,
whose early social . advantages bad not bfeen
great, was not too dull to feel tbe influence
of tbe first quality and find bimself placed at
a secretly acknowledged disadvantage by it.
After be bad beard bis name, bis smaU, sbarp
eyes fixed tbemselves on bis visitor's band-
some countenance, witb an expression not
easy to read.

"It is not necessary for me to make ä
new Statement of our case," said Riebard,
easily. " I won't fatigue you and occupy your
time by repeating wbat you bave already
beard stated in tbe clearest possible manner
by Senator Planefield."

Blundel tbrust bis bands into bis pockets
and nodded.

" Yes," be responded. '* I saw Planefield,
and be said a good deal about it."

"Wbieb, of course, you bave reflected
upon?'' said Riebard.

"Well, yes. IVe tbougbt it over — along
witb otber tbings."

" I trust favourably ! " Riebard suggested.

Blundel stretebed bis legs a little and pusbed
bis bands fartber down into bis pockets. >

VOL. in. c

1

18 Throügh One Admtnistkation.

" Now, what would you call favourably ? "
he inquired.

" Oh I " replied Eichard, with self-possessed
promptness, " favourably to the connecting
branch/'

It was a rather fine stroke, this airy candour,
but he had studied it beforehand thoroughly
and calculated its effect. It surprised Blundel
into looking up at him quickly.

" You would, eh ? " he said, " let us hear
why."

" Because," Eichard stated, " that would
make it favourable to us."

Blundel was beguiled into a somewhat
uneasy laugh.

"Well," he remarked, "you're frank enough."

Eichard fixed upon him an open, apprecia-
tive glance.

" And why not ? " he answered. *^ There is
our strong point — that we can afford to be
frank. We have nothing to conceal. We
have something to gain, of course — who has
not ? — ^but it is to be gained legitimately — so
there is no necessity for our concealing that.
The case is simplicity itself. Here are the
two raiboads. See," and he laid two strips
of paper side by side upon the table- ^'A

Senator Blündel. 19

connecting branch is needed. If it runs
through this way," making a line with bis
finger, "it makes certain valuable lands im-
measurably more valuable. Tbere is no prac-
tical objection to its taking this direction
instead of that — in either case it runs through
the Government reservations — ^the road will
be built — somebody's property will be bene-
fited. Why not that of my clients ? "

Blundel looked at the strips of paper, and
his little eyes twinkled mysteriously.

" By Geqrge ! " he said, " that isn't the way
such things are generally put. What you
ought to do is to prove that nobody is to be
benefited, and that you're working for the
good of the Government."

Eichard laughed.

'* Oh ! " he Said, " I am an amateur, and
I should be of no use whatever to my clients
if they had anything to hide or any special
reason to fear failure. We have Opposition to
contend with, of course. The southern line is
naturally against us, as it wants the connecting
branch to run in the opposite direction ; but
if it has no stronger claim than we have, the
struggle is equal. They are open to the
objection of being benefited by the subsidies,

2

20 Throügh One Administration.

too. It is scarcely ground enough for refusing
your vote — that* some one will be benefited
by it. The people is the Government in
America, and the Government the people,
and the interest of both are too indissolubly
connected to admit of being easily separated
on public measurcs. As I said, I am an
amateur, but I am a man of the world. My
basis is a natural, human one. I desire to
attain an object, and though the Government
will be benefited, I am obliged to confess I
am arguing for my object more than for the
Government."

This was said with more delightful, airy
frankness than ever. But, concealed beneath
this genial openness was a desperate anxiety
to discover what his companion was thinking
of, and if the efiect of his stroke was what he
had hoped it would be. He knew that frank-
ness so complete was a novelty, and he trusted
that his bearing had placed him out of the list
of ordinary applicants for favour. His private
conviction, to which he did not choose to allow
himself to refer mentally with any degree of
openness, was that, if the man was honest,
honesty so bold and simple must disarm him ;
and, if he was not, ingenuousness so reckless

Senator Blundel. 21

must offer him inducements. But it was not
easy to arrive at once at any decision as to the
tenor of Blunders thoughts. He had listened,
and it being his habit to see the humour of
things, he had grinned a little at the humour
he saw in this Situation, which was perhaps
not a bad omen, though he showed no dis-
pösition to commit himself on the spot.

" Makes a good story," he said ; " pretty big
scheme, isn't it ? "

" Not a small one," answered Richard, freely.
" That is one of its merits."

"The subsidies won't have to be small
ones," said Blundel. " That isn't one of its
merits." Now, let us hear your inducements ?

Eichard checked himself on the very verge
of a Start, realising instantaneously the folly of
his first flashing thought.

"The inducements you can offer to the
Government," added Blundel. " You haven't
gone into a thing of this sort without feeling
you have some on hand."

Of course there were inducements, and
Bichard had them at his fingers' ends, and was
very fluent and eloquent in his statement of
them. In fact, when once fairly launched
upon the subject, he was somewhat surprised

22 Throügh One Administration.

to find how many powerful reasons there were
for its being to the interest of the nation that
the land grants should be made to the road
which ran through the Westoria lands and
opened up their resources. His argument
became so brilliant, as he proceeded, that he
was moved by their sincerity himself, and
gained impetus through his confidence in
them. He really feit that he was swayed by a
generous desire to benefit his country, and
enjoyed his conviction of his own honesty with
a refinement which, for the moment, lost sight
of all less agreeable features of the proeeeding.
All his fine points came out under the glow of
his enthusiasm — his grace of speech and man-
ner, his picturesque habit of thought, which
gave colour and vividness to all he said — his
personal attractiveness itself.

Blundel bestirred himself to sit up and look
at him with a new interest. He liked a good
talker ; he was a good talker himself. His
mind was of a practical business stamp, and
he was good at a knock-down blow in argu-
ment, or at a joke or jibe which felled a man
like a meat-axe ; but he had nothing like this>
and he feit something like envy of all this
swiftness and readiness and polish.

Senator Blündel. 23

When he finished, Richard feit that he must
have impressed him ; that it was impossible
that it should be otherwise, even though there
were nö special external signs of Blundel being
greatly affected. He had thrust his hands into
his pockets as before, and his hair stood on
end as obstinately.

" Well/' he said, succinctly, " it is a good
Story, and it's a big scheme."

" And you ? " said Richard. ^' We are

Sure of your ^'

Blundel took a band out of his pocket and
ran it over his upright hair, as if in a futile
attempt at sweeping it down.

" I'U teil you what I'll do/' he said. '* I'U
see you day after to-morrow."

" But " exclaimed Richard, secretly

aghast

Blundel ran over his hair again and
retumed his band to his pocket.

*^ Oh, yes ! " he answered. " I know all
about that. You don't want to lose time, and
you want to feel sure ; but, you see, I want to
feel sure, too. As I said, it's a big business ;
it's too big a business to assume the responsi-
bility of all at once. Tm not going to run
any risks. I don't say you want me to run

24 Throügh One Administration.

any ; but, you know, you are an amateur, and
there may be risks you don't realise. TU see
you again."

In his character of amateur, it was impos-
sible for Eichard to be importunate, but his
temptations to commit the indiscretion were
strong. A hundred things might happen in
the course of two days ; delay was more dan-
gerous than anything eise. The worst of it all
was that he had really gained no reliable
knowledge of the man himself and of how it
would be best to approach him. He had seen
him throughout the interview just as he had
seen him before it. Whether or not his sharp-
ness wa^ eunning and his bluntness a defence,
he had not been able to decide.

" At any rate, he is cautious/' he thought.
" How cautious it is for us to find out."

When he left him, Richard was in a fever of
disappointment and perplexity, which, to his
ease and pleasure-loving nature, was torment.

" Confound it all I " he said. " Confound
the thing from beginhing to end 1 It will
have to pay well to pay for this."

He had other work before him, other efforts
to make, and, after he had made them he
returned to his carriage fatigued and over-

Senator Blundel. 25

wrought. He had walked through the great
corridors, from wing to wing, in pursuit of
men who seemed to elude him like will-o'-the-
wisps ; he had been driven to standing among
motley groups, who sent in cards which did
not always intercede for them ; he had had
Interviews with men who were outwardly
suave and pliable, with men who were ill-
mannered and impatient, with men who were
obstinate and distrustful, and with men who
were too much oecupied with their own affairs
to be other than openly indifferent ; if he had
met with a shade of encouragement at one
point, he had found it amply balanced by dis-
couragement at the next ; he had seen himself
regarded, as an applicant for favour, and a
person to be disposed of as speedily as possible,
and, when his work was at an end, his physical
condition was one of exhaustion, and his
mental attitude marked chiefly by disgust and
weariness of spirit.

This being the State of affairs, he made a
call upon Miss Varien, who always exhilarated
and entertained him.

He found her in her bower, and was reeeived
with the unvarying tact which characterised
her manner upon all occasions. He poured

26 Theoügh One Administration.

forth his woes, as far as they could be told,
and was very picturesque about them as he
reclined in the easiest of easy chairs.

" It is my opinion that nothing can be
done without money," he said, "which is
disgraceful I ''

" It is, indeed," acknowledged Miss Varien,
with a gleam of beautiful little teeth.

She had lived in Washington with her
exceptional father and entirely satisfactory
mother from her earliest infancy, and had
gained from Observation — at which she was
brilliant, as at all eise — a fand of valuable
information. She had seen many things, and
had not seen them in vain* It may even
be suspected that Richard, in his character
of amateur, was aware of this. There was
a Suggestion of watchfulness in his glance
at her.

*' Things ought to be better or worse to
simplify the System," she said.

" That is in effeet what I heard said this
moming," answered Richard.

" I am sorry it is not entirely new," she
retumed. ** Was it suggested, also, that since
we cannot have incorruptibility we might alter
our moral Standards and remove corruption by

Senator Blundel. 27

making all transactions mere matters of busi-
ness ? If there was no longer any penalty
attached to the sale and barter of public Privi-
leges, such sale and barter would cease to be
dishonour and crime. We should be better if
"we were infinitely worse. The theory may
appear bold at first blush — no, not at first
blush, for blushes are to be done away with —
at first sight, I will say in preference ; it
may appear bold, but after much reflection I
have decided that it is the only practicable
one.'*

*^It is undoubtedly brilliant," replied
Richard ; " but, as you say it would simplify
matters wonderfuUy, I should not be at such
a loss to know what Senator Blundel will do,
for instance, and my appetite for lunch would
be better.''

" It might possibly be worse," snggested
Miss Varien.

Richard glanced at her quickly.

"That is a remark which evidently has a
foundation,*" he said. " I wish you would teil
me what prompted it.'^

** I am not sure it was very discreet," was
the reply. " My personal knowledge of Senator
Blundel prompted it."

28 Through One Administration.

" You know him very well," said Richard,
with some eagemess.

" I should not venture to say I knew any
one very weU," she said, in the captivating
voiee which gave to all her words such value
and suggestiveness. ** I know him as I know
many other men like him. T was born a poli-
tician, and existence without my politics would
be an arid desert to me. I have talked to him
and read his Speeches, and foUowed him in his
career for some time. I have even asked ques-
tions about him, and, consequently, I know
something of his methods. I think — ^you see,
I only say I think — I know what he will do."

" In Heaven's name, what is it ?' demanded
Richard.

She unfurled her fan and smiled over it with
that delightful gleam of little white teeth.

" He will take his time," she answered. ** He
is slow, and prides himself on being sure. Your
bill will not be acted upon, it will be set aside
to lie over until the next session of Congress."

Richard feit as if he changed colour, but he
bore himself with outward discretion.

" You have some ulterior motive," he said.
" Having invited me to remain to luncheon,
you seek to render me incapable of doing

Senator Blundel. 29

myself justice. You saw in my eye the wolfish
hunger which is the result of interviews with
the savage Senator and the pitiless member of
Congress. Now I see the value of your theory.
If it were in practice, I could win Blundel
over with gold. What is your opinion of his
conscience as it Stands ? "

It was Said with admirable lightness and
answered in a like strain, but he had never
been more anxiously on the alert than he was
as he watched Miss Varien's vivacious and
subtly expressive face.

" I have not reached it yet," she said.
" And consciences are of such different make
and material ; I have not decided whether his
is made of interest or honesty. He is a mix-
ture of shrewdness and crudeness which is very
baffing ; just when you are arguing from the
shrewdness the crudeness displays itself, and
vice versd. But, as I said, I think your bül
will not be acted upon."

And then they went in to lunch, and, as he
ate his lobster-salad and made himself agree-
able beyond measure, Richard wondered, with
an inward tremor, if she could be right.

CHAPTEE IL

DAWNINa LOVE.

Mrs. Sylvestre did not leave town early»
The weather was reasonably cool, the house
on Lafayette Square was comfortable, and
Washington in spring is at its loveliest. She
liked the lull after the season, and enjoyed it
to its utmost, wisely refusing all invitations to
fitful after-Lent gaieties. She held no more
reeeptions, but saw her more intimate ac-
quaintances in the evening, when they made
their informal calls. With each week that
passed, her home gave her greater pleasure
and grew prettier.

" I never lose interest in it," she said to
Arbuthnot. " It is a continued delight to me.
I find that I think of it a great deal, and am
fond of it almost as if it was a friend I had

Dawning Love, tSl

found. I think I must have been intended
for a housewife."

Mrs, Merriam's liking for Laurence Arbuth-
not having increased as their acquaintance
progressed, bis intimacy in the housebold
became more and more an established fact.

" One sbould always number, among one's
acquaintance/' the clever dowager remarked,
*'an agreeable, well-bred, and reliable man-
friend A man one can ask to do things, if
unforeseen oecasions arise. He must be
agreeable, since one must be intimate with
him, and for the same reason he must be
well-bred, Notwithstanding our large circle,
we are a rather lonely pair, my dear."

Gradually Mrs. Sylvestre herseif had found
a slight change taking place in her manner
towards Arbuthnot. She became conscious of
liking him better, and of giving him more
mental attention, as she saw him more famili-
arly. The idea dawned by slow degrees upon
her that the triviality of which she accused
him was of an unusual order ; that it was
accompanied by qualities and peculiarities
which did not seem to belong to it. She had
discovered that he could deny himself pleasures
he desired, that he was secretly thoughtful for

32 Throügh One Administeation.

others, that he was — also secretly— determined,
and that he had his serious moments, however
persistently he endeavoured to conceal them.
Perhaps the Professor had given her more in-
formation conceming him than she could have
gained by Observation in any comparatively
Short Space of time. " This frivolous fellow,"
he Said to her one night, laying an aflFectionate
hand on Arbuthnot's arm, as they were on the
point of leaving the house together, after
having spent the evening there, " this frivo-
lous fellow is the friend of my old age. I
wonder why."

" So do I," Said Arbuthnot. " I assure you
that you could not find a reason, Professor."

" There is a kind of reason," retumed the
Professor, "though it is scarcely worthy of
the name. This frivolous fellow is not such a
trifler as he seems, and it interests me to see
his seriousness continually getting the better
of him when he fancies he has got it under
and trodden it beneath his feet."

Arbuthnot laughed again — the füll, careless
laugh which was so excellent an answer to
everything.

" He maligns me, this dissector of the
emotions," he said. "He desires artfully tö

Dawning Love. 33

give you the Impression that I am not serious
by nature. I am, in fact, seriousness itself.
It is the wicked world which gets the better
of me."

Which Statement Mrs. Sylvestre might have
chosen to place some reliance in as being a
plausible one, if she had not seen the Professor
at other times, when he spoke of this friendship
of his. It was certainly a warm one, and,
then feeling that there must be reason for
it, she began to see these reasons for herseif,
and appreciate something of their significance
and value.

The change which finally revealed itself in
her manner was so subtle in its character that
Arbuthnot himself could not be sure when he
had first feit it ; sometimes he fancied it had
been at one time, and again at another, and
even now it was not easy for him to explain
to himself why he knew that they were better
friends.

But there was an incident in their ac-
quaintance which he always remembered as
a land-mark.

This incident occurred at the close of the
season. One bright moonlight night, having a
fancy for making a call upon Bertha, who was

VOL. IIT. D

34 Through One Administration.

not well enough to go out for several days,
Mrs. Sylvestre made the visit on foot, accom-
panied by her maid. The night was so pleasant
that they were Walking rather slowly under the
trees near Lafayette Park, when their attention
was attracted by the sound of suppressed
sobbing, which came from one of two figures
Standing in the shadow, near the railings, a few
yards ahead of them. The figures were those
of a man and a young woman, and the instant
she saw the man, who was well-dressed, Agnes
Sylvestre feit her heart leap in her side, for
she recognised Laurence Arbuthnot. He stood
quite near the woman, and seemed trying to
console or control her, while she — less a
woman than a girl, and revealing in her
childish .face and figure all that is most pa-
thetic in youth and helplessness — wept and
wrung her hands.

" You must be quiet and have more confi-

dence in " Agnes heard Arbuthnot say ;

and then, prompted by some desperate desire
to hear no more and to avoid being seen, she
spoke to her maid.

" Marie," she said, " we will^cross the street/'

But, when they had crossed the street, some

chill in the night air seemed to have Struck

Dawning Love. 35

ter, and she began to shiver so that Marie
looked at her in sorae aifright.

*^ Madame is cold/' she said. " Is it possible
that madame has a chill ? "

" I am afraid so," her mistress replied, turn-
ing about hurriedly. *^ I will not make the
^dsit. I will return home/'

A few minutes later, Mrs. Merriam, who had
settled her small figure comfortably in a large
arm-chair by the fire, and had prepared to spend
the rest of the evening with a new book, looked
up from its first chapter in amazement as her
üiece entered the room.

" Agnes ! " she exclaimed, ^' what has häp-
pened ? Are you ill ? Why, child I you are
as white as a lily."

It was true that Mrs. Sylvestre's fair face
had lost all trace of its always delicate colour,
and that her hands trembled as she drew off
her gloves.

" I began — suddenly — to feel so cold," she
said, " that I thought it better to come back."

Mrs. Merriam rose anxiously.

" I hope it is not malaria, after all," she said.
" I shall begin to think the place is as bad as
Eome. You must have some hot wine."

'* Send it up stairs, if you please," said Agnes.

D 2

36 Through One Administration.

*' I am going to my room : there is a large fire
there."

And she went out as suddenly as she had
appeared.

*' I really believe she does not wish me to
follow her," said Mrs. Merriam to hersel£ " Is
this malaria ? " And having pondered upon
this question, while she gave Orders that the
wine should be heated, she returned to her
book after doing it, with the decision, " No
it is not.'*

Agnes drank very little of the wine when it
was brought. She sat by the fire in her room
and did not regain her colour. The cold
which had Struck her had Struck very deep ;
she feit as if she could not soon get warm
again. Her eyes had a stern look as they
rested on the fire ; her delicate mouth was set
into a curve of hopeless, bitter scom ; the
quiet which settled upon her was even a Uttle
terrible, in some mysterious way. She heard
a ring at the door-bell, but did not move,
though she knew a caller was allowed to go to
Mrs. Merriam. She was not in the mood to
see callers ; she could see nobody ; she wished
to be left alone. But, in about half an hour,
a servant came to her room

Dawning Love. 37

"Mr. Arbuthnot is down stairs, and Mrs.
Merriam wishes to know if Mrs. Sylvestre is
better/'

Mrs. Sylvestre hesitated a second before she
repHed.

" Say to Mrs. Merriam that I am better, and
wiU join her."

She was as white as ever when she rose,
even a shade whiter, and she feit like marble,
though she no longer trembled.

*'I will go down," she said, mechanically.
** Yes, I will go down.".

What she meant to say or do when she
entered the room below, perhaps she had not
clearly decided herseif. As she came in, and
Arbuthnot rose to receive her, he feit a startled
thrill of apprehension and surprise.

** I am afraid you are not reaUy better," he
said. " Perhaps I should not have asked to
be allowed to see you."

He had suddenly an absurd feeling that
there was such distance between them — that
something inexplicable had set them so far
apart that it might almost be necessary to raise
his voice to make her hear him.

" Thank you," she replied. " I was not
really ill," and passed the chair he oflFered

38 Through One Administra^tion.

her, as if not seeing it, taking another one
which placed the table between them.

Arbuthnot gave her a steady glance and sat
down himself. Kesohnng in a moment's time
that something incomprehensible had happened,
he gathered himself together with another re-
solve which did equal credit to his intelligence
and presence of mind. This resolution was
that he would not permit himself to be over-
borne by the mystery until he understood
what it was, and that he would understand
what it was before he left the house, if such a
thing were possible. He had the coolness and
courage to refiise to be misunderstood.

" I should not have hoped to see you," he
Said, in a quiet, level tone, still watching her,
^^ but Mrs. Merriam was so kind as to think
you would be interested in something I came
to teil you."

" Of course she will be interested," said
Mrs. Merriam. " Such a story would interest
any woman. Teil it to her at once."

" I wish you would do it for me," said
Arbuthnot, with a rather reluctant accession
of gravity. " It is really out of my line. You
will make it touching — women see things so
differently. I'U confess to you that I only see

Dawning Love. 39

the miserable, sordid, forlorn side of it, and
don't know what to do with the pathos.
When the poor little wretch cried at me and
wrung her hands, I had not the remotest idea
what I ought to say to stop her — and heaven
knows I wanted her to stop. I could only
make the mistaken remark that she must have
confidence in me, and I would do my best for
the childish, irresponsible pair of them —
though why they should have confidence in
me I can only say ^ heaven knows,' again."

After she had seated herseif, Agnes had
lightly rested her head upon her hand as if to
shade her eyes somewhat. When Arbuthnot
began to speak, she had stirred, dropping her
hand a moment later and leaning forward ; at
this juncture she rose from her chair, and came
forward with a swift, unconscious-looking
movement. She stood up before Arbuthnot
and spoke to him.

" I wish to hear the story very much," she
seid, with a thrill of appeal in her sweet voice.
^* I wish you to teil it to me. You will teil it
as — as we should hear it."

Nothing but a prolonged and severe course
of training could have enabled Arbuthnot to
preserve at this moment his outward com-

40 Throügh One Administration.

posure. Indeed he was by no means sure
that it was preserved intact ; he was a&aid
that his blonde countenance flushed a little,
and that his eyes were not entirely steady.
He feit it necessary to assume a lightness of
demeanour entirely out of keeping with his
mental condition.

" I appreciate your confidence in me," he
answered, "all the more because I feel my
entire inadequaey to the Situation. The per-
son who could teil it as you ought to hear it,
is the young woman who waylaid me with
tears near Lafayette Park about half an hour
ago. She is a very young woman, in fact, an
infant, who is legally united in marriage to
another infant, who has been in the employ
of the Government, in the building I adom
with my presence. Why they feit it ineum-
bent upon themselves to marry on an income
of seventy-five dollars a month they do not
explain in any manner at all satisfactory to
the worldly mind. They did so, however, and
lived together for several months in what is
described as a State of bliss. They had two
small rooms, and the female infant wore calico
gowns, and did her own ridiculous, sordid,
inferior housework, and rejoieed in the society

Dawning Love. 41

of the male Infant when a gratefui nation
released him from his daUy labours."

Agnes quietly slipped into the chair he had
first placed for her. She did it with a gentle
yielding movement, to which he was so little
blind that he paused a second and looked at
the fire, and made a point of resuming his
Story with a lighter air than before.

" They could not have been either happy
or content under such absurd circumstances,"
he Said, " but they thought they were. I
used to see the male infant beaming over his
labours in a manner to infuriate you. His wife
used to come down to bear him from the office
to the two rooms in a sort of triumphal pro-
cession. She had round eyes and dimples in
her cheeks, and a little round head with
curls. Her husband, whose tastes were sim-
ple, regarded her as a beauty, and was given
to confiding his opinion of her to his fellow-
clerks. There was no objection to him but
his youth and innocence. I am told he
worked with undue enthusiasm in the hope
of keeping his position, or even getting a
better one, and had guileless, frenzied dreams
of being able in the course of the ensuing
Century to purchase a small house 'on time.'

42 Through One Administration.

I don't ask you to believe me when I teil you
that the pair actually had such a house in
their imbecile young minds, and had saved
out of their starvation income a few doUars
towards making their first payment on it. I
didn't beHeve the man who told me, and I
assure you he is a far more reliable fellow
than I am."

He paused a second more. Was it possible
that he found himself obliged to do so ?

"They said," he added, "they said they
' wanted a home.' "

He heard a soft little sound at his side —
a soft, emotional little sound. It came from
Mrs. Sylvestre. She sat with her slender
hands clasped upon her knee, and as the little
sound broke from her Ups, she clasped them
more closely.

'' Ah ! " she said. '' Ah I poor children ! "

Arbuthnot went on.

'' Ought I to blush to admit that I watched
these two young candidates for Saint Eliza-
beth, and the poor house, with interest ?
They assisted me to beguile away some weary
hours in speculation. I wondered when they
would begin to be tired of each other ; when
they would find out their mistake, and loathe

Dawning Love. 43

the paltriness of their surroundings ; when the
female infant would discover that her dimples
might have beert better invested, and that
calico gowns were unworthy of her charms ?
I do blush to confess that I scraped an ac-
quaintance with the male infant, with a view
to drawing forth his views on matrimony and
life as a whole. He had been wont to smoke
inferior cigarettes in the days of his gay and
untrammelled bachelorhood, but had given up
the luxurious habit on engaging himself to
the object of his affections. He remarked to
me that ' a man ought to have principle
enough to deny himself things when he had
something to deny himself for, and when a
man had a wife and a home he had some-
thing to deny himself for, and if he was a man
he'd do it.' He was very ingenuous, and very
fond of enlarging confidingly upon domestie
topics and virtues and . joys, and being en-
couraged, could be relied upon so to enlarge
— always innocently and with inoffensive
youthful enthusiasm — until deftly headed off
by the soulless worldling. I gave him cigars,
and an order of attention, which seemed to
please him. He remarked to his fellow-clerks
that I was a man who had ' principles ' and

44 Through One Administration.

* feelings/ consequently I feit grateful to him.
He had great confidence in ^ principles/ The
bold thought had presented itself to him that
if we were more govemed by * principles/ as
a nation, we should thrive better, and there
would be less diflSculty in steering the ship
of State ; but he advanced the opinion hesi-
tantly, as fearing injustice to his country in
the Suggestion."

" You are making him very attractive,"
Said Mrs. Merriam. *^ There is something
touching about it all."

" He was attractive to me," retumed
Laurence, " and he was touching at times.
He was crude, and by no means brilliant, but
there wasn't an evü spot in him, and his
beliefs were of a strength and magnitude to
bring a blush to the cheek of the most
hardened. He recalled the dreams of youth,
and even in his most unintelligently ardent
moments appealed to one. Taking all these
things into consideration, you will probably see
that it was likely to be something of a blow to
him to find himself suddenly thrown out upon
the World without any resource whatever,"

" Ah I " exclaimed Mrs. Sylvestre, earnestly.
" Surely you are not going to teil us ? "

Dawning Love. 45

" That he lost his office," said Laurence.
**Yes. Thrown out. Eeason — place wanted
fbr some one eise. I shouldn^t call it a good
reason myself. I find others who would not
call it a good reason ; but what are you going
todo?"

What did he do ? " asked Agnes.
He came into my room one day/'
answered Laurence, "just as I was leaving
it. He was white, and his lips trembled in a
boyish way that Struck me at the moment as
being rather awful. He looked as if he had
be.en knocked down. He said to me, 'Mr.
Arbuthnot, IVe lost my place,' and then, after
staring at me a few seconds, he added, * Mr.
Arbuthnot, what would you do ? ' "

" It is very cruel,'' said Agnes. " It is very
hard.''

" It is as cruel as Death ! " said Arbuthnot.
'' It is as hard as Life I That such a thing is
possible — that the bread and home and hopes
of any honest human creature should be used
as the small change of power above him, and
trafl&cked with to sustain that power and fix
it in its place to make the most of itself and
its greed, is the burning shame and bürden
which is slung around our necks, and will

46 Thkough One Administration.

keep HS from standing with heads erect until
we are lightened of it."

He discovered that he was in eamest, and
recklessly allowed himself to continue in
eamest until he had said his say. He
knew the self-indulgence was indiscreet, and
feit the indiscretion aU the more when he
ended and found himself confronted by Mrs.
Sylvestre's eyes. They were fixed upon him,
and wore an expression he had never had the
pleasure of seeing in them before. It was an
expression füll of charming emotion, and the
colour was Coming and going in her cheek.

" Go on," she said, rather tremulously, ** if
you please."

" I did not go on," he replied. " I regret
to say I couldn't. I was imable to teil him
whät I should do."

*'But you tried to comfort him?" said
Agnes. ** I am sure you did what you
could."

" It was very little," said Laurence. ** I
let him talk, and led him on a little to — well
to talking about his wife. It seemed the
only thing for the moment. I found it pos-
sible to recall to his mind one or two things
he had told me of her— probably doing it in

Dawning Love. 47

the most inefficient manner — but he appeared
to appreciate the effort. The idea presented
itself to me that it would be well to brace him
up and give him a less deathly look before he
went home to her, as she was not very well,
and a childish creature at best. I probably
encouraged him unduly, but I had an absurd
sense of being somehow responsible for the
preservation of the two rooms and the peace
of mind of the female infant, and the truth is,
I have feit it evgr since, and so has she."

He was extremely conscious of Mrs.
Sylvestre's soft and earnest eyes.

" That was the reason she called to see me
to-night, and finding I had just left the house,
foUowed me. Tom is ill — his name is Tom
Bosworth. It is nearly two months since he
lost his place, and he has walked himself to a
shadow in making eiforts to gain another. He
has written letters and presented letters ; he
has stood outside doors until he was faint
with hunger ; he has interviewed members of
congress, Senators, heads of departments,
officials great and small. He has hoped and
longed and waited, and taken buffetings
meekly. He is not a strong fellow, and it
has broken him up. He has had severaJ

48 Through One Administration.

Chilis, and is thin and nervous and excitable.
Batty — his wife's name is Kitty — is pale and
thin too. She has lost her dimples, and her
eyes look like a sad little owFs, and always
have tears in them which she manages to
keep from falling so long as Tom is within
sight. To-night she wanted to ask me if I
knew any ladies who would give her sewing.
She thinks she might sew until Tom gets
a place again."

" I will give her sewipg," exclaimed
Agnes. " I can do something for them if
they will let me ! Oh, I am very glad that
I can."

" I feit sure you would be/* said Arbuthnot.
'^ I thought of you at once, and wished you
could see her as I saw her."

She answered him a little hurriedly, and he
wondered why her voice faltered.

" I will see her to-morrow," she said, '* if
you will give me the address."

'^I have naturally wondered if it was
possible that anything could be done for
the husband," he said. "If you could use
your influence in any way — you see how
inevitably we come to that — it always
becomes a question of influence — our very

Dawning Love. 49

charities are of the nature of schemes ; it is
in the air we breathe."

" I will do what I can," she replied. " I
will do anjrtliing — anything you think would
be best."

Mrs. Merriam checked herseif on the very
verge of looking up, but though by an eflFort
she confined herseif to apparently giving all
her attention to her knitting-needles for a few
moments, she lost the effect of neither words
nor voice. " No," she made mental comment,
" it was not malaxia."

Arbuthnot had never passed such an evening
in the house as this one proved to be, and he
had spent many agreeable evenings there.
To-night there was a difference. Some barrier
had melted or suddenly broken down. Mrs.
Sylvestre was more beautiful than he had
ever seen her. It thrilled his very soul to
hear her speak to him and to look at her.
While still entirely Ignorant of the cause of
her displeasure against him, he knew that it
was removed; that in some mysterious way
she had recognised the injustice of it, and was
impelled by a sweet, generous penitence to
endeavour to make atonement. There was
something almost like the humility of appeal

VOL. III. E

50 Throügh One Administration.

in her voice and eyes. She did not leave him
to Mrs. Memam, but talked to him herseif.
When he went away, after he had left her at
the parlour door, she lingered a moment upon
the threshold, then crossed it, and followed
him into the hall. They had been speaking
of the Bosworths, and he fancied she was
going to ask some last question. But she did
not ; she simply paused a short distance from
where he stood and looked at him. He had
often observed it in her, that she possessed
the inestimable gift of being able to stand
still and remain silent with perfect grace, in
such a manner that speech and movement
seemed unnecessary ; but he feit that she had
something to say now and scarcely knew how
best to say it, and it occurred to him that he
might, perhaps, help her.

" You are very much better than you were
when I came in," he said.

She put out her band with a gentle, almost
grateful gesture.

**Yes, I am much better," she said. **I
was not well then — or happy. I thought
that I had met with a misfortune ; but it was
a mistake."

" I am glad that it was a mistake/' he

Dawning Love. 51

answered. " I hope such things will always
prove so."

And a quick flush rising to his face, he
beut and touched with his lips the slim, white
fingers lying upon his palm.

The flush had not died away when he found
himself in the street ; he feit its glow with a
sense of anger and impatience.

** I might have known better than to do
such a thing," he said. " I did know better.
I am a fool yet, it seems — a fool ! "

But, notwithstanding this, the evening was
a landmark From that time forward Mrs.
Merriam looked upon their intimacy with
renewed interest. She found Agnes very
attractive in the new attitude she assumed
towards their acquaintance. She indulged no
longer in her old habit of depreciating him
delicately when she spoke of him — which was
rarely ; her tone suggested to her relative
that she was desirous of atoning to herseif
for her past coldness and injustice. There
was a deücious hint of this in her manner
towards him, quiet as it was ; once or twice
Mrs. Merriam had seen her defer to him, and
display a disposition to adapt herseif to his
opinions, which caused a smile to flicker

E 2

52 Throügh One Administration.

across her discreet countenance. Their mutual
interest in their protSgSs was a tie between
them, and developed a degree of intimacy
which had never before existed. The day
after hearing their story, Agnes had paid the
young people a visit. The two rooms in the
third story of a boarding-house presented
their modest household goods to her very
touchingly. The very bridal newness of the
cheap fumiture Struck her as being pathetic,
and the unsophisticated adomments in the
form of chromos and bright tidies — ^the last
Kitty's own handiwork — expressed to her
mind their innocent sentiment. Kitty looked
new herself, as she sat sewing in a little
rocking-chair drawn near to the sofa on
which Tom lay, äushed and bright-eyed, after
his chill ; but there were premonitory signs
of wear on her pretty childish face. She
rose, evidently terribly nervous and very
much frightened at the prospect of receiving
her visitor, when Mrs. Sylvestre entered, and
though reassured somewhat by the mention of
Arbuthnot's name, glanced timorously at Tom
in appeal for assistance from him. Tom gave
it. His ingenuous mind knew very little fear.
He tried to stagger to his feet, smiling, but was

Dawxixg Love. 53

so dizzy that he made an ignominious faüure,
and sat down again at Agnes's eamest
request,

" Thank you," he said. " I will if you don't
mind. It's one of my bad days, and the fever
makes my head go round. Don't look so
down-hearted, Kitty. Mrs. Sylvestre knows
Chilis don't count for mach. You see " — he
said to Agnes, with an effort at buoyaney of
manner — *'they knock a man over a little,
and it frightens her."

Agnes took a seat beside the little rocking-
cbair, and there was something in the very
gentleness of her movements which somewhat
calmed Kitty 's tremor.

"It is very natural that she should feel
anxious, even when there is only slight cause/'
Mrs. Sylvestre said, in her low, sweet voice .
" Of course, the cause is slight in your case.
It is only necessary that you should be a
little careful."

"That's all," responded Tom. "And I'm
going to be carefuL A man with a wife and
home can't be too careful. He's got others
to think of besides himself."

But, notwithstanding his cheerfulness and
his bright eyes, he was plainly weaker than

54 Through One Administration.

he realised, and was rather glad to lie down
again, though he did it apologetically.

" Mr. Arbuthnot came in this morning and
told US you were Coming," he said. *'You
know him pretty well, I suppose."

" I see him rather frequently," answered
Agnes ; " but perhaps I do not know him
very well."

" Ah ! " said Tom. " YouVe got to know
him very well to find out what sort of
fellow he is ; youVe got to know him
as I know him — as we know him. Eh !
Kitty ? "

"Yes," responded Kitty, a little startled
by finding herseif referred to, " only you
know him best, Tom. You see, you're a

man — "

iC

Yes," said Tom, with innocent com-
placency, " of course it's easier for men to
understand eaeh other. You see — " to Agnes,
though with a fond glance at Kitty — " Kitty
was a little afraid of him. She's shy, and
hasn't Seen much of the world, and he's such
a swell, in a quiet way, and when she used to
come to the office for me, and caught a glimpse
of him, she thought he was always making fun
of everything."

Dawning Love. 55

" I thought he looked as if he was," put in
Kitty. *^And his voice sounded that way
when he spoke to you, Tom. I even used to
think, sometimes, that he was laughing a little
at you — and I didn't like it."

" Bless you ! " responded Tom, " he wasn't
thinking of such a thing. He's got too much
principle to jnake friends with a fellow and
then laugh at him. What IVe always liked
in him was his principle."

" I think there are a great many things to
like in him," said Mrs. Sylvestre.

"There's everything to like in him," said
Tom, " though, you see, I didn't find that out
at first. The truth is, I thought he was rather
too much of a swell for his means. IVe told
him so since weVe been more intimate, and
he said that I was not mistaken, that he was
too much of a swell for his means, but that
was the fault of his means, and the Govern-
ment ought to attend to it, as a sacred duty.
You see the trouble is he hasn't a family. If
he was married, and had some one to take
care of, it would be diflferent. And what a
fellow he would be to take care of a woman I
I told him that, too, once, and he threw back
his head and laughed ; but he didn't laugh

56 Through One Administration.

long. It seemed to me that it set him off
thinking, he was so still after it."

" He'd be very good to his wife," said Kitty,
timidly. " He's very kind to me."

" Yes," Tom went on, rejoicing in Mmself,
" he sees things that men don't see, generally.
Think of his noticing that you weren't wrapped
up enough that eold day we met him, and
going into his place to get a shawl from his
landlady, and making me put it on 1 "

"And don't you remember," said Kitty,
" the day he made me so ashämed, because
he said my basket was too heavy, and would
carry it all the way home for me ? "

Tom laughed triumphantly.

"He would have carried a stove-pipe, just
the same way," he said, "and have looked
just as cool about it. You'd no need to be
ashamed ; he wasn't. And it's not only that :
see how he asks me about you, and cheers
me up, and helps me along, by talking to
me about you when Tm knocked over, and
says that you mustn't be troubled, and I
must bear up, because IVe got you to take
care of, and that when two people are as
fond of each other as we are, theyVe got
something to hold on to that will help them

%

Dawning Love. 57

to let the World go by and endure anythiiig
that don't part them."

«

" He Said that to me, too, Tom," said Kitty,
the ready tears starting to her eyes. "He
said it last night when I met him in the
Street and couldn't help crying because you
were iU. He said I must bear up for you —
and he was so nice that I forgot to be afraid
of him at all. When I began to cry it fright-
ened me, because I thought he wouldn't like
it, and that made it so much worse that I
couldn't stop, and he just put my hand on
bis arm, and took me into Lafayette Park,
where there was a seat in a dark comer under
the trees. And he made me sit down and
said, * Don't be afraid to cry. It will do you
good, and you had better do it before me
than before Tom. Cry as much as you like.
1 wül walk away a few steps until you are
better.' And he did, and I cried until I was
quiet, and then he came back to me, and told
me about Mrs. Sylvestre."

" He's got feelings," said Tom, a trifle
brokenly, ^' he's got feelings and — and princi-
ples. It makes a man think better of the
World, even when he's discouraged, and it's
dealt hard with him."

53 Theough One Administration.

Mrs. Sylvestre looked out of the nearest
window ; there was a very feminine tremor
in her throat, and something seemed to be
melting before her eyes ; she was ftdl of the
pain of regret and repentance ; there rose in
her mind a picture of herseif as she had sat
before the fire in her silent room ; she could
not endure the memory of her own bitter
contempt and scom; she wished she might
do something to make up for that half hour ;
she wished that it were possible that she might
drive down to the Treasury and present her-
seif at a certain door, and appeal for pardon
with downcast eyes and broken voiee. She
was glad to remember the light touch upon
her hand, even though it had been so very
light, and he had left her after it so hurriedly.

" I am glad he spoke to you of me," she
Said. " I — I am grateful to him. I think I
can help you. I hope you will let me. I
know a great many people, and I might ask
for their influence. I will do anything —
anything Mr. Arbuthnot thinks best.*'

Tom gave her a warmly grateful glance,
his susceptible heart greatly moved by the
sweetness and tremor of her voice. She was
just the woman, it seemed to him, to be the

Dawning Love. 59

friend of such a man as his hero ; only a
woman as beautiful, as sympathetic, and
having that delicate, undefinable air of be-
longing to the great enchanted world, in which
he confidingly believed Arbuthnot figured
with unrivalled eflFect, could be worthy of
him. It was characteristic of his simple
uature that he should admire immensely his
friend's social popularity and acquirements,
and dwell upon their unbounded splendour
with affectionate reverence.

"He's a Society fellow/' he had said to
Kitty in his first description of him. *'A
regulär society fellow 1 Always dressed just
so, you know — sort of quiet style, but exactly
up to the mark. He knows everybody and
gets invited everywhere, though he makes
believe he only gets taken in because he can
dance and wait in the supper room. He*s out
somewhere every night, bless you, and spends
half his salary on kid gloves and flowers. He
says people ought to supply them to fellows
like him, as they supply gloves and hat-bands
at English funerals. He doesn't save any-
thing ; you know, he can't, and he knows it's
a mistake, but you see when a fellow is what
he is, it's not easy to break off with every-

60 THROuaH One Administration.

thing. These society people want such fellows,
and they will have them/'

It had been this liberal description of his
exalted position and elegant habits, which
had caused Kitty to stand greatly in awe of
him, at the outset, and to feel that her bearing
would never stand the test of criticism by
so proficient an expert, and she had trembled
before him accordingly and feit herseif un-
worthy of his condescending notice, until
having, on one or two oecasions, seen some-
thing in his manner which did not exactly
coincide with her conception of him as a
luxurious and haughty worldling, she had
gained a little courage. She had been greatly
alarmed at the sight of Mrs. Sylvestre,
feeling vaguely that she, also, was a part of
these mysterious splendours ; but after she
heard the soft break in the tone in which
she Said, with such gentle simplicity, " I
will do anything — anything — Mr. Arbuthnot
thinks best,'' she feit timorous no more, and
allowed herseif to be led into telling her little
story, with a girlish pathos which would have
melted Agnes Sylvestre's heart, if it had not
been melted already. It might, perhaps,
better have been called Tom's story than her

Dawkiütg Love. 61

^^n, as it was all about Tom — Tom's struggles,

^om's disappointments, Tom's hopes, which

all seemed prostrated ; the little house Tom

had been thinking of buying and making nice

for her ; the member of Congress who had

snubbed Tom ; the Senator who had been

rough with him ; the cold he häd taken ; the

Chilis and fevers which had resulted ; the pain

in his side. " We have used all our money/'

she ended, with a touching little catch of her

breath — " if it had not been for Mr. Arbuthnot

— ^Mr. Arbuthnot — "

"Yes/' Said Tom, wofuUy, '^he'll have to
gü without a pair or. so of gloves this month
and smoke fewer cigars ; and I couldn't have
believed that there was a man living I could
have bome to take money from, but, some-
how, he made it seem almost as if he owed
it me/'

When Mrs. Sylvestre went away she left
hope and comfort behind her. Kitty foUowed
her into the passage with new light in her
eyes.

** If I have the sewing," she said, clasping
her hands, *^ it will be such a load oif Tom's
mind to know that we have a little money,
that he will get better. And he knows I like

62 Through One Administration.

sewing, so, perhaps, he will not mind it
much. I am so thankful to you 1 If Toi^^
will only get well," she exclaimed in a brokeir^
whisper, " if Tom will only get well 1 " And^ ^
suddenly, in response to some look on Agnes'^^
face, and a quick, caressing gesture, she leaned^
forward and was folded in her arms.

It is very natural to most women to resort
to the simple feminine device of tears, but
it was not often Mrs. Sylvestre so indulged
herseif, and there were tears in her eyes and in
her voice, too, as she held the gentle, childish
creature to her breast. She had feit a great
deal, during the last twenty-four hours, and
the momentary display of emotion was a relief
to her. " He will get better," she said, witb
almost maternal tenderness, ** and you must
help him by taking care of yourself and giving
him no cause for anxiety. You must let me
help to take care of you. We will do all we
can — " and there was something akin to fresh
relief to her in the mere use of the little
Word "we."

CHAPTER IIL

ON THE RIVER.

Mrs. Merriam saw faint traces of tears in
Mrs. Sylvestre's eyes when she retumed from
her call on the Bosworths, and speculated,
with some wonder as to what her exact mental
condition was, but asked very few questions,
feehng that, upon the whole, she would prefer
to hear the version of the story given to
Mr. Arbuthnot when he called. He did so
the foUowing evening, and, having seen the
Bosworths in the interval, had comments of
his own to make.

" It was very good in you to call so soon,"
he Said to Agnes.

" I wished very much to call,'' she replied.
" I could not have waited longer."
. " You left a transcendent Impression," said
Arbuthnot. " Tom was very enthusiastic, and

64 Throüoh One Administration.

Kitty feels that all their troubles are things
of the past."

" They talked to me a great deal of you,"
Said Agnes. " I feit after hearing them that
I had not known you very well — and wished
that I had known you better."

She Said it with a sweet gravity which he
found strangely disturbing ; but his reply did
not commit him to any special feeling.

" They will prove fatal to me, I see," he
Said. " Don't allow them to prejudice you
against me in that manner.*'

" I wish," she said, ** that my friends
might be prejudiced against me in the same
way."

Then he revealed a touch of eamestness in
spite of himself. They had both been Stand-
ing upon the hearth, and he took a Step
towards her.

" For pity's sake/' he said, " don't over-
rate me ! Women are always too generous.
Don't you see you will find me out, and then
it will be worse for me than before."

She stood in one of her perfect, motionless
attitudes, and looked down at the rüg.

" I wish to find you out," she said, slowly.
" I have done you injustice."

On THE ElVER. 65

And .then slie turned away and walked
across the room to a table where there were
some books, and when she retumed she
brought one of them with her and began to
speak of it. He always feit afterwards tbat
the memory of this " injustice," as she called
it, was constantly before her, and he would
have been more than human if he had not
frequently wondered what it was. He eould
not help feeling that it had taken a definite
form, and that she had been betrayed into it
on the evening he had first spoken to her of
the Bosworths, and that somehow his story
had saved him in her eyes. But he naturally
forbore to ask questions or even touch upon
the subject, and thanked the gods for the good
whieh befell him as a result of the evil he had
escaped. And yet, as the jtime passed by,
and he went oftener to the house and found
keener pleasure in each visit, he had his
seasons of fearing that it was not all going
to be gain for him ; when he faced the truth,
iüdeed, he knew that it was not all gain,
and yet he was not stoic enough to turn his
back and fly.

" It will cost 1 " he said to himself. " It
will cost ! But r

VOL. III. F

66 Through One Administration.

And then he would set his lips together and
be silent for an hour or so, and those of his
acquaintance who demanded constant vivacity
from him, began to wonder among themselves
if he was quite the fellow he had been. If
the friendship was pleasant during the seasoji,
it was pleasanter when the gaieties ceased
and the spring set in, with wanner air and
sunshine, and leaves and blossoms in the
parks. There was a softness in the atmos-
phere not eonducive to stemness of purpose
and self-denial. As he walked to and from
his office, he found his thoughts wandering in
paths he feit were dangerous, and once unex-
pectedly meeting Mrs. Sylvestre, when so
indulging himself, he started and gained such
sudden colour that she flushed also, and,
having stopped jto speak to him, forgot what
she had intended to say, and was a little
angry, both with herseif and him, when a
confusing pause followed their greeting.

Their interest in the Bosworths was a tie
between them which gave them much in
common. Agnes went to see them often,
and took charge of Kitty, watching over and
caring for her in a tender, half-matemal
fashion, Arbuthnot took private pleasure in

On THE ElVER. 67

conteinplating. He liked to hear Kitty talk
about her, and, indeed, had on more than
one occasion led her with some dexterity
into doing so. It was through Kitty, at last,
that his mystery was solved for him.

This happened in the spring. There had
been several warm days, one so UDUsually
warm, at last, that in the evening Mrs.
Sylvestre aeeepted his invitation to spend
an hour or so on the river with Ijim. On
their way there they stopped to leave a basket
of fruit for Tom, whose condition was far from
being what they had hoped for, and while
making their call Kitty made a remark which
caused Arbuthnot's pulse to accelerate its pace
somewhat.

" When you saw me crying in the street

that night " she began, addressing Agnes.

Arbuthnot turned upon her quickly.

'' What night ? " he asked.

"The night you took me into Lafayette
Square," said Kitty ; " Mrs. Sylvestre saw
me, though I did not know it until yester-
day. She was going to call on Mrs. Amory,
and "

Arbuthnot looked at Agnes ; he could not
have forborne, whatever the look had cost

F 2

68 Throuoh One Administration.

him. The colour came into her cheek and
died out.

" Did you ? " he demanded.

'* Yes," she answered, and rose and walked
to the window, and stood there perfectly stilL

Arbuthnot did not hear the remainder of
Kitty's remarks. He replied to them blindly,
and as soon as possible leffc his chair and went
to the window himself.

" If ypu are ready, perhaps we had better
go," he Said,

They went out of the room and down the
stairs in silence. He wanted to give himself
time to collect his thoughts, and get the upper
hand of a frantic feeling of passionate anger
which had taken possession of him. If he had
spoken he might have said something savage,
which he would have repented afterwards in
sackcloth and ashes. His sense of the in-
justice he had suffered, however momentary,
at the hands of this woman whose opinion he
cared for, was natural, masculine, and fierce.
He saw everything in a flash, and for a
moment or so forgot all eise in his bittemess
of spirit. But his usual coolness came to the
rescue when this moment was past, and he
began to treat himself scornfuUy as was his

On THE ElVER. 69

custom. There was no reason why she

should not think ill of him, circumstances

evidently having been against him, he said to

himself ; she knew nothing specially good of

him ; she had all grounds for regarding him

as a creature with neither soul nor purpose

nor particularly fixed principles, and with no

other objeet in life than the gratification of his

faneies ; why should she believe in him against

a rather black array in the form of facts. It

was not agreeable, but why blame her ? He

would not blame her or indulge in any such

personal folly. Then he glanced at her and

saw that the colour had not come back to her

face. When he roused himself to utter a civil

commonplace remark or so, there was the

sound of fatigue in her voice when she

answered him, and it was very low. She did

not seem inclined to talk, and he had the

consideration to leave her to herseif as much

as possible until they reached the boat-house.

He arranged her cushions and wraps in the

boat with care and dexterity, and, when he

took the oars, feit that he had himself pretty

well in band. The river was very quiet, and

the last glow of sunset red was slowly

changing to twilight purple on the water ; a

70 Throuoh One Administration.

ßickle-shaped moon hung in the sky, and
somewhere farther up the shore a night bird
was uttering brief, plaintive cries. Agnes sat
at the end of the boat, with her face a little
turned away, as if she were listening to the
sound. Arbuthnot wondered if she was, and
thought again that she *looked tired and a
little pathetic. If he had known all her
thoughts he would have feit the pathos in
her eyes a thousand times more keenly.

She had a white hyacinth in her hand»
whose odour seemed to reach him more
powerfuUy at each stroke of the oars, and at
last she turned and spoke, looking down at
the flower.

" The saddest things that are left to one
of a bitter experience," she said, in a low
voice, ** are the knowledge and distrust that
come of it/'

" They are very natural results," he replied,
briefly.

" Oh, they are very hard ! " she exclaimed:
" They are very hard ! They leave a stain
on all one's life, and — and it can never be
wiped away. Sometimes I think it is im-
possible to be generous — to be kind — ^to trust
at all "

On THE KlVER. 71

Her voice broke ; she put her hands up
before her face, and he saw her tremble.

" One may have been innocent," she said,
"and have believed — and thought no evil —
but after one has been so stained "

He stopped rowing.

" There is no staiü," he said. ** Don't call
it one/'

" It must be one," she said, " when one
sees evil — ^and is suspicious and on the alert
to discover wrong. But it brings suflFering,
as if it were a punishment* I have suflFered."

He paused a second and answered, looking
backward over his Shoulder.

" So did I — for a moment," he said. " But
it is over now. Don't think of me."

" I must think of you," she said. *' How
could I help it ? "

She tumed a little more towards him and
leaned forward, the most exquisite appeal in
her delicate face, the most exquisite pathos
in her unsteady voice.

« If I ask you to forgive me," she said,
" you will only say that I was forgiven before
I asked. I know that. I wish I could say
something eise. I wish— I wish I knew what
I» do."

72 I'hroügh One Administration.

He looked up the river and down, and
tbcn suddenly at her. The set, miserable
expression of his face startled her and caitsed
her to make an involuntary movement.

" Don't do anything — don't say anything ! ^
he Said. " I can bear it better."

And he bent himself to his oars and rowed
furiously.

She drew back and tumed her face aäde.
Abrupt as the words were, there was no rebuff
in them ; but there was something eke which
silenced her effectually. She was glad of the
faint light, and her heart quickened, which
last demonstration did not please her. She
had been calm too long to enjoy any new
feeling of excitement ; she had liked the
calmness, and had desired beyond all things
that it should remain undisturbed.

" There is one prayer I pray every mom-
ing," she liad once said to Bertha, earnestly.
" It is that the day may bring nothing to
change the tone of my life."

She had feit a little ripple in the current
ever since the eventful night, and had
regretted it sorely, and now, just for the
moment, it was something stronger. So she
was very still as she sat with averted face^

On THE ElVEE. 73

and the hour spent upon the water was a
singularly silent one.

When they retumed home they found
Colonel Tredennis with Mrs. Merriam, but
just on the point of leaving her.

" I am going to see Amory," he said. " I
have heard some news he will consider bad.
The Westoria affair has been laid aside, and
will not be acted upon this Session, if at all.
It is said that Blundel heard something he
did not like, and interfered."

" And you think Mr. Amory will be very
much disappointed 1 " said Agnes.

" I am TLd so," answered Tredennis.

" And yet," said Agnes, " it isn't easy to
see why it should be of so much importance
to him."

" He has become interested in it," said
Mrs. Merriam. " That is the expression, isn't
it ? It is my opinion that it would be better
for him if he were less so. I have seen that
kind of thing before. It is like being bitten
by a tarantula."

She was not favourably inclined toward
Bichard. His sparkling moods did not ex-
hilarate her, and she had her private theories
concemiiig his character. Tredennis she was

74 Thbouoh One Administrä^tion.

very f ond of ; few of his moods escaped her
bright eyes ; few of the changes in him were
lost upon her. When he went away this
evening, she spoke of him to Agnes and
Arbuthnot —

" If that splendid fellow does not improve,"
she Said, "he will begin to grow old in his
prime. He is lean and gaunt ; his eyes are
dreary; he is beginning to have lines on
his forehead and about his mouth. He is
enduring something. I should be glad to be
told what it is."

" Whatever he endured," said Agnes, " he
would not teil people. But I think ' enduring '
is a very good word."

" How long have you known him ? " Mrs.
Merriam asked of Arbuthnot.

"Since the evening after his arrival in
Washington, on his retum from the West,'^
was the reply.

" Was he like this then ? " rather sharply.

Arbuthnot reflected.

" I met him at a reception," he said, " and
he was not Washingtonian in his manner.
My Impression was, that he would not enjoy
our Society, and that he would finally despise
US ; but he looked legs fagged then than hq

1^

On THE ElVEK. 75

does now. Perhaps he begins to long for his
daily Pi-ute. There are chasms which an
effete civilisation does not fiU."

" You guess more than you choose to teil,"
was Mrs. Merriam's inward thought. Aloud,
she Said —

** He is the finest human being it has been
my pleasure to meet. He is the natural man,
K I were a girl again, I think I should make
a hero of him, and be unhappy for his sake."

** It would be easy to make a hero of him,"
Said Agnes.

" Very ! " responded Arbuthnot. " Un-
avoidable, in faet." And he laid upon the
table the bit of hyacinth he had picked up
in the boat, and brought home with him. " If
I carry it away," was his private thought,
** I shaU fall into the habit of sitting and
weakening my mind over it. It is weak
enough already." But he knew, at the same
time, that Colonel Tredennis had done some-
thing towards assisting him to form the reso-
lution. " A trivial masculine v^nity," he
thought, " not unfrequently strengthens one's
Position."

In the meantime, Tredennis went to Amory.
He found him in the room, which was, in its

76 TflRouGH Oke Administration.

every paxt, so strong a reminder of Bertha.
It wore a desolate look, and Amory had
evidently been Walking up and down it, push-
ing chairs and footstools aside carelessly when
he found them in bis way. He had thrown
himself, at last, into Bertha's own special
easy-chair, and leaned back in it, with his
hands thrown out over its padded arms. He
had plainly not slept well the night before,
and his dress had a careless and dishevelled
look, very marked in its contrast with the
eustomary artistic finish of his attire.

He sprang up when he saw Tredennis, and
began to speak at once.

'' I say ! " he exclaimed, " this is terrible ! "

"You have been disappointed," said
Tredennis.

" I have been rui " he checked himself,

" disappointed isn't the word," he ended.
"The whole thing häs been laid aside — laid
aside — think of it 1 — as if it were a mere
nothing ; an application for a two-penny-half-
penny pension ! Great God 1 what do the
fellows think they are dealing with ! *'

" Whom do you think is to blame ? " said
the colonel stolidly.

" Blundel, by Jove, Blundel, that fool and

On THE ElVER. 77.

clown ! " and he flung himself about the room
mumbling his rage and Irritation.

" It is not the first time such a thing has
happened," said Tredennis, " and it won't be
the last If you continue to interest yourself
in such matters, you will find that out, as
others have done before you. Take my advice,
and give it up from this hour/'

Amory wheeled round upon him.

" Give it up 1 " he cried, " I can't give it up,
man 1 It is only laid aside for the time being.
Heaven and earth shall be moved next year —
heaven and earth ! the thing won't fail — it
canH fail — a thing like that ; a thing I have
risked my very soul on ! "

He dashed his hand through his tumbled
hair and threw himself into the chair again,
quite out of breath.

" Ah, confound it ! " he exclaimed. " I am
too excitable 1 I am losing my hold on
myself 1 "

Tredennis rose from his seat, feeling some
movement necessary. He stood and looked
down at the floor. As he gazed up at him,
Amory entered a fretful mental protest against
his size and. his air of being able to control
himself. He was plainly deep in thought

78 Through One Administration.

even when he spoke, for his eyes did not
leave the floor.

"I suppose," he said, "this is really na
business of mine. I wish it was."

" What do you mean ? " said Amory.

Tredennis looked up.

" If it were my business, I would know
more about it," he said ; " I would know what
you mean, and how deep you have gone into
this— this accursed scheme."

The last two words had a sudden ring of
intensity in their sound, which aflfected Amory
tremendously. He sprang up again and began
to pace the floor.

" Nothing ever promised so well," he said,
" and it will tum out all right in the end —
it must I It is the delay that drives one wild.
It will be all right next season — ^when Bertha
is here."

*' What has she to do with it ? " demanded
Tredennis. •

" Nothing very much," said Amory, restively,
'* but she is effective."

" Do you mean that you are going to set
her to lobbying ? "

" Why should you call it that ? I am not
going to set her at anything. She has a good

On THE RiVEIU 79

effect, that is all. Planefield swears that if
she had stayed at home and taken Blundel
in hand lie would not have failed u^/'

Tredennis looked at him stupefied. He
could get no grasp upon him. He wondered
if a heavy mental blow would affect him. He
tried it in despair.

"Do you know/* he said slowly, "what
people are beginning to say about Planefield ? "

"They are always saying something of
Planefield. He is the kind of man who is
always spoken of."

**Then/' said Tredennis, " there is all the
more reason why his name should not be
connected with that of an innocent woman."

"What woman has been mentioned in
connection with him ? "

" It has been said more than once, that he
is in love with — ^your wife, and that his
infatuation is used to advance your interests."

Eichaxd stopped in his walk

V Then it is a confoundedly stupid business,"
he said, angrily. " If she hears it she will never
speak to him again. Perhaps she has heard
it — ^perhaps that was why she insisted on going
away. I thought there was something wrong
at the time."

80 Through One ADMDnsTRA.TiON,

"May I ask," said Tredennis, "how it
strikesyow?"

"Me l".exclainied Richard; "as the most
awkward piece of business in the world, and
as likelyto do me more härm than anything
eise could.'*

He made a graceful, rapid gesture of
impatience.

"Everything goes against mel'^ he said.
** She never liked him from the first, and if she
has heard this she wiU never be civü to him
again, or to any of the rest of theuL And, of
course, she is an influence, in a measure ; what
clever woman is not ? And why should she
not use her influence in one way as well as
another. If she were a clergyman's wife she
would work hard enough to gain favours. It
is only a trifle that she should make an effort
to be agreeable to men who will be pleased
by her civility. She would do it if there were
nothing to be gained. Where are you going ?
What is the matter ? " for Tredennis had
walked to the table and taken his hat.

" I am going into the air," he answered ;
" I am afraid I cannot be of any use to you
to-night My mind is not very clear. just
now. I must have time to think."

On THE Erv^ER. 81

"You look pale," said Amory, staring at
him. " You look ghastly, You have not been
up to the mark for months. I have seen that.
Washington does not agree with you."-

"That is it," was Tredennis's response.
** Washington does not agree with me."

And he carried his hat and his pale and
haggard countenanee out into the night, and
left Richard gazing after him, feverish, fretted,
thwarted in his desire to pour forth his griev-
ances and defend himself, and also filled with
baffled amazement at his sudden departure.

VOL. in. G

CHAPTER IV.

A DINNER PARTY.

Mrs. Amory did not receive on New Yeax*s
day. The season had well set in before she
amved in Washington. One moming in
January, Mrs. Sylvestre, sitting alone, reading,
caught sight of the little cowp^ as it drew up
before the carriage step, and laying aside her
book, reaehed the parlour door in time to meet
Bertha as she entered it. She took both her
hands and drew her towards the fire, still
holding them.

" Why did I not know you had retumed ? "
she Said. ** When did you arrive ? "

" Last night," Bertha answered. " You see
I come to you early."

It was a cold day, and she was muffled in
velvet and fürs. She sat down, loosened her
wrap and let it slip backwards, and as its

A Dinner Party. 83

sumptuous fulness left her figure it revealed
it siender to fragility, and showed that the
outline of her cheek had lost all its round-
ness. She smiled faintly, meeting Agnes's
anxious eyes.

" Don't look at me," she said. ** I am not
pretty. I have been ill. You heard I was
not well in Newport ? It was a sort of low
fever, and I am not entirely well yet. Malaria,
you know, is always troublesome. But you
are very well ? "

" Yes, I am well," Agnes replied,

" And you begin to like Washington again ? "

" I began last winter."

" How did you enjoy the spring ? You were
here until the end of June."

" It was lovely."

" And now you are here once more, and how
pretty everything about you is ! " Bertha said,
glancing round the room. *'And you are
ready to be happy all winter until June again,
Do you know, you look happy ? Not excitably
happy, but gently, calmly happy, as if the
present were enough for you."

" It is," said Agnes. " I don't think I want
any future."

" It would be as well to abolish it if one

G 2

a4 Throuoh One Administration.

could," Bertha answered, "but it comes — it
comes ! "

She sat and looked at the fire a few seconds
under the soft shadow of her lashes, and then
spoke again.

'* As for me," she said, " I am going to give
dinner parties to Senator Planefield's friends."

" Bertha ! " exclaimed Agnes.

"Yes," said Bertha, nodding gently. "It
appears somehow that Kichard belongs to
Senator Planefield, and as I belong to Richard,
why, you see ? ''

She ended with a dramatic little gesture,
and looked at Agnes onee more.

" It took me some time to understand it,"
she said. *' I am not quite sure that I under-
stand it quite thoroughly even now. It is a
little puzzling, or, perhaps, I am dull of com-
prehension. At all events, Richard has talked
to me a great deal. It is plainly my duty to be
agreeable and hospitable to the people he wishes
to please and bring in contact with each other."

" And those people ? " asked Agnes.

" They are political men, they are members
of comniittees, members of the House, mem-
bers of the Senate — and their only claim to
existence in our eyes is that they are either in

A Dinner Party. 85

favour of or opposed to a certain bill not
indirecfcly connected with the welfare of the
owners of the Westoria lands."

" Bertha," said Agnes, quickly, " you are
not yourself."

" Thank you," was the response, '* that is
always satisfactory, but the compliment would
be more definite if you told me whom I hap-
pened to be. But I can teil you that I am
that glittering being, the female lobbyist. I
used to wonder last winter if I was not on
the verge of it, but now I know. I wonder if
they all begin as innocently as I did, and find
the descent — isn't it a descent ? — as easy and
natural. I feel queer, but not exactly disrepu-
table. It is merely a matter of being a dutiful
wife and smiling upon one set of men instead
of another. Still, I am slightly uncertain as
to just how disreputable I am. I was begin-
ning to be quite reconciled to my atmosphere
until I saw Colonel Tredennis, and I confess
he unsettled my mind and embarrassed me a
little in my decision."

" You have seen him alreadv ? "

" Accidentally, yes. He did not know I
had retumed, and came to see Kichärd.
He is quite intimate with Kichard now. He

86 Throuoh One Administration.

entered the parlour and found me there. I
do not think he was glad to see me- I left
him very soon."

She drew off her glove, and smoothed it
out upon her knee, with a thin and fragüe
little hand, upon which the rings hung looselj.
Agnes bent forward and involuntarily laid her
own hand upon it." .

'^ Dear," she said.

Bertha hurriedly lifted her eyes.

"What I wished to say/' she said, "was
that the week after next we give a little
dinner to Senator Blundel, and I wanted to
be sure I might count on you. If you are
there — and Colonel Tredennis — you will give
it an unprofessional aspect, which is what we
want. But, perhaps, you will refuse to come?"

'* Bertha," said Mrs. Sylvestre, "I will be
with you at any time — at all times — ^you wish
for or need me."

"Yes," said Bertha, reflecting upon her a
moment, " I think you would."

She got up and kissed her lightly and
without effusion, and then Agnes rose, too,
and they stood together.

" You were always good," Bertha said. " I
think life has made you better instead of

A DiNNilR Party. 87

worse. It is not so always. Things are so
difiFerent— everything seems to depend upon
circumstances. What is good in me would be
far enough from your Standards to be called
wickedness."

She paused abruptly, and Agnes feit that
she did so to place a check upon herseif : she
had Seen her do it before. When she spoke
again it was in an entirely different tone, and
the remaining half-hour of her visit was
spent in the discussion of every-day subjects.
Agnes Hstened, and replied to her with a
sense of actual anguish. She could have
bome better to have seen her less seif-
controlled; or she fancied so, at least. The
Summer had made an alteration in her, which
it was almost impossible to describe. Every
moment revealed some new, sad change in
her, and yet she sat and talked common-
places, and was bright and witty and
epigrammatic until the last.

" When we get our bill through," she said,
with a little smile, just before her departure,
** I am to go abroad for a year — for two, for
three, if I wish. I think that is the bribe
which has been offered me. One must always
be bribed, you know."

88 Throuqh One Administration.

As she stood at the window watching the
carriage drive away, Agnes was conscious of
a depression which was very hard to bear.
The brightness of her own atmosphere seemed
to have beeome heavy — the sun hid itself be-
hind the drifting, wintry, clouds — she glanced
around her room with a sense of dreariness.
Something carried her back to the memories
which were the one bürden of her present life.

" Such grief cannot enter a room and not
leave its shadow behind it," she said. And
she put her hand against the window-side,
and leaned her brow upon it sadly. It was
curious, she thought, the moment after, that
the mere sight of • a familiär figure should
bring such a sense of comfort with it as did
the sight of the one she saw approaching. It
was that of Laurence Arbuthnot, who came
with a business communication from Mrs.
Merriam, having been enabled, by chance, to
leave his work for an hour. He held a roll of
music in one hand and a bunch of violets in
the other, and when he entered, the room was
accompanied by the fresh fragrance of the
latter oflfering.

Agnes made a swift involuntary movement
towards him.

A Dinner Pabty. 89

" Ah 1 " she Said, " I could scarcely believe
that it was you." .

He detected the emotion in her manner and
tone at onee.

" Something has disturbed you," he said.
"What is it?"

" I have Seen Bertha," she answered, and
the words had a sound of appeal in them,
which she herseif no more realised or under-
stood than she comprehended the impulse
which impelled her to speak.

" She has been here ! She looks so ill — so
worn. Eyerything is so sad ! I "

She stopped and stood looking at him.

" Must I go away ? " • he said, quietly.
" Perhaps you would prefer to be alone. I
understand what you mean, I think."

" Oh, no ! " she said, impulsively, putting
out her band. "Don't go. I am unhappy.
It was — ^it was a relief to see you."

And when she sank on the sofa, he took a
seat near her and laid the violets on her lap,
and there was a faint flush on his face.

The little dinner, which was the first occa-
sion of Senator Blundel's introduction to the
Amory establishment, was a decided success.

90 Throügh One Administration.

"We will make it a success," Bertha had
Said* **It must be one." And there was a
ring in her voice which was a great relief to
her husband.

" It will be one," he sali "There is no
fear of your failing when you begin in this
way." And his spirits rose to such an extent
that he became genial and fascinating once
more, and almost forgot his late trisds and
uneertainties. He had always feit great
confidence in Bertha.

On the afternoon of the eventfid day
Bertha did not go out. She spent the hours
between luncheon and the tirae for dressing,
with her children. Once as he passed the
open door of the nursery, Kichard saw her
sitting upon the carpet, building a house of
Cards, while Jack and Janey and Meg sat
about her enchanted. A braid of her hair
had become loosened and hung over her
Shoulder; her cheeks were Üushed by the
fire ; she looked almost like a child herseif,
with her air of serious absorbed interest
in the frail structure growing beneath her
hands.

'' Won t that tire you ? " Eichard asked.

She glanced up with a smile.

I

A Dinner Party. 91

" No," she Said, *' it will rest me."

He heard her singing to them afterwards.
and later, when she went to her dressing-
room, he heard the pretty luUaby die away
gradually as she moved through the corridor.

When she appeared again, she was dressed
for dinner and came in buttoning her glove,
and at the sight of her he uttered an ex-
clamation of pleasure.

" What a perfect dress ! " he said. " What
is the idea ? There must be one."

She paused and turned slowly round so that
he might obtain the füll eflfect.

**You should deteet it," she replied. "It
is meant to convey one."

" It has a kind of dove-like look," he said.

She faeed him again.

" That is it," she said, serenely. " In the
true artist spirit, I have attired myself with
a view to expressing the perfect candour
and simplicity of my nature. Should you
find it possible to fear or suspect me of
ulterior motives — if you were a Senator, for
instance ? "

" Ah, come now 1 " said Kichard, not quite
so easily, ^" that is nonsense ! You have no
ulterior motives."

92 Throügh One Administration.

She opened her plumy, dove-coloured fan
and came nearer him.

'* There is nothing meretricious about me,"
she Said. " I am softly clad. in dove colour ;
a few Clusters of pansies adom me ; I am
covered from throat to wrists ; I have not
a jewel about me. Could the effect be
better ? "

" No, it could not," he replied, but sud-
denly he feit a trifle uncomfortable agäin,
and wondered what was hidden behind the
inscrutable little gaze she afterwards fixed
upon the fire.

But when Blundel appeared, which he did
rather early, he feit relieved again. Nothing
could have been prettier than her greeting
öf him, or more perfect in its attainment of
the object of setting him at his ease. It
must be confessed that he was not entirely
at his ease when he entered, his experience
not having been of a nature to develop in
him any latent love for general society. He
had fought too hard a fight to leave him much
time to know women well, and his superficial
knowledge of them made him a trifle awkwärd,
as it occasionally renders other men astonish-
ingly bold. In a party of men, all his gifts

A Dinner Party. 93

displayed themselves ; in the presence of
women he was afraid that less substantial
fellows had the advantage of him — men who
could not teil half so good a story or make
half so exhilarating a joke. As to this special
dinner he had not been particularly anxious
to count himself among the guests, and was
not very certain as to how Planefield had
beguiled him into accepting the invitation.

But ten minutes after he had entered the
room he began to feel mollified. Outside, the
night was wet and unpleasant, and not
calculated to improve a man's temper ; the
parlours glowing with fire-light and twinkling
wax candles were a vivid and agreeable
contrast to the sloppy rawness. The slender,
dove-coloured figure, wiih its soft, trailing
draperies, assumed more definitely pleasant
proportions, ^ and in his vague, inexperieneed,
middle-aged fashion he feit the effect of it.
She had a nice way, this little woman, he
decided ; no nonsense or airs and graces about
her; an easy manner, a gay little laugh. He
did not remember exactly afterwards what it
was she said which first wakened him np, but
he found himself laughing and greatly amused,
and when he made a witticism, he feit he had

94 Thkoügh One Administration.

reason to be proud of, the gay little peal of
laughter which broke forth in response had
the most amazingly exhilarating effect upon
Mm, and set him upon bis feet for the
evening. Women seldom got all the flavour
of bis jokes. He had an idea that some of
them were a little afraid of them and of bim,
too. The genuine mirth in Bertha's unstudied
laughter was like wine to him, and was better
than the guffaws of a dozen men, because it
had a finer and a novel flavour. After the joke
and the laugh the ice was melted, and he
knew that he was in the humour to distinguish
himself.

Planefield discovered this the moment he
saw him, and glanced at Bichard, who was
briUiant with good spirits.

** She's begun well," he said, when he had
an opportunity to speak to him. " I never
saw him in a better humour. She*s pleased
him somehow. Women don't touch him
usually."

*' She will end better," said Kichard. ** He
pleases her."

He did not displease her, at all events.
She saw the force and humour of bis stalwart
jokes, and was impressed by the shrewd

A Dinner Party. 95

business-like good nature which betrayed
nothing. When he began to enjoy himself
she liked the genuineness of his enjoyment
all the more because it was a personal matter
with him, and he seemed to revel in it.

" He ejijoys himself y^ was her mental com-
ment, '* really himself, not exactly the rest of
US, except as we stimulate him, and make
him say good things."

Among the chief of her gifts had always
been counted the power of stimulating people,
and making them say their best things, and
she made the most of this power now. She
listened with her brightest look, she uttered
her little exclamations of pleasure and interest
at exactly the right moment, and the gay
ring of her spontaneous sounding laugh was
perfection. Miss Yarien, who was one of her
guests, sat and regarded her with untempered
admiration.

" Your wife," she said to Amory, in an
undertone, " is simply incomparable. It is
not necessary to teil you that, of course, but
it strikes me with fresh force this evening.
She really seems to enjoy things. That air of
gay, candid delight is irresistible. It makes
her seem to that man like a charming little

96 TflROüGH One Administration.

girl-a harmless, bright, sympathetic üttle
girl. How he likes her 1 "

When she went in to dinner with him, and
he sat by her aide, he liked her still more.
He had never been in better spirits in his
life ; he had never said so many things worth
remembering ; he had never heard such spark-
ling and vivacious talk as went on round this
particular table. It never paused or lagged.
There was Amory, all alight and stirred by
every conversational ripple which passed him ;
there was Miss Varien, scintillating and Cast-
ing off öhowers of sparks in the prettiest and
most careless fashion; there was Laurence
Arbuthnot, doing his share without any
apparent effort, and appreciating his neighbours
to the fuU; there was Mrs. Sylvestre, her
beautiful eyes making speech almost super-
fluous, and Mrs. Merriam, occasionally casting
into the pool some neatly weighbed pebble,
which seilt its circles to the shore : and in the
midst of the coruscations, Blundel found
himself, somehow, doing quite his portion of
the illumination. Eeally these people and
their dinner-party pleased him wonderfuUy
well, and he was far from sorry that he had
come, and far from sure that he should not

A Dinner Party. 97

come again if lie were asked. He was shrewd
enough, too, to see how much the success of
everything depended upon his own little com-
panion at the head of the table, and, respecting
success beyond all things, after the manner
of his kind, he liked her all the better for it.
There was something about her which, as
Miss Valien had said, made him feel that
she was like a bright, sympathetic little girl,
and engendered a feeling of fatherly patronage
which was entirely comfortable. But though
she rather led others to talk than talked
herseif, he noticed that she said a sharp
thing now and then, and he liked that, too,
and was greatly amused by it. He liked
women to be sharp, if they were not keen
enough to interfere with masculine preroga-
tives. There was only one person in the
Company he did not find exhilarating, and
that was a large, brown-faced fellow, who
sat next to Mrs. Merriam, and said less
than might have been expected of him,
though when he spoke his remarks were well
enough in their way. Blundel mentioned
him afterwards to Bertha when they returned
to the parlour.

**That Colonel, who is he?" he asked
VOL. m. H

98 Throügh Oke Administration.

her, " I didn't catch his name exactly. Hand-
Bome fellow, but he'd be handsomer if '^

" It is the part of wisdom to stop you,"
«aid Bertha, " and teil you that he is a sort
of cousin of mine, and his perfections are such
as I regard with awe. His name is Colonel
Tredennis, and you have read of him in the
Bewspapers."

**What!" he exclaimed, tuming his sharp
little eyes upon Tredennis, ** the Indian man'
I'm glad you told me that. I want to talk to
him." And an opportunity being given him,
he proceeded to do so with much animation,
rufl3.ing his stiflF hair up at intervals in his
interest, his little eyes twinkling like those
of some alert animal.

He left the house late and in the best
of humours. He had forgotten for the time
being all questions of bills and subsidies.
Nothing had occurred to remind him of such
subjects. Their very existence seemed a trifle
problematical, or, rather, perhaps, it seemed
desirable that it should be so.

**Ifeel," he said to Planefield, as he was
shrugging himself into his overcoat, " as if
I had rather missed it by not coming hefe
before."

A Dinner Party. 99

" Tou were asked," answered Planefield.

" So 1 was," he replied, attacking the top
button of the overcoat " Well, the next time
I am asked I suppose I shall come."

Then he gave his attention to the rest of
the buttons.

" A man in public life ought to see all sides
of his pubUc," he Said, having disposed of
the last one. "Said some good things,
didn't they ? The little woman isn't without
a mind of her own either, When is it she
receives ? "

" Thursdays," said Planefield.

**Ah, Thursdays."

And then they went out in Company.

fier guests having all departed, Bertha
remained for a few minutes in the parlour.
Arbuthnot and Tredennis went out last, and
as the door door clösed upon them she looked
at Bichard.

" WeU ? " she said.

" Well ! " exclaimed Kichard. " It could
not have been better 1 "

"Couldn't it?" she said, looking down a
little meditatively.

"No," he responded, with excellent good
cheer, " and you see how simple it was, and —

H 2

100 Tsmx^ss. Qsx Auw i iiMi LAiKgr.

and kflv nnneeesBKj it » to exaggerste it
and call it b^ vnpleuaiit Bamea;. Wliat we
want ia muBaif to ooiae in eontaet witK
tii£9e pec^Ie» and abo v tibiem Iiow peifectty
liannkss we aie» and thot wiieii the time
ecanes thej ma j &Tear ns witiuHib injuiy to
tfaemaebnes or aiij one da& TkaLt's it in a
nutdielL''

''We ahrays aaj ^as^' don't we?" said
Bertba» ''as if we w»e part-f«i^[»etQEs of
the Westona landa 0QQrselTe& It'a a little
ccmfaamg^ doii't you tiiink so ? '^

She paased and kM^»d np witli oüe of her
sodden smfle&

'' Stin I d(m't &d exartfy sme that I have
been — ^bnt no, I am not to call it lobbying,
am I ? Wbat mnst I call it. It leally ooght
to bave a name.**

''Don't call it anything^"' said Riebard,
famtly conseions of bis dufaiousness again«

** Wby, wbat a good idea ! " she answered.
''Wbat a good way of getting round a
difficulty — ^not to give it a name ? It aknost
obliterates it, doesn't it? It is an actual
inspiration« We won't call it anytbing.
Theie is so much in a name — too mucb, on
whole, really. But — ^without giving it a

A Dn^ER Party. 101

name — I have behaved pretty well and
advanced our — ^your — whose interests ? "

" Everybody's," he replied, with an effort
at lightness. " Mine particularly. I own that
my View of the matter is a purely selfish one.
There is a career before me, you know, if all
goes well."

He detected at once the expression of
gentleness which softened her eyes as she
watched him.

" You always wanted a career, didn't you ? "
she Said.

" It isn't pleasant," he said, " for a man to
know that he is not a success."

" If I can give you your career," she said,
** you shall have it, Kichard. It is a simpler
thing than I thought, after all." And she
went up stairs to her room, stopping on the
way to spend a few minutes in the nursery.

CHAPTEß V.

FATHER AND DAUGHTER.

The Professor sat in his favourite chair by
bis library fire, an open volume on his knee
and his after-dinner glass of wine still un-
finished on the table near him. He had dined
a couple of hours ago with Mr. Arbuthnot,
who had entertained him very agreeably, and
had not long since left him to present himself
upon some social scene.

It was of his departed guest that he was
thinking as he pondered, and of certain plans
he had on band for his ultimate welfare, and
his thoughts so deeply occupied him that he
did not hear the sound of the door-bell,
which rang as he sat, nor notice any other
sound until the door of the room opened and
some one entered. He raised his head and
looked round then, uttering a slight ejaculation
of surprise.

Father and Daüghter, 103

'' Why, Bertha ! " he ' said. " My dear 1
This is unexpected,"

He paused and gave her one of his gently
curious looks. She had thrown her cloak off
as she came near him, and something in her
appearance attracted his attention.

" My dear," he said, slowly, *' you lock to-
night as you did years ago. I am reminded
of a time when Philip first came to us. I
wonder why ? "

There was a low seat near his side, and
she came and took it.

"It is the dress," she said. "I was look-
ing over some things I had laid aside and
found it. I put it on for old acquaintance
sake. I have never worn it since then.
Perhaps I hoped it would make me feel
like a girl again,"

Her tone was very quiet, her whole
manner was quiet, the dress was simplicity
itself . A little lace kerchief was knotted about
her throat.

"That is a very feminine idea," remarked
the Professor, seeming to give it careful
attention. "Peculiarly feminine, I should
say. And — does it, my dear?"

"Not quite," she answered. "A little.

104 Through One Administration.

When I first put it on and stood before the
glass, I forgot a good many things for a few
moments, and then, suddenly, I heard the
children's voices in the nursery, and Kichard
came in and Bertha Herrick was gone. You
know I was Bertha Herrick when I wore this
— Bertha Herrick, thinking of her first
party."

" Yes, my dear," he responded, " I — I re-
member."

There were a few moments of silence, in
which he looked abstractedly thoughtfol, but
presently he bestirred himself.

" By the by," he said, ** that reminds me.
Didn't I understand that there was a great
party somewhere to-night ? Mr. Arbuthnot
left me to go to it, I think. I thought there
was a reason for my surprise at seeing you.
That was it. Surely you should have been at
the great party instead of here."

" Well," she replied, " I suppose I should
but for some curious accident or other — I
don't- know what the accident is or how it
happened— I should have had an invitation—
of course if it häd chanced to reach me, but
something has occurred to prevent its doing
so, I suppose. Such things happen, you

Father and Daüghter. 105

know. To all intents and purpöses I have
not been invited, so I could not go. And I
am very glad. I would rather be here."

"I would rather have you here/' he re-
tumed, " if such seclusion pleases you. But
I can hardly imagine, my dear, how the
party "

She put her band on bis caressingly.

*' It cannot be an entire success," she said ;
^*it won't in my absence — ^but misfortunes
befall even the magnificent and prosperous,
and the party must console itself. I like to
be here— I like very much to be here."

He glanced at her grey dress again.

" Bertha Herrick would have preferred the
party," he remarked.

" Bertha Amory is wiser," she said. " We
will be quiet together — and happy."

They were very quiet. The thought oc-
curred to the Professor several times during
the evening. She kept her seat near him,
and talked to him, speaking, he noticed,
principally of her children and of the past ;
the time she had spent at home, before her
marriage, seemed to be present in her mind.

" I wonder," she said once, thoughtfully,
*^ what sort of girl I was ? I can only

106 TflROüGH One Administration.

remember that I was such a happy girl, Do
you remember that I was a specially seif-
indulgent or fnvolous one ? ßut I am afraid
you would not teil me, if you did."

«My dear/' he said in response, *^you
were a natural, simple, joyous creature, and a
great pleasure to us."

She gave his hand a little pressure.

" I can remember that you were always
good to me," she said. "I üsed to think
you were a little curious about me, and
wondered what I would do in the future.
Now it is my tum to wonder if I am at all
what you thought I would be ? "

He did not reply at onee, and then spoke
slowly.

"There seemed so many possibilities," he
said. "Yes; I thought it possible that you
might be — what you are."

It was, as he said this, that thexe retumed
to his mind the thought which had^oceupied
it before her entrance. He had been thinking
then • of something he wished to teil her,
before she heard it from other quarters, and
which he feit he could teil her at no more
fitting time than when they were alone. It
\7as something relating to Laurence Arbuth-

Father and Daughter. 107

not, and, curiously enough, she paved the way
for it by mentioning Lim herseif.

* • Did you say Laurence was here to-night ? "
she asked.

" Yes," he replied, " he was so good as to
dine with me."

" He would say that you were so good as

to invite him," she said. *' He is very fond of

Coming here."

" I shouM miss him very much," he re-

tumed, " if he should go away."

She looked üp quickly, attracted by his
manner.

" But there is no likelihood of his going
away," she said.

" I think," he answered, " that there may
be, and I wish to speak to you about it."

He refrained from looking at her— he even
deücately withdrew his hand so that if hers
should lose its steadiness he might be
unconscious of it.

"60 awayl^she exclaimed, "from Wash-
ington ? Laurence 1 Why should you think
so ? I cannot imagine such a thing I "

" He does not imagine it himself yet,"
he replied. **/ am going to suggest it to
him."

108 Throügh One Administration,

Her band was still upon liis knee and he
feit a Start.

" You are ! " she said ; " why and how ?
Do you think he will go ? I do not believe
hewül."

" I am not sure that he will," he answered,
" but I hope so ; and what I mean is, that I
think it may be possible to send him abroad."

She withdrew her hand from his knee.

"He won't go," she said; "I am sure
of it."

He went on to explain himself, still not
looking at her.

"He is wasting his abilities," he said; "he
is wasting his youth ; the position he is in is
absurdly insignificant ; it occurred to me that
if I used, with right effect, the little influence
I possess, there might finally be obtained for
him some position abroad which would be
at least something better, and might possibly
open a way for him in the future. I spoke to
the Secretary of State about it, and he was
very kind, and appeared interested. It seems
very possible, even probable, that my hopes
will be realised."

For a few seconds she sat still ; then she
said, abstractedly :

Fathee and Daüghtee. 109

" It would be very stränge to be obliged to
live our lives without Laurence ; they would
not be the same lives at all. Still, I suppose
it would be best for bim ; but it would be
liard to live without Laurence. I don't like to
think of it."

In spite of bis intention not to do so, be
found bimself turning to look at her. Tbere
liad been surprise in her voice, and now tbere
"was sadness, but tbere was no agitation, no
Tincontrollable emotion.

"Can it be," be tbougbt, "tbat sbe is
getting over it ? Wbat does it mean ? "

Sbe tumed and met bis eyes.

" But wbether it is for tbe best or not," sbe
eaid, *' I don't believe be will go."

"My dear," be said, "you speak as if tbere
"Was a reason."

" I tbink tbere is a reason," sbe answered,
** and it is a stroug one."

" Wbat is it ? " be asked.

"Tbere is some one be is beginning to be
::ffond of," sbe replied ; " ihat is tbe reason."

He kept bis eyes fixed upon her.

" Some one be is beginning to bQ fond of ? ''
lie repeated.

"I don't know bow it will end," sbe said

110 Throügh One Administeation.

'^ I am sometimes afraid it can only end sadly •
but there is some one he would find it hard to
leave, I am sure."

The Professor gradually rose in his chair
untü he waB sitting upright

" I wish," he said, " that you would teil me
who it is."

" I do not think he would mind your know-
ing," she answered. " It seems stränge you
have not seen. It is Agnes Sylvestre/'

The Professor sank back in his chair, and
looked at the bed of coals in the grate.

" Agnes Sylvestre ! " he exclaimed ; " Agnes
Sylvestre ! "

" Yes," she said ; " and in one sense it is
very hard on him that it should be Agnes
Sylvestre. After all these years, when he has
steadily kept himself free from all love affairs,
and been so sure that nothing could tempt him,
it cannot be easy for him to know that he
loves some one who has everything he has not
— all the things he feels he never will have.
He is very proud and very unrelenting in his
Statement of his own circumstances, and he
won't try to glaze them over when he com-
pares them with hers. He is too poor, she
is too rieh — even if she loved him."

Father and Daughtee. 111

((

Even 1 " Said the Professor. *' Is it your
opinion that she does not ? "

** I do not know," she answered. " It has
seemed to me more probable that — ^that she
liked Colonel Tredennis."

" I thought so," said the Professor. ** I must
confess that I thought so — ^though, perhaps,
that may have been because my feeling for him
is so strong, and I have seen that he **

" That he was fond of her ? " Bertha put in
as he paused to reflect.

" I thought so," he said again. ** I thought
I was sure of it. He sees her often ; he
thinks of her frequently, it is piain ; he speaks
of her to me ; he sees every charm and grace
in her. I have never heard him speak of any
other woman so."

" It would be a very suitable marriage,"
said Bertha ; " I have feit that from the first.
There is no one more beautiful than Agnes—
HO one sweeter — no one more fit "

She pushed her seat back from the hearth
and rose from it.

" The fire is too warm," she said. " I have
been sitting before it too long."

There was some ice- water upon a side -table,
and she went to it and poured out a glass, and

112 Thboügh One Administration.

drank it slowly. Then she took a seat by the
centre-table and spoke again, as she idiy
turned over the leaves of a magazine without
looking at it.

** When first Agnes came here," she said,
** I thought of it. I remember that when
I presented Philip to her» I watched to
see if she impressed him as she doea most
people."

" She did," said the Professor. " I remem-
ber his speaking of it afterwards, and Baying
what a charm hers was, and that her beauty
must touch a man's best natura"

" That was very good/' said Bertha, faintly
smiling. " And it was very like him. And
since then," she added, "you say he has
spoken of her often in the same way and as he
speaks of no one eise ? "

" Again and again," answered the Professor.
" The truth is, my dear, I am fond of speaking
of her myself, and have occasionally led him
in that direction. I have wished for him what
you have wished."

" And we have both of us," she said, half
sadly, " been unkind to poor Laurence."

She closed the magazine.

**Perhaps he will go, after all," she said.

Fathbr and Daughteb. 113

«* He may see that it is best. He may be glad
to go before the year is ended."

She left her book and her chair.

'* I think I must gp now," she said ; " I am
a littie tired."

He thought that she looked so, and the
shadow which for a moment had half lifted
itself feil again.

" No," he thought, " she has not outlived it,
and this is more bitter for her than the rest. It
is only natural that it should be more bitter."

When he got up to bid her good-night, she
put a hand upon either of his Shoulders and
kissed him.

" 1 am glad I was not invited to the grand
party, dear," she said ; "I have liked this
better. It has been far better for me."

There were only a few yards of space be-
tween her father's house and her own, and in
a few seconds she had ascended the steps and
entered the door. As she did so she heard
Richard in the parlour speaking rapidly and
vehemently, and, entering, found that he was
talking to Colonel Tredennis. The Colonel
was Standing at one end of the room, as if he
had tumed round with an abrupt movement ;
Bichard was lying füll length upon a sofa,

VOL. III. I

114 Through One Administration.

looking uneasy and excited, his cushions
tumbled about him, They ceased speaking
the moment they saw her, and there was an
odd pause, noticing which, she came forwaxd
and spoke with an effort at appearing at ea^e.

** Do you know that this seems like conten-
tioo." sL Said. «Ar, you qua^ng with
Kichard, Colonel Tredennis, or is he quarrel-
ling with you ? And why are you not at
the reception ? "

" We are quarrelling with eaeh other vio-
lently," said Kichard, with a half laugh.
** You arrived barely in time to prevent our
Coming to blows. And why are you not at
the reception ? "

Bertha tumed to Tredennis, who for a
moment seemed to have been Struck dumb by
the sight of her. The memories the slender
gray figure had brought to the Professor
rushed back upon him with a force that stag-
gered him. It was as if the ghost of some-
thing dead had suddenly appeared before him
and he was compelled to hold himself as if he
did not see it. The little gray gown, the
carelessly knotted kerchief — ^it seemed so
terrible to see them and to be forced to realise
through them how changed she was. He had

Father and Daüghtek. 115

never seen her look so ill and fragile as she
did when she turned to him and spoke in her
quiet, unemotional voice.

" This is the result of political machination,"
she Said. " He has forgotten that we were not
invited. Being absorbed in affairs of state, he
no longer keeps an account of the doings of
the giddy throng."

Then he recovered himself.

** You were not invited ! " he said. ^' Isn't
there some mistäke about that ? I thought "

"Your Impression naturally was that we
were the foundation-stone of all social occa-
sions," she responded ; " but this time they
have dispensed with us. We were not invited."

" Say that you did not receive your invita-
tion," put in Kichard, restlessly. ** The other
way of stating it is nonsense."

She paused an instant, as if his manner
ßuggested a new thought to her.

" I wonder," she said slowly, " if there could
be a reason^ — but no, I think that is impossible.
It must have been an accident. But you," she
added to Tredennis, " have not told me why
you are not with the rest of the world."

" I came away early," he answered. " I was
there for an hour."

I 2

116 Through One Administration.

He was glad that she did not sit down — ^he
wished that she would go away — ^it would be
better if she would go away and leave them to
themselves again.

" It was very gay, I suppose," she said.
" And you saw Agnes ? "

" I have just left her," he replied.

" You ought to have stayed," she seid, tum-
ing away with a smile. " It would have been
better than quarrelling with Richard."

And she went out of the room and left them
together, as he had told himself it would be
best she should.

He did not look at her as she ascended
the staircase ; he stood with his back to the
open door, and did not speak until he heard
her go into the room above them. Then he
addressed Richard.

" Do you understand me now ? " he said,
stemly. " This is the beginning ! "

'* The beginning ! " exclaimed Richard, with
a half frantic gesture. " If this is the begin-
ning — and things go wrong — imagine what
the end wül be I "

The room Bertha had entered was the
nursery. In the room opening out of it, Jack
and Janey slept in their small beds. Upon

Father and Daughter. 117

the lieartli-rug lay a broken toy. She bent to
pick it up, and afterwards stood a moment
holding it in her band without seeing it ; sbe
still held it as she sank into a chair which
was near her.

" I will stay here a while," she said. " This
is the best place for me."

For a few minutes she sat quite stiU, some-
thing like a Stupor had settled upon her ; she
was thinking in a blind, disconnected way of
Agnes Sylvestre. Everything would be right
at last. Agnes would be happy. This was
what she had wished — ^what she had intended
from the first — when she had brought them
together. It was she who had brought them
together. And this was the plan she had had
in her mind when she had done it ; and she
had known what it would cost her even then.
And then there came back to her the memory
of the moment when she had turned away
£rom them to pour out Laurence's coffee with
hands she could not hold still, and whose tre-
mor he saw and understood. Poor Laurence !
he must suffer too ! Poor Laurence !

She looked down suddenly at the broken
toy in her band.

" I will stay here more," she said. " It is

118 Throügh One Administration.

better here. There is nothing eise I And if I
were a good woman I should want nothing
eise. If I had only not spoken to Agnes —
that was the mistake ; if she will only forget
it 1 Sonve one should be happy — some one I
It will be Agnes."

She got up and went into the children's
room, and knelt down by Janey^s bed, laying
the toy on the coverlet. She put her arms
round the child and spoke her name.

*' Janey ! " she said. *^ Janey I "

The child stirred, opened her eyes, and put
an arm sleepily about her neck.

" I said my prayers," she murmured. " Grod
bless mamma and papa — and everybody.
God bless Uncle Phmp."

Bertha laid her face near her upon the pillow.

" Yes," she said, brokenly. " You belong
to me and I belong to you. I will stay here,
Janey — with you ! "

CHAPTER VI.

A NOBLE FRIEND.

SoMETiMES during the winter, when she
glanced axound her parlour on the evenings of
her receptions, Bertha feit as if she were in a
waking dream. So many people of whom she
seemed to know nothing were gathered about
her ; she saw stränge faces on every side ; a
new element had appeared which was gradually
erowding out the old, and she herseif feit that
she was almost a stranger in it. Day by day,
and by almost imperceptible degrees at first,
various mysterious duties had devolved upon
her. She had found herseif calling at one
house because the head of it was a member of
a committee, at another because its mistress
was a person whose influence over her husband
it would be weU to consider ; she had issued
an invitation here because the recipients must

120 Thboügh One Administration.

be pleased, another there because somebody
was to be biased in the right direction. The
persona thus to be pleased and biased were by
no means invariably interes'ting. There was a
ßtalwart Westemer or so, who made themselves
almost too readily at home ; an occasional rigid
New Englander, who suspected a lack of pur-
pose in the atfaosphere ; and a stray South-
emer, who exhibited a tendency towards a
large and rather exhaustiye gallantry. As a
rule, too, Bertha was obliged to admit that she
found the men more easily entertained than the
women, who were most of them new to their
surroundings, and privately determined to do
themselves credit and not be imposed upon by
appearances ; and when this was not the case
were either timorously overpowered by a sense
of their inadequacy to the Situation, or calmly
intrenched behind a shield of impassive com-
posure more discouraging than all eise. It was
not always easy to enliven such material : to
be always ready with the right thing to say
and do ; to understand, as by Inspiration, the
intricacies of every occasion and the require-
ments of every mental condition ; and while
Bertha spared no effort, and used her every
gift to the best of her ability, the result, even

A Noble Friend. 121

when comparatively successful, was rather pro-
ductive of exhaustion, mental and physical.

"They don*t care about me," she said to
Arbuthnot one night, with a rueful laugh as
she looked around her. " And I am always
afraid of their privately suspecting that I don't
care about them. Sometimes when I look at
them, I cannot help being everpowered by a
sense of there being a kind of ludicrousness
in it all. Do you know, nearly every one
of them has a reason for being here, and it is
never by any chance connected with my reason
for inviting them, I could give you some
of the reasons. Shall I ? Some of them are
feminine reasons and some of them are mas-
culine. That woman at the end of the sofa —
the thin, eager-looking one — comes because
she wishes to accustom herseif to society.
Her husband is a ' rising man/ and she is in
love with him and has a hungry desire to keep
pace with him. The woman she is talking
to has a husband who wants something
Senator Planefield may be induced to give
him — and Senator Planefield is on his native
heath here. That showy little Southern
widow has a large claim against the govern-
ment, and comea because she sees people she

122 Through One Admikisteation.

thinks it best to know. She is wanted
because she has a favourite cousin wbo is
given patriotically to opposing all measures
not designed to benefit the South. It is
rather fantastic when you reflect upon it,
isn't it ? "

" You know what I think about it without
asking," answered Arbuthnot.

" Yes, you have told me," was her response ;
'^ but it will be all over before long, and then
— Ah ! there is Senator Blundel ! Do you
know, it is always a relief to me when he
comes ; " and she went towards him with a
brighter look than Arbuthnot had seen her
wear at any time during the entire evening.

It had taken her some time herseif to
deeide why it was that she liked Blundel
and feit at ease with him ; in fact, up to the
present period she had scarcely done more
than deeide that she did like him. She had
not found his manner become more polished as
their aequaintance progressed ; he was neither
gallant nor accomplished ; he was always
rather füll of himself, in a genuine, masculine
way. He was blunt, and by no means tact-
ful ; but she had never objeeted to him from
the first, and after a while she had become

A Noble Friend. 123

conscious of feeling relief, as she had put it to
Arbuthnot, when his streng, rather aggressive
Personality presented itself upon the scene.
He was not difficult to entertain, at least.
Finding in her the best of listeners, he enter-
tained himself by talking to her, and by
makingsharp jokes, at which they both laughed
with equal appreciation. He knew what to
talk about, too, and what subjeets to joke on ;
and, however apparently communicative his
mood might be, his opinions were always
kept thriftily in hand.

^^He seems to talk a good deal," Kichard
Said testily; *^but, atter all, you don't find
out much of what he really thinks.*'

Bertha had discovered this early in their
acquaintance. If the object in making the
house attractive to him was that he might
be led to commit himself in any way during
his Visits, that object was scarcely attained,
When at last it appeared feasible to discuss
the Westoria lands projeet in his presence, he
fihowed no unwiUingness to listen or to ask
questions ; but, the discussion being at an
end, if notes had been compared no one could
have Said that he had taken either side of
the question.

124 Through One Administration,

" He's balancing things," Planefield saicL
** I told you he would do it. You may trust
him not to speak until he has made up
his mind which side of the scale the weight
is on."

When these discussions were being carried
an Bertha had a fancy that he was more inter-
ested than he appeared outwardly. Several
times she had observed that he asked her
questions afterwards which proved that no
Word had dropped on his ear unheeded, and
that he had, for some reason best known
to himself, reflected upon all he had heard.
But their acquaintance had a side entirely
untouched by worldly machinations, and it
was this aspeet of it which Bertha liked.
There was something homely and genuine
about it. He paid her no compliments ; he
even occasionally found fault with her habits,
and what he regarded as the unnecessary
conventionality of some of her surroundings ;
but his good-natured egotism never oflfended
her. A widower without family, and im-
mersed in political business, he knew little of
the comforts of home life. He lived in two or
three rooms, füll of papers, books, and pigeon-
holes, and took his meals at an hoteL He

A Noble Friend. 125

•

found this convenient if not luxurious, and
more than convenience it had never yet
occurred to him to expect or demand. But he
was not too dull to appreciate the good which
feil in his way ; and after spending an hour
with the Amorys on two or three occasions,
when he had left the scene of his political
labonrs fagged and out of humour, he began
to find pleasure and relief in his unceremonious
Visits, and to look forward to them. There
came an evening when Bertha, in looking
over some music, came upon a primitive
bailad which proved to be among the recol-
lections of his youth, and she aroused him to
enthusiasm by singing it. His musical taste
was not remarkable for its cultivation; he
was strongly in favonr of pronounced melody,
and was disposed to regard a song as in-
complete without a chonis; but he enjoyed
himself when his prejudices were pandered
to, and Bertha rather respected his courageous
if benighted frankness, and his obstinate faith
in his obsolete favourites. So she sang " Ben
Bolt" to him, and "The Harp that once
through Tara's Halls," and others fax less
classical and more florid ; and while she sang
he sat ungracefully but comfortably by the

126 Through One Administration.

fire, his eyes twinkling less watchfuUy, the
rugged lines of his blunt-feätured face almost
settling into repose, and sometimes when she
ended he roused himself with something
like a sigh.

" Do you like it ? " she would say. " Does
it make you forget * the gentieman from In-
diana ' and * the Senator from Connecticut ' ? "^

" I don't want to forget them," he would
reply with dogged good humour. " They are
not the kind of fellows it is safe to forget,
but it makes my recollections of them
more agreeable."

But after a while there were times when he
was not in the best of humours, and when
Bertha had a fancy that he was not entirely
at ease or pleased with herseif» At such times
his Visits were brief and unsatisfactory, and
she frequently discovered that he regarded
her with a restless and perturbed expression,
as if he was not quite certain of his own
opinions of her.

" He looks at me," she said to Eichard,
" as if he had moments of suspecting me of
something."

" Nonsense I " said Eichard. " What could
he suspect you of ? "

A Noble Feiend. 127

" Of nothing/' she answered. " I think
that was what we agreed to call it."

But she never failed to shrink when the
twinkling eyes rested upon her with the dis-
turbed questioning in their glance, and the
eonsciousness of this shrinking was very bitter
to her in secret.

When her guest approached her on the
evening before referred to, she detected at
once that he was not in a condition of mind
altogether imruffled. The glances he cast on
those about him were not encouraging, and
the few nods of recognition he bestowed were
far from cordial; his hair stood on end a
trifle more aggressively than usual, and his
short, stout body expressed a degree of
general dissatisfaction which it was next to
impossible to ignore.

Bertha did not attempt to ignore it.

** I will teil you something before you speak
to me," she said. "Something has put you
out of humour."

He gave her a sharp glance and then looked
away over the heads of the crowd.

" There is always enough to put a man out of
humour," he said. " What a lot of people you
have here to-night ! What do they come for ? "

128 Throügh One Administration,

" I have just been telling Mr. Arbuthnot
some of the reasons/' she answered. " They
are very few of them good . ones. You came
hoping to recover your spirits."

** I came to look at you," he seid.

He was frequently blunt, but there was a
bluntness about this speech which surprised her.
She answered him with a laugh, however.

*'Iamalways worth looking at/' she said.
" And now you have seen me ? "

He was looking at her by this time, and
even more sharply than before. It seemed as
if he was bent upon reading in her face the
answer to the question he had asked of it
before, but he evidently did not find it.

"There's something wrong with you,'^ he
Said. " I don't know what it is. I don't know
what to make of you."

" If you could make anything of me but
Bertha Amory," she replied, " you might do a
Service to society ; but that is out of the
question; and as to there being something
wrong with me, there is something wrong with
all of US. There is something wrong with Mr.
Arbuthnot, he is not enjoying himself ; there
is something wrong with Senator Planefield,
who has been gloomy all the evening."

A Noble Friend. 129

" Planefield," he said. " Ah ! yes, there he
is ! Here pretty often, isn't he ? "

" He is a great friend of Richard's/' she
repUed, with discretion.

" So I have heard," he retumed. And then
he gave his attention to Planefield for a few
minutes, as if he found him also an object of
deep interest. After this inspection, he turned
to Bertha again.

"Well/^ he said, "I suppose you enjoy all
this or you wouldn't do it ? "

"You are not enjoying it/' she replied.
"It does not exhilarate you as I hoped it
would."

" I'm out of humour," was his answer. " I
told you so. I have just heard something I
don't like. I dropped in here to stay five
minutes and take a look at you and see
if "

He checked hiinself and rubbed his upright
liair impatiently, almost angrily.

" I'm not sure that you mightn't be enjoy-
ing yourself better/' he said, "and I should
like to know something more of you than
I do.'^

" If any information I can give you ''

she began.

VOL. ni. K

130 Through One Administration.

^'Come,'' he said, with a sudden eflFort at
better humour, "that is the way you talk to
Planefield. We are too good friends for that."

His shrewd eyes fixed themselves on her as
if asking the unanswered question again.

"Comel" he said. " Tm a blunt, old-
fashioned fogey, but we are good, honest firiends
— and always have been."

She glanced across the room at Eichard,
who was talking to a stubbom opposer of the
great measure, and making himself delightful
beyond description. She wished for the mo-
ment that he was not quite so picturesque and
animated ; then she gathered herseif together.

" I think we have been," she said. " I hope
you will believe so."

'' Well," he answered, " I shouldn't like to
believe anything eise."

She thought that perhaps he had said more
than he originally intended; he changed the
subjeet abruptly, made a few comments upon
people near them, asked a few questions, and
finally went away, having scarcely spoken to
any one but herseif.

" Why did he not remain longer ? " Richard
asked afterwards, when the guests were gone
and they were talking the evening over.

A Noble Feiend. 131

** He waa not in the mood to meet people,"
Bertha replied. " He said he had heard some-
thing he did not like, and it had put him out
of humour. I think it was something about
me.

" About you ! " Richard exclaimed. " Why,
in heaven's name, about you ? "

" His manner made me think so," she an-
swered, coldly. " And it would not be at all
unnatural. I think we may begin to expect
such things."

" üpon my word," said Richard, starting
up, " I think that is going rather far. Don't
you See " — with righteous indignation — " what
an Imputation you are casting on me ? Do
you suppose I would allow you to do anything
that — that "

She raised her eyes and met his with an
unwavering glance.

"Certainly not," she said quickly. And
his sentence remained unfinished, not because
he feit that his point had been admitted, bui
because, for some mysterious reason, it sud-
denly became impossible for him to say

more.

More than once of late, when he had
launched into one of his spasmodic defences*

K 2

132 Through One Administration.

of himself, he had found himself checked by
this intangible power in her uplifted eyes,
and he certainly did not feel his grievances
the less for the experiences.

Until during the last few months he had
always counted it as one of his wife's chief
charms that there was nothing complicated
about her, that her mcthods were as simple
and direct as a child's. It had never seemed
necessary to explain her. But he had not
found this so of late. He had even begun to
feel that though there was no outward breach
in the tenor of their lives, an almost impal-
pable barrier had risen between them. He
expressed no wish she did not endeavour to
gratify ; her manner towards himself — with
the exception of the fleeting moments when
he feit the check — was entirely unchanged,
The spirit of her gaiety ruled the house, as
it had always done ; and yet he was not always
sure of the exact significance of her jests and
laughter. The jests were clever, the laugh
had a light ring, but there was a diflferenee
which puzzled him, and which — ^because he
recognised in it some vague connection with
himself — he tried in his moments of leisure
\o explain. He had even spoken of it to

A Noble Friend. 133

Colonel Tredennis on occasions when his mood
was confidential.

"She used to be as frank as a child," he
Said, " and have the lightest way in the world ;
and I liked it. I am a ratlier feather-headed
fellow myself, perhaps, and it suited me. But
it is all gone now. When she laughs I don't
feel sure of her, and when she is silent I begin
to wonder what she is thinking of.*'

The thing she thought, the words she said
to herseif oftenest were : " It will not last very
long." She said them over to herseif at mo-
ments she could not have sustained herseif
under but for the consolation she found in
them. Beyond this time, when what she
faced from day to day would be over, she
had not yet looked.

" It is a Gurions thing," she said to Arbuth-
not, "but I seem to have ceased even to
think of the future. I wonder sometimes if
very old people do not feel so — as if there
was nothing more to happen."

There was another person who found the
events of the present sufläcient to exclude for
the time being, almost all thought of the
fiiture. This person was Colonel Tredennis, .
who had found his responsibilities increase

134 Through One Administration.

upon him also, — not the least of these respon-
sibilities being, it must be confessed, that
intimacy with Mr. Richard Amory of which
Bertha had spoken.

"He is very intimate with Richard," ehe
had Said, and she had every reason for making
the comment.

At first it had been the Colonel who had
made the advances for reasons of his own,
but later it had not been necessary for him
to make advances. Having found relief in
making his first reluctant half-confidences,
Richard had gradnally fallen into making
others. When he had been overpowered by
secret anxiety and nervous distrust of every-
thing, finding himself alone with the Colonel,
and admiring and respecting above all things
the self-control he saw in him — a self-control
which meant safety and silence nnder all
temptations to betray the faintest shadow of
a trust reposed in him — it had been impossi-
ble for him to resist the Impulse to speak of
the trials which beset him ; and having once
spoken of them, it was again impossible not
to go a little further, and say more than he
had at first intended. So he had gone on,
from one step to another, until there had come

A Noble Friend. 135

a day when the Colonel himself had cliecked
him for an instant, feeling it only the part of
honour in the man who was the cooler of the
two, and who had nothing to risk or repent.

"Wait a moment," he said. "Remember,
that though I have not asked questions so
fax, I am ready to hear anything you choose
to say — ^but don*t teil me what you might
wish you had kept back to-morrow."

"The devil take it all," cried Richard,
dashing his fist on the table ; " I must teil
some one, or I shall go mad." Notwith-
standing the misery which impelled him, he
always told his story in his own way, and
gave it a complexion more delicate than a
less graceful historian might have been gen-
erous enough to bestow. He had been too
sanguine and enthusiaBtic ; he had made mis-
takes ; he had been led by the duplicity of a
wily World into follies ; he had been unfortu-
nate; those more experienced than himself
had betrayed the confidence it had been only
natural he should repose in them. And
throughout the labyrinth of the relation he
wound his way — a graceful, agile, supple
figure, lightly avoiding an obstacle here,
dexterously overstepping a barrier there,

136 Throügh One Administration.

and untouched by any shadow but that of
misfortune.

At first he spoke chiefly of the compli-
cations which bore heavily upon him; and
theae complications, arising entirely from the
actions of others, committed him to so little
that the Colonel listened with apprehension
more grave than the open confession of greater
Wunders would have awakened in him. " He
would teil more," he thought, " if there were
less to teil."

The grim fancy came to him sometimes
as he listened, that it was as if he watched
a man circling about the edge of a volcano,
drawing nearer and nearer, until at last, in
spite of himself. and impeUed by some dread
necessity, he must plunge headlong in. And
so Richard circled about his crater : sometimes
drawn nearer by the emotion and excitement
of the moment, sometimes withdrawing a
trifle through a caution as momentary, but in
each of his circlings revealing a little more
of the truth. The revelations were principally
connected with the Westoria lands scheme,
and were such in many instances as the
Colonel was not whoUy unprepared to hear.
He had not looked on during the last year for

A Noble Feiend. 137

nothing ; and often when Richard had been
in gay good spirits, and had imagined him-
self telling nothing, his silent companion had
heard his pleasantries with forebodings which
he could not control. He was not deceived
by any appearance of entire frankness, and
knew that he had not been told all, nntil one
dark and stormy night, as he sat in his room,
Richard was announced, and came in pallid,
haggard, beaten by the rain, and at the lowest
ebb of depression. He had had a hard and
bitter day of it, and it had foUowed several
others quite as hard and bitter ; he had been
fagging about the Capitol, going the old
rounds, using the old arguments, trying new
ones, overcoming one obstacle only to find
himself confronted with another, feeling that
he was losing ground where it was a matter
of life and death that he shöuld gain it ;
spirits and courage deserting him just when
he needed them most ; and all this being over,
he dropped into his office to find awaiting
him there, letters containing news which gave
the final blow.

He sat down by the table and began his out-
pourings, graceful, attractive, injured. The
Colonel thought him so, as he watched him

138 Through One Administration.

and listened, recognising meanwhile the incom-
pleteness of bis recital, and making up bis mind
that the time had come when it was safer that
the whole truth should be told. In the hours
in which he had pondered upon the subject,
he gradually decided that such an oceasion
would arrive ; and here it was.

So, at a certain fitting juncture, just as
Richard was lightly skirting a delicate point,
Tredennis leaned forward and laid bis open
band on the table.

"I think," he said, "you had better teil
me the whole story. You have never done it
yet. What do you say ? "

The boarder on the floor below, who had
heard bim Walking to and fro on the first New
Year's night he had spent in Washington and
on many a night since, heard bis firm, regulär
tread again Juring the half hour in which
Richard told, in fitful outbursts, what he had
not found bimself equal to telling before. It
was not easy to teil it in a very clear and
connected manner ; it was necessary to inter-
lard it with many explanations and extenua-
tions ; and even when these were supplied,
there was a baldness about the facts, as they
gradually grouped themselves together, which

A Noble Friend. 139

it was not agreeable to contemplate ; and
Eichard feit this himself gallingly.

"I know how it appears to you," he saiA;
" I know how it sounds ! That is the mad-
dening side of it — it looks so mueh worse
than it really is ! There is not a man living
who would aceuse me of intentional wrong.
Confound it ! I seem to have been forced
into doing the very things it was least natural
to me to do 1 Bertha herseif would say it —
she would understand it. She is always just
and generous 1 "

" Yes," Said the Colonel. " I should say she
had been generous."

"You mean that I have betrayed her
generosity ! " cried Kiehard. " That, of
course I I expeeted it."

**You will find," said the Colonel, 'Hhat
others will say the same thing."

He had heard even more than his worst
misgivmgs had suggested to him, and the
shock of it had destroyed something of his
self-control. For the time being he was in no
lenient mood.

" I know what people will say ! " Kiehard
exclaimed. " Do you suppose I have not
thought of it a thousand times ? I know

140 Thkoögh One Administration.

what I should say if I did not know the cir-
cumstances. It is the circumstances that
ijiake the diflference."

" The faet that they are your circumstances,
and not another man's," began Tredennis ; but
there he ehecked himself. " I beg your
pardon," he said, coldly. " I have no right
to meet your confidence with blame. It will
do no good. If I can give you no help, I
might better be silent. There were circum-
stances which appeared extenuating to you, I
suppose."

He was angered by his own anger, as he had
often been before. He told himself that he
was making the matter a personal cause, as
usual ; but how could he hear that her very
generosity and simplicity had been used against
her by the man who should have guarded her
interests as his first duty, without buming
with sharp and fierce indignation.

'' If I understand you," he said, " your only
hope of recovering what you have lost lies in
the success of the Westoria scheme ? "

^' Yes," answered Amory, with his forehead
on his hands, " that is the diabolical truth ! "

" And you have lost ? "

" Once I was driven into say in g to you that

, A Noble Feiend. 141

if the thing should fall it would mean ruin to
me. That was the truth too."

The Colonel stood still.

" Euin to you ! " he said. *' Euin to your
wife — ^ruin to your children — serious loss to
the old man who "

" Who trusted me 1 " Richard finished,
gnawing his white lips. " I see it in exactly
the same light myself, and it does not make
it easier to beax. That is the way a thing
looks when it fails. Suppose it had sueceeded.
It may succeed yet. They trusted me, and, I
teil you, I trusted myself."

It was easy to see just what despair would
seize him if the worst came to the worst, and
how powerless he would be in its clutches.
He was like a reed beaten by the wind, even
now. A sudden paroxysm of fear feil upon
him.

'' Great God ! " he eried. " It can't fail !
What could I say to them — ^how could I
explain it ? "

A thousand wild thoughts surged through
Tredennis's brain as he heard him. The old
sense of helplessness was strong upon him.
To his upright strength there seemed no way
of judging fairly of, or dealing practically

142 Through One Administration.

with, such dishonour and weakness. What
Standard could be applied to a man who lied
agreeably in bis very thoughts of himself and
bis actions. He bad scarcely made a State-
ment during tbe last bour wbicb bad not
contained some airy falsebood. Of wbom was
it be tbougbt in bis momentary anguisb ?
Not of Bertba — ^not of ber cbildren — ^not of
tbe gentle old scbolar wbo bad always been
lenient witb bis faults. It was of bimself be
was tbinking — of Eicbard Amory robbed of
bis refined picturesqueness by mere circum-
stance, and plaeed by bad luck at a baleful
disadvantage !

For a few minutes tbere was a silence.
Eicbard sat witb bis brow upon bis bands,
bis elbows on tbe table before bim. Tredennis
paeed to and fro, looking downward. At lengtb
Eicbard raised bis bead. He did so because
Tredennis bad stopped bis walk.

" Wbat is it ? '' be asked.

Tredennis walked over to bim and sat down.
He was pale, and wore a set and rigid look,
tbe cbief cbaracteristic of wbicb was tbat
it expressed absolutely notbing. His voice
was just as bard, and expressed as little wbeu
be spoke.

A Noble Friend. 143

" I have a proposition to make to you," he
Said ; " and I will preface it by the Statement
that, as a business man, I am perfectly well
aware that it is almost madness to make it. I
say * almost/ Let it rest there. I wiU assume
the risks von have run in the Westoria scheme.
Invest the money you have charge of in
something safer. You say there are chances
of success. I will take those chances."

" What ! " cried Kichard. ^' What ! "

He sat upright, staring. He did not believe
the evidence of his senses, but Tredennis went
on, without the quiver of a muscle, speaking
steadily, almost monotonously.

" I have money," he said, " more than you
know, perhaps. I have had recently a legacy,
which would of itself make me a comparatively
rieh man. That I was not dependent upon
my pay you knew before. I have no family.
I shall not marry. I am fond of your children,
of Janey, particularly. I should have pro-
vided for her future in any case. You have
made a bad investment in these lands ;
transfer them to me, and invest in something
safer."

" And if the bill fails to pass ! " exclaimed
Richard.

144 Throuoh Oim Administration^.

" If it falls to pass, I shall have the land
on my hands ; if it passes, I shall have made
something by a venture, and Janey will be
the richer; but, as it Stands, the venture
had better be mine than yours. You have
lost enough."

Richard gave his hair an excited toss back-
ward, and stared at him as he had done
before; a slight, cold moisture broke out on
his forehead.

" You mean " he began, breathlessly.

" Do you remember," said Tredennis, " wbat
I told you of the comments people were be-
ginning to make? They have assumed the
form I told you they would. It is best for —
for your children that they should be put an
end to. If I assume these risks, there will bc
no further need for you to use — to exert your-
self." He began to look white about the
mouth, and through his iron stolidity there
was something revealed, before which Richard
feit himself quail. '* The night that Blundel
came in to your wife's reception, and remained
so short a time, he had heard a remark upon
the influence she was exerting over him, and
it had had a bad eflfect. The remark was made
publicly at one of the hoteis." He turned a

A Noble Friend. 145

little whiter, and the something all the strength
in him had held down at the outset leaped to
the surface. " I have no wife to — ^to use," he
Said ; ** if I had, by heavens, I would have
spared her ! "

He had held himself in hand and been silent
a long time, but he could not do it now.

"She is the mother of your children," he
cried, clenching his great hand. " And women
are beginning to avoid her, and men to bandy
her name to and fro. You have deeeived her,
you have thrown away her fortune ; you have
used her as an iiistrument in your schemes.
/, who am only an outsider, with no right to
defend her—/ defend her for her father's sake,
for herchüd's, for her own ! You are on the
verge of ruin and disgrace. I offer you the
chance to retrieve yourself — ^to retrieve her !
Take it, if you are a man ! "

Richard had fallen back in his chair, breath-
less and ashen. In all his imaginings of what
the future might hold, he had never thought
of such a possibility as this — that it should be
this man who would turn upon him and place
an interpretation so fiercely unsparing upon
what he had done I Under all his admiration
and respect for the colonel, there had been

VOL. m. L

146 Throuoh One Administration.

bidden, it must be admitted, an abnost un-

conscious toucb of contempt for bim, as a

ratber beavy and unsopbisticated personage,

scarcely versatile or agile enougb, and formed

in a mould somewbat obsolete and qnixotic — a,

safe person to confide in, and one to invite

confidence passively by bis belief in wbat was

presented to bim; a man to make a good

listener and to encourage one to believe in

one's own Statements, certainly not a man to

embarrass and discourage a bistorian by asking

difficult questions or translating too bterally

wbat was said. He bad not asked questions

until to-nigbt, and bis face bad said very little

for bim on any oecasion. Among otber tbings,

Riebard bad secretly — tbougb leniently — ^felt

him to be a trifle stolid, and bad amiably for-

given bim for it. It was tbis very tbing wbieh

made tbe sudden cbange appear so keen an

injustice and injury ; it amounted to a breach

of confidence, tbat he sbould bave formed a

deliberate and obstinate opinion of bis own,

entirely unbiased by tbe presentation of the

case ofiered to bim. He bad spoken more

tban once, it was true, in a manner wbicb bad

suggested prejudice, but it bad been tbe preju-

dice of tbe primeval mind, unable to adjust

A Noble Feiekdu 147

itself to modern conditions and easily disre-

.^arded by more experienced. But now ! — he

'Mras stolid no longer. His first words had

Startled Eichard beyond expression. His face

Said more for him than his words ; it burned

v^-hite with the fire he had hidden so long ; his

great frame quivered with the passion of the

moment ; when he had clenched his hand it

loLad been in the vain eflfort to hold it still ; and

yet, the man who saw it recognised in it only

the wrath and scorn which had reference to

himscK. Perhaps it was best that it should

have been so, best that his triviality was so

complete that he could see nothing which was

not in some way connected with his own

Personality.

" Tredennis," he gasped out, " you are

terribly harsh ! I did not think you "

"Even if I could lie and palter to you,"
Said Tredennis, his clenched hand still on the
table, "this is not the time for it. I have
tried before to make you face the truth, but
you have refused to do it. Perhaps you had
made yourself belle ve what you told me —
that no härm was meant or done. / know
what härm has been done. I have heard the
talk of the hotel corridors and clubs ! " His

L 2

148 Theoüoh One Administration.

band clenched itself haxder and he dröw in^
a sharp breath.

" It is time tliat you should*give this thing "I
up," he continued, with deadly determination.
** And I am willing to Shoulder it. Who eise
would do the same thing ? "

"No one eise," said Richard, bitterly.
" And it is not for my sake you do it, either ;
it is for the sake of some of your ideal fancies
that are too fine for ois worldlings to under-
stand, I swear ! " And he feit it specially
hard that it was so.

" Yes," replied the Colonel, " I suppose you
might call it that. It is not for your sake, as
you say. It has been one of my fancies that
a man might even deny himself for the sake
of an — an idea, and I am not denying myself.
I am only giving to your child, in one way,
what I meant to give to her in another. She
would be willing to share it with her mother,

I think."

And then, somehow, Richard began to feel
that this oflfer was a demand, and that, even
if bis sanguine mood should come upon him
again, he would not find it exactly easy to
avoid it. It seemed actually as if there was
something in this man, — some principle of

A Noble Friend. 149

^"trength, of feeling, of conviction — which

^Jmost constituted a right by whicli lie might

^iontend for what he asked ; and before it, in

liis temporary abasement and anguish of mind,

lüchard Amory faltered. He said a great

deal, it is true, and argued bis case as he had

^xgued it before, being betrayed in the course

of the argument by the exigences of the case

to add factsaswell as fancies. He endeavoured

to adom his position 'as mueh as possible,

and, naturally, his failure was not entire.

There were hopes of the passage of the bill,

sometimes strong hopes, it seemed ; if the

xnoney he had invested had been his own, if

it had not been for the failure of his specula-

"fcions in other quarters, if so much had not

depended upon failure and success, he would

liave run all risks willingly. There were, indeed,

xnoments when it almost appeared that his com-

panion was on the point of making a capital

Investment, and being much favoured thereby.

" It is really not half so bad as it seems,"

he said, gaining cheerfulness as he talked.

" But, after such a day as I have had, a man

loses courage and cannot look at things col-

lectedly. I have been up and down in the

Scale a score of time in the last eight hoursi

150 Through One Administration.

That IS where the wear and tear comes in. A
great deal depends on Blundel ; and I had a
talk with him which carried üs further than
we have ever been before."

" Further," said Tredennis. " In what
direction ? "

Richard flushed slightly.

" I think I sounded him pretty well," he
said. '* There is no use mincing matters ; it
has to be done. We have never been able to
get at his views of things exactly, and I won't
say he went very far this aftemoon, but I was
IQ a desperate mood, and — ^well, I think I
reached bottom. He half promised to call at
the house this evening. I dare say he is with
Bertha now."

Something in his flush, which had a sHghtly
excited and triumphant air, something in his
look and tone, cansed Tredennis to start in
his chair.

" What is he there for ? " he said. " What
do you mean ? "

Richard thrust his hands in his pockets.
For a moment he seemed to have lost all
his grace and refinement of charm — for the
moment he was a distinctly coarse and
xindraped human being.

A Noble Friend. 151

"He has gone to make an evening call/*
he Said. " And if she manages him as well as
she has managed him before — as well as she
can manage any man she chooses to take in
hand, and yet not give him more than a smile
or so — your Investment, if you make it, may
not tum out such a bad one."

CHAPTER VII.

AN IMPORTANT INTERVIEW.

Bertha had spent the greater part of the
day with her children, as she had spent part
of many days lately. She had gone up to.
the nursery after breakfast to see Jack and
Janey at their lessons ; and had remained
with them and given herseif up to their enter-
tainment. She was not well ; the weather
was bad ; she might give herseif a holiday,
and she would spend it in her own way, in
the one refuge which never failed her.

^^ It is always quiet here/' she said to her-
self. " If I could give up all the rest — all of
it — and spend all my days here, and think of
nothing eise, I might be better. There are
women who live so. I think they must be
better in every way than I am,— and happier.

An Important Interview. 153

I am sure I should have been happier if I had
begun so long ago."

And as she sat, with Janey at her side, in
the large chair which held them both, her
arm thrown round the child's waist, there
came to her a vague thought of what the
unknown future might form itself into when
she "began again." It would be beginning
again when the sea was between the new life
and the old ; everything would be left behind
— ^but the children. She would live as she
had lived in Virginia, always with the children
— always with the children. " It is the only
ßafe thing," she thought, clasping Janey closer.
" Nothing eise is safe for a woman who is im-
happy. K one is happy one may be gay, and
look on at the world with the rest ; but there
are some who must not look on — who dare
not."

"Mamma," said Janey, "you are holding
me a little too close, and your face looks — it
looks — as if you were thinking."

Bertha laughed to reassure her. They were
used to this gay, soft laugh of hers, as the
rest of the world was. If she was silent, if the
room was not bright with the merriment she
had always filled it with, they feit themselves

154 Through One Administration.

a trifle injured, and demanded their natural
rights with. juvenile imperiousness. ^* Mamma
always laughs/' Jack had once announced to
a roomful of Company. ^* She plays new
games with us and laughs, and we laugh, too.
Maria and Susan are not funny. Mamma is
funny, and like a little girl grown up. We
always have fun when she comes into the
nursery." " It is something the same way in
the parlour," Planefield had said, showing his
teeth amiably ; and Bertha, who was standing
near Colonel Tredennis, had laughed in a
manner to support her reputation, but had
said nothing. So she laughed now, not very
vivaciously, perhaps. "That was very im-
proper, Janey," she said, " to look as if I was
thinking. It is bad enough to be thinking,
It must not occur again."

" But if you were thinking of a story to
teil US," suggested Jack, graciously, "it
wouldn't matter, you see. You might go on
thinking."

"But the story was not a new one," she
answered, "It was sad. I did not like it
myself "

" We should like it," said Janey.

" If it's a story," remarked Jack, twisting

An Important Interview. 155

"fcle string round liis top, " it's all right. There
"^as a story Uncle Philip told us."

" Suppoae you teil it to me/' said Bertha.

" It was about a knight," said Janey, " who

Xirent to a great battle. It was very sorrow-

£il. He was strong, and happy, and bold, and

'the king gave him a sword and armour tbat

glittered and was beautiful. And bis hair

"waved in the breeze. And be was young and

l)rave. And bis horse arcbed its neck. And

^lie knigbt longed to go and figbt in the

iDattle, and was glad and not afraid ; and the

people looked on and praised him, because

t^hey thought he would figbt so well. But just

«ts the battle began, before he had even drawn

tis sword, a stray shot came and he feil. And

i^liile the battle went on he lay there dying,

^ith bis band on bis breast. And at night,

when the battle was over, the stars came out,

he lay and looked up at them, and at the

dark-blue sky, and wondered why he had

been given his sword and armour, and why he

had been allowed to feel so strong, and glad,

and eager — only for that. But he did not

know. There was no one to teil him. And

he died. And the stars shone down on his

bright armour and his dead face."

156 Through One Administration.

'*! didn't like it myself," commented Jack.
" It wasn't rauch of a story. I told him so."

"He was sorry he told it," said Janey,
" because I cried. I don't think he meant to
teil such a sad story."

" He wasn't funny that day," observed
Jack. " Sometimes he isn't funny at all, and
he sits and thinks about things ; and then, if
we make him teil us a story, he doesn't teil a
good one. He used to be nicer than he
is now."

"I love him," said Janey, faithfully; "I
think he is nice all the time."

" It wasn't much of a story, that is true,**
said Bertha. " There was not enough of it."

" He died too soon," said Jack.

"Yes," said Bertha; "he died too soon,
that was it — too soon." And the laugh she
ended with had a sound which made her
shudder.

She got u{) from her rocking-chair quickly.

" We won't teil stories," she said. " We
will play. We will play ball and blind-man's-
buff— and run about and get warm. That
will be better."

And she took out her ' handkerchief and
tied it over her eyes with unsteady hands^

An Important Interview. 157

laughing again — laughing while the children
laughed too.

They played until the room rang with tlieir
merriment. They had not been so gay
together for many a day, and when the game
was at an end they tried another and another,
until they were tired and ready for their
nursery dinner. Bertha did not leave them
even then. She did not expect Eichard home
until their own dinner-hour in the evening, so
she sat at the children's table and helped
them herseif, in the nurse's place ; and they
were in high spirits, and loquacious and
confidential.

When the meal was over, they sat by the
nursery fire, and Meg feil asleep in her
mother's arms ; and after she had laid her
on her bed, Bertha came back to Jack and
Janey; and read and talked to them until
dusk began to close in about them. It was,
as they sat so together, that a sealed package
was brought to her by a servant, who said it
had been left at the door by a messenger.
It contained two letters — one addressed to
Senator Blundel, and one to herseif — and
both were in Eichard's band.

"I suppose something has detained him,

158 Thbouoh One Administration»

and I am not to wait dinner," she thought,
as she opened the envelope bearing her own
name.

The same thing had occurred once or twice
before, so it made but little impressibn upon
her. There were the usual perfectly natural
excuses. He had been very hard at work
and would be obliged to remain out until
some time past their dinner hour. He had
an engagement at one of the hoteis, and
could dine there ; he was not quite sure that
he should be at home until late. Then he
added, just before closing —

" Blundel said something about calling this
evening. He had been having a hard day of
it, and said he wanted a change. I had a
very satisfactory talk with him, and I think
he begins to see the rights of our case.
Entertain him as charmingly as possible, and
if he is not too tired and is in a good humour,
band him the inclosed letter. It contains
testimony which ought to be a strong
argument, and I think it will be."

ßertha looked at the letter. It was not at
all imposing, and seemed to contain nothing
more than a slip of paper. She put it down
on the mantel and sighed faintly.

An Important Interview. 159

" If he knew what a Service he would do
me by seeing the rights of the case," she said
to herseif, " I think he would listen to their
arguments. I think he likes me well enough
to do it. I belle ve he would enjoy being kind
to me. If this should be the end of it all, it
would be worth the trouble of being amusing
and amiable one evening."

But she did "not look forward with any
great pleasure to the prospect of what was
before her. Perhaps her day in the nursery
had been a little too much for her ; she was
tired and would have been glad to be left
alone. But this was not to be. She must
attire herseif, in aU her bravery, and sing and
laugh and be gay a little longer. How often
had she done the same thing before ? How
often would she do it again ?

"There are some people who are born to
play comedy," she said afterwards, as she
stood before her mirror, dressing. ** They can
do nothing eise. I am one of them. Very
little is expected of me, only that I shall
always laugh and make jokes. If I were to
try tragedy, that would be a better jest than
all the rest. If I were to be serious, what a
joke that would be ! "

160 Through One Administration.

She thought, as she had done a thousand
times, of a portrait of berself which had
been painted three years before. It had
been her Christmas giffc to Richard, and had
been considered a great success. It was a
wonderfuUy spirited likeness, and the artist
had been fortunate in catching her brightest
look.

" It is the expression that is so marvellous,"
Richard had often said. " When I look at it,
I always expect to hear you laugh."

"Are they never tired of it," she said,
*^ never tired of hearing me laugh ? If I
were to stop some day and say, *See, I am
tired of it myself. I have tears as well as

the rest of you. Let me ' " She checked

herseif, her hands had begun to tremble —
her voice ; she knew too weU what was
Coming upon her. She looked at herseif in
the glass.

" I must dress myself carefully," she said,
"if I am to look vivacious. One's attire is
called upon to do a great deal for one when
one has a face like that."

Outwardly, her attire had done a great deal
for her when, after she had dined alone, she
sat awaiting her guest. The fire bumed

An Important Interview. 161

brightly, the old songs lay upon the piano, a
low stand with a pretty coflfee service upon it
was drawn near her, a gay little work-basket
containing some trifle of graceful work was
on her knee. Outside, the night was de-
cidedly unpleasant. " So unpleasant," she
Said to herseif, "that it will surprise me if
he comes." But though by eight o'clock the
rain was Coming down steadily, at half-past
eight she heard the familiär heavy tread
upon the door-step, and her visitor presented
himself

What sort of humour he was in when he
made his entry, Bertha feit that it was not
easy to decide ; but it Struck her that it was
not a usual humour, and that the fatigues of
the day had left their mark upon him. He
looked by no means fresh, and, by the time
he had seated himself, she feit that something
had disturbed him, and that it was true that
he needed distraction.

It had always been very simple distraction
she oflFered him, he had never demanded
subtleties from her or any very great intel-
lectual effort; his ideas upon the subject of
the feminine mind were, perhaps, not so
advanced as they might have been, and

VOL. IIL M

162 Thboügh One Administbation.

belonged rather to the days and surroundings
of his excellent, hard-worked mother and
practica!, unimaginative sisters, than to a
more brilliant world. Given a comfortable
seat in the pretty room, the society of this
pretty and smiling little person, who poured
out his coffee for him, enjoyed his jokes, and
prattled gaily of things pleasant and amusing,
he was perfectly satisfied. What he feit the
need of, was rest and light recreation, cheer-
fulness and appreciation, a sense of relief from
the turmoil and complications of the struggling,
manoeuvring, over-reaehing, ambitious world
he lived in.

Knowing this, Bertha had given him what
he enjoyed, and she offered him no otber
entertainment this evening. She gave him
his cup of coffee and talked to him as he
drank it, telling him an amusing story or so
of the children or of people he knew.

"I have been in the nursery all day," she
Said. " I have been playing blind-man's-buff
and telling stories. You have never been in
the nursery, have you? You are not like
Colonel Tredennis, who thinks the society
there is better than that we have in the
parlour."

An Important Interview. 163

" Perhaps he's not so far wrong," said her
guest, bluntly, " though I have never been in
the nnrsery myself. I have a nursery of my
own up at the Capitol, and I don't always
find it easy to manage."

"The children fight, I have heard," said
Bertha, " and sometimes call each other
names, and it is even reported that they
snatch at each other's toys and break those
they cannot appropriate. I am afraid the
discipline is not good ! "

" It isn't," he answered, " or there isn't
enough of it."

He set his coffee-cup down and watched
her as she leaned back in her chair and
oecupied herseif with the contents of her
work-basket.

" Do you go into the nursery often ? " he
asked ; " or is it out of the fashion ? "

It is out of the fashion," she answered,

but " She stopped and let her work

rest on her knee as she held it. " Will you
teil me why you ask me that ? " she said, and
her face changed as she spoke.

"I asked you because I didn't know," he
answered. " It seemed to me you couldn't
have much time for things of that sort. You

M 2

164 Through One Administbation.

generally seem to be pretty busy with one
thing and another. I don't know much about
fashionable life and fashionable women. The
women I knew when I was a boy — my own
mother and her sisters — spent the most of
their time with their children ; and it wasn't
such a bad way either. They were pretty
good women."

" Perhaps it was the best way," said Bertha,
" and I dare say they were better for it. I
dare say we compare very unfavotirably with
them."

" You don't compare at all," he retumed.
" I should not compare you. I don't know
how it would work with you. They got old
pretty soon, and lost their good looks ; but
they were safe, kind-hearted creatures, who
tried to do their duty and make the best of
things. I don't say they were altogether right
in their views of life ; they were narrow, I
suppose, and ran into extremes ; but they had
ways a man likes to think of, and did very
little mischief."

"I could scarcely estimate the amount of
mischief I do," said Bertha, applying herseif
to her work cheerfuUy ; *' but I do not think
my children are neglected. Colonel Tredennis

An Import ant Interview. 165

would probably give a certificate to that efiect.
They are clothed quite warmly, and are
occasionally allowed a meal, and I make a
practice of recognising them when I meet
them in the street."

She was wondering if it would not be
better to reserve the letter until some more
auspicious occasion. It Struck her that in the
course of bis day's fatigues he had encountered
some problem of which he found it difficult
to rid himself. There were signs of it in bis
manner. He wore a perturbed, pre-occupied
expression, and looked graver than she had
ever seen him. He sat with bis hands in bis
pockets, bis bair on end, bis bluff countenance
a ratber deeper colour than usual, and bis
eyes resting upon her.

" Tbis isn't an easy world," be said, '^ and I
suppose it is no easier for women than for
men. I sbouldn't like to be a woman myself,
and have to follow my leader, and live in one
groove from beginning to end. It is natural
that some sbould feel the temptation to try
to get out of it, and use their power as men
use theirs; but it does not pay, it can't.
Women were meant to be good — to be good
and honest and true, and — and innocent."

166 Through One Administration.

It was an amazingly ingenuous creed, and
he presented it with a rough simplicity and
awkwardness which might have been laugh-
able but for their heavy sincerity. Bertha feit
this seriousness instantaneously, and looking
up, saw in his sharp little eyes, a Suggestion
of feeling which. startled her.

" Wondering what Tm thinking of ? " he
Said. " Well, Fm thinking of you. IVe
thought of you pretty often lately, and to-
night Fve a reason for having you in my
mind."

" What is the reason ? " she asked^ more
startled than before.

He thrust his hands deeper into his pockets ;
there was no mistaking the evidences of strong
emotion in his face.

^'I am a friend of yours," he said. "You
know that ; youVe known it some time.
My opinion of you is, that you are a good
little woman — the right sort of a good little
woman — and I have a great deal of confidence
in you."

" I hope so," Said Bertha.

She feit that as he gained warmth and
colour, she lost them ; she thought of the
letter which lay on the mantelpiece within

ti

An Important Interview. 167

a few feet of him, and wished that it was
not so near. There had been evil spoken of
her, and he had heard it. She realised that,
and knew that she was upon her defence,
even while she had no knowledge of what
she was to defend herseif against.

I hope so," she said again, tremulously.
I hope so, indeed ; " and her eyes met his
with a helplessness more touching than any
appeal she could have made.

It so moved him that he could remain quiet
no longer, but sprang to his feet and drew his
hand from his pocket and rubbed it excitedly
over his upright hair.

" D it ! " he broke forth, " let them say

what they will — ^let what will happen, TU
believe in you ! Don*t look at me like that ;
you are a good little woman, but you are in
the wrong place. There are lies and intrigues
going on about you, and you are too — too
bright and pretty to be judged fairly by Out-
siders. You don't know what you are mized
up in ; how should you ? Who is to teil you ?
These fellows who dangle about and make fine
Speeches are too smooth-tongued even when
they know enough. TU teil you. I never
paid you compliments or made love to you,

168 Through One Administration.

did I ? Fm no good at that, but TU teil you
the truth, and give you a bit of good advice.
People are beginning to talk, you see, and teil
lies. They have brought their lies to me ; I
don't believe them, but others will. There are
men and women who come to your house, who
will do you no good, and are more than likely
to do you härm. They are a lot of intriguers
and lobbjists. You don't want that set here.
You want honest friends and an innocent,
respectable home for your children, and a
name they won't be ashamed of. Send the
whole set packing, and cut yourself loose from
them."

Bertha stood up also. She had forgotten
the little work-basket, and still held it in her
hands, suspended before her.

" Will you teil me," she said, " what the lies
were — ^the lies you heard ? "

Perhaps she thought, with a hopeless pang,
they were not lies at all ; perhaps he had only
heard what was the truth, that she had been
told to try to please him, that his good-will
might be gained to serve an end. Looked at
from Kichard's stand-point, that had been a
very innocent thing ; looked at from his stand-
point, it might seem just what it had seemed

An Important Interview. 169

to herseif, even in the reckless, desperate
moment when she had given way.

He paused a moment — ^barely a moment,
and then answered her.

" Yes," he said, " I will teil you if you want
to know. There has been a big scheme on
hand for some time — there are men who must
be influenced ; I am one of them ; and people
say that the greater part of the work is carried
on in your parlours here, and that you were
set on me because you were a clever little
manoeuvrer, and knew your business better
than I should be likely to suspect. That
is what they say, and that is what I must
believe, because "

He stopped short. He had drawn nearer
the mantelpiece, and as he spoke some object
lying upon it caught his eye. It was the letter
directed to himself, lying with the address
upwards, and he took it in his hand.

"What is this?" he demanded. "Who
leftithere?"

Bertha stood perfectly motionless. Richard's
words came back to her : " Give it to him if
he is in a good humour. It contains argu-
ments which I think will convince him.".
Then she looked at BlundeFs face. If there

170 Through One Administration.

could be any moment inore unfit than another
for the presentation of arguments, it was this
particular one. And never before had she
liked him so well or valued bis good opinion
so highly as she did now, when he tumed bis
common, angry, honest face upon her.

'' What is it ? " be said again. " Teil me."

She thought of Kichard once more, and tben
of the chUdren sleeping up stairs, and of the
quiet, innocent day she had spent with them.
They did not know that she was an intriguing
woman whom people talked of ; she had never
realised it berself to the füll until this moment.
They had delicately forborne giving any name
to the tbing she had done ; but this man, wbo
judged matters in a straightforward fasbion,
wonld find a name for it. But there was only
one answer for her to make.

" It is a letter I was to give you," she said.

" And it is from your husband ? "

" I have not read it," she replied.

He stopped short a moment and looked at
her — with a sudden Suggestion of doubt and
bewilderment that was as bad as a blow.

*' Look here ! " he said. " You were going
to give it to me — you intended to do it ? "

^^Yes."

An Important Interview. 171

He gave her another look — amazement,
anger, disbelief, struggling with each other in
it — and then thrust his obstinate fists into bis
pockets again and planted himself before her
Hke a rock.

"By the Lord!" he said. "I won't
believe it ! "

The hard common sense which had been his
stronghold and the stand-by of his constituents
for many a year came to his rescue. He might
not know much of women, but he had seen
intrigue, and trickery, and detected guilt, and
it Struck him if these things were here, they
were before him in a new form.

'*Now," he said, "teil me who gave it
to you ? "

" You will know that," she answered,
"when you read it."

"Teil me," he demanded, "if you know
what is in it."

" I know something," she replied, " of
what is in it."

" By Jove 1 " he exclaimed, " Fd give a
great deal to know how much ! "

Only Eichard could have told him how
much or how little ; and he was not there.

" Come," he said, as she made no reply,

172 Throügh One Administration.

" they might easily deceive you. Teil me
what you know, and I will believe you — and
there are very few women in your place I
would say as much to."

•' I do not think," she answered, *' that they
have deceived me."

" Then/' he retumed, bis face hardening,
*' you have deceived me ! "

" Yes," she answered, turning white, " I
suppose I have."

There was a moment of dead silence, in
which his shrewd eyes did their work as well
as they had done it at any tiine during his
fifty years of life Then he spoke to her again.

'* They wanted me here because they wanted
to makejise of me," he said. " You knew that ? ''

'*They did not put it in that way," she
answered. " I dare say you know that."

" You were to befool me as far as you
could, and make the place agreeable to me
— you knew that ? "

She turned paler.

" I — I have liked you very sincerely 1 " she
broke forth, piteously. " I have liked you !
Out of all the rest, that one thing was true !
Don't — ah, don't think it was not ! "

His expression for a moment was a curiously

An Important Interview. 173

undecided one ; he was obliged to rally himself
with a Sharp rub at his hair.

" Fll teil you what I think of that when you
have answered me another question," he said.
" There is a person who has done a great deal
of work in this matter, and has been very
anxious about it, probably because he has in-
vested in it more money than he can spare —
buying lands and doing one thing and another.
That person is your husband, Mr. Eichard
Amory. Teil me if you knew that."

The blood rushed to her face, and then left
it again.

" Eichard 1 " she exclaimed. " Eichard ! "
and she caught at the mantel and held to it.

His eyes did not leave her for an instant.
He nodded his head with a significance whose
meaning was best known to himself.

** Sit down," he said. " I see you do not
know that."

She did as he told her. It was as if such a
flash of light .had Struck across her mental
Vision as half blinded her.

" Not Eichard 1 " she cried out ; and even
as she said it, a thousand proofs rushed back
upon her and spoke the whole shameful truth
for themselves.

174 Through One Administration.

Blundel came nearer to her, his homely,
angry face, in spite of its anger, expressing
honest good feeling as strongly as any much
handsomer one might have done.

" I knew there had been deep work some-
where," he said. *' I saw it from the first. As
for you, you have been treated pretty badly.
I supposed they persuaded you that you might
as well amuse one man as another — and I was
the man. I daresay there is more behind than
1 Qan see. You had nothing to gain as far as
you knew, that's piain enough to me."

" No," she exclaimed, *' it was not I who was
to gain ! They did not think of — of me ! "

" No," he went on, " they lost sight of you
rather, even when they had a use for you. It's
apt to be the way. It's time some one should
think of you, and I mean to do it. I am not
going to say more against those who — made
the mistake" (with a resentful shuiHe of his
Shoulders as he put it thus mildly), "than 1
can help, but I am going to teil you the truth.
I have heard ugly stories for some time, and
IVe had my suspicions of the truth of them,
but I meant to wait for proof, and it was
given me this afternoon. More was said to me
than it was safe to say to an honest man, and

An Impoktant Intekview. 175

I let the person who talked go as far as he
would, and he was too desperate to be
cautious. I knew a bold move was to be made,
and I guessed it would be made to-night."

He took the envelope from his pocket,
where he had tucked it unopened. His face
grew redder and hotter.

" If it were not for you," he said, " if I
didn't have faith in your being the honest
little woman I took you for, if I didn't believe
you spoke the truth when you said you liked
me as honestly as I liked you — though the
Lord knows there is no proof except that I do
believe you in spite of everything — Vd have
the thing spread the length and breadth of the
land by to-morrow morning, and there would
be such an uproar as the country has not seen
for a year or so."

"Waitl" said Bertha, half-starting from
her seat. " I did not understand before ! This
is too much shame ! I thought it was — only a
letter ! I did not know "

He went to the fire.

" I believe that, too," he said grimly ; " but
it is not a little thing I'm doing. Fm denying
myself a great deal. Td give five years of my
life " He straightened out his short, stout

176 Through One Administration.

arm and closed band with a robust gesture,
and then checked himself. " You don't know
what is in it. I don't know. I have not
looked at it. There it goes," and he tossed
it into the fire.

" The biggest fool of all," he said, ** is the
fool who takes every man for a knave. Do
they think a country like this has been run
for a Century by liars and thieves ? There
have been liars and thieves enough, but not
enough to bring it to a stand-still, and that
seems to argue that there has been an honest
man or so to keep a band on their throats.
When there are none left — well, it won't be
as safe to belong to the nation as it is to-day,
in spite of all that's bad in it."

The envelope had flamed up, and then died
down into tindery blaekness. He pointed to it.

" You can say it is there," he said, " and
that I didn't open it, and they may thank you
for it. Now I am going."

Bertha rose. She put her band on the
mantel again.

" If I do not thank you as I ought," she
said, brokenly, " you must forgive me. I see
all that you have spared me, but — I have had
a heavy blow." He paused to Iqok at her,

An Important Interview. 177

rubbing bis upright hair for the last time, bis
little eyes twinkling witb a suspicious brigbt-
ness, wbicb had its softuess, too. He came
back and took her band, and beld it in an
awkward, kindly clasp.

"You are a good little woman," be said.
" I'll say it to you again. You were not cut
out to be made anytbing eise of. You won't
be anytbing eise. You are young to be disap-
pointed and unbappy. I know all tbat — and
tbere doesn't seem mucb to say. Advice
wouldn't amount to mucb, and I don't know
tbat tbere is any to give."

Tbey moved slowly towards tbe door to-
getber. Wben tbey stood upon tbe tbresbold,
he dropped her band as awkwardly as be had
taken it, and made a gesture toward tbe
stairway, tbe suspicious brightness of bis eyes
more manifest than ever.

" Your cbildren are up tbere asleep," be said
unsteadily. " Go to them."

He tumed away and sbrugged bimself into
his overcoat at tbe bat- stand, opened the door
for bimself, and went out of the house without
anotber word.

VOL. in. N

CHAPTER VIII.

RICHARD AT BAY.

The last words of his half-reluctant,
half-exultant confession had scarcely leffc
Richard Amory's Ups when Tredennis rose
from his chair.

" If you can," he said, *' teil me the literal
truth. Blundel is at your house with your
Wife. There is something she is to do.
What is it ? ''

" She is to hand him an envelope
containing a slip of paper," said Richard,
doggedly. " That is what she is to do."

Tredennis crossed the room, and took his
hat from its place.

" Will you come with me," he said, " or
shall I go alone ? "

" Where ? " asked Richard.

Tredennis glanced at his watch.

Eichard at Bay. 179

" He would not call until late, perhaps/*
he Said, " and she would not give it to him
at once. It is ten now. We may reach
there in time to spare her that, at least."

Kichard bit his lip.

" There seems to be a good deal of talk
of sparing her," he said. "Nobody spares
me. Every folly I have been guilty of is
exaggerated into a crime. Do you suppose
that fellow isn't used to that sort of thing ?
Do you suppose T should have run the risk
if he had not shown his band this afternoon ?
She knows nothing of what she is to give
him. There is no härm done to her."

"How is he to know she is not in the
plot ? *' said Tredennis. " How is he to guess
that she is not-^-what she has been made to
seem to be ? What insult is he not at liberty
to oflfer her if he chooses ? "

" She will take care of herseif," said Eichard.
" Let her alone for that."

" By heaven ! " said Tredennis. '* She has
been let alone long enough. Has she ever
been anjrthing eise but alone ? Has there
been one human creature among all she
knew to help or defend or guide her? Who
has given her a thought so long as she

N 2

180 Throuoh One Administration.

amused them and laughed with the rest ?
Who "

Bichard got up, a devouring curiosity in
bis face.

" What is the matter with you ? " he said.
" Have you been ? "

The words died away. The Colonel's
gleaming eye stopped him.

" We will go at once, if you please/' said
Tredennis, and strode out of the room
before bim.

When they reached the house, Bertha was
stiU Standing where her guest had leffc her a
few moments before, and but one glance at
her face was needed to show both of them
that something unusual had occurred.

" You have had Blundel here ? " Richard
asked, with an attempt at bis usual manner,
which ill-covered bis excitement. " We
thought we saw bim crossing the street."

" Yes," she answered. " He has just left

me.

She tumed suddenly and walked back to
the hearth.

" He left a message for you," she said.

"That is it " and she pointed to the

last bit of tinder flickering on the coals.

Richard at Bay. 181

" The — ^letter ! " exclaimed Eichard.

*'Yes/' she answered. "Do you want
Colonel Tredennis to hear about the letter,
ßichard, or does he know ahready ? "

" He knows everything," answered Richard,
"as every one eise will to-morrow or the
day affcer.''

For a moment his despair made him so
reckless tibat he did not make an eflfort at
defence. He flung himself into a chair and
gave himself up to the misery of the hour.

" You knew," said Bertha, looking towards
Tredennis, "and did not teU me. Yes, I
forgot/' with a bitter little smile, "there
was something you wamed me of once and
I would not listen, and perhaps you thought
I would not listen now. If you know, will
you teil me what was in the letter ? I do
not know yet, and I want to hear it put
into words. It was money — or an ofFer of
money ? Teil me, if you please."

"It was money," said Richard, defiantly.
"And there are others who have taken the
same thing peacefully enough."

" And I was to give it to him because —
because he was a little more difi&cult, and
seemed to be my friend. Do all female

182 Through One Administration.

lobbyists do such things, Richard, or was I
honoured with a special service ? "

" It is not the first time it has been done,*'
he answered, " and it won't be the last."

" It is the first time I have done it," she
retumed, "and it will be the last. The —
risk is too great."

Her voice shook a little, but it was perfectly
cold ; and though her eyes were dilated, such
fire as might have been in them was quenched
by some light to which it would have been
hard to give a name.

** I do not mean the risk to myself/' she
Said to Richard. " I do not count. I meant
risk to you. When he bumed the letter he
Said, • Teil them I did it for your sake, and
that it is safer for them that I did it.' "

" What eise did he say ? " asked Richard,
desperately. ^' He has evidently changed his
mind since this aftemoon."

" He told me you had a reason for your
interest in the scheme, which was not the one
you gave me. He told me you had invested
iargely in it, and could not affbrd to lose."

Richard started up, and turned helplessly
towards Tredennis. He had not expected
this, just yet at least.

Richard AT Bay. 183

" I— I— " he faltered.

The Colonel spoke without liffcing his eyes
Tom the floor.
" Will you let me explain that ? " he asked.
"^ * I think it would be better/'

There was a moment's silence, in which
IBertha looked from one to the other.
'' You ? " she Said.

Richard's lids feil. He took a paper-knife
Tom the table he leaned against, and began
play with it nervously. He had become
haggard, coarsened, weakened copy of
Idniself; his hair hung in damp elf-locks
over his forehead ; his lips were pale and
dry; he bit them to moisten them.

«The money," said Tredennis, "is mine.
It was a foolish investment, perhaps, but
the money-is mine."

" Yours 1 " said Bertha. " You invested in
the Westoria lands ! "

She put her hand in its old place on
the mantel, and a stränge laugh feil from
her Hps.

" Then I have been lobbying for you
too/' she said. "I — wish I had been more
successful."

Richard put his hand up, and pushed

184 Through One Administration.

back the damp, falling locks of hair from
his forehead restlessly.

"/ made the investment," he said, *'and
I am the person to blame, as usual ; but
you would have believed in it yourself."

"Yes," she answered; *^ I should have
believed in it, I dare say. It has been easy
to make me believe, but I think I should
also have believed in a few other things —
in the possibüity of there being honour and
good faith "

She paused an instant, and then began
again.

" You told me once that you had never
regarded me seriously. I think that has been
the difficulty — and perhaps it was my fault.
It will not be necessary to use me any more,
and I dare say you will let me go away for
a while after a week or so. I think it would
be better."

She left her place to cross the room to the
door. On her way there she paused before
Colonel Tredennis.

" I beg your pardon," she said, and went on.

At the door she stopped again one moment,
fronting them both, her head held erect, her
eyes large and bright.

Richard at Bay. 185

" When Senator Blundel left me/' she said,
** he told me to go to my children. If you
will excuse me, I will go."

And she made a stately little bow, and
left them.

CHAPTER IX.

A SOCIAL PERIL.

The great social event of the foUowing
week was to be the ball given yearly for the
benefit of a certain populär and fashionable
charity. There was no charity so fashionable,
and consequently no ball so well attended ;
everybody was more or less interested, every-
body of importance appeared at it, showing
themselves for a few moments at least. Even
Mrs. Merriam, who counted among the
privüeges earned by a long and unswervingly
faithful social career, the one of imniunity
from all ordinary society duties, found herseif
drawn into the maelstrom, and enroUed on
the list of patronesses.

" You may do all the work, my dear,"
she Said to Mrs. Sylvestre, ** and I will
appropriate the credit."

A Social Peril. 187

But she was not öo entirely idle as she
professed to be, and indeed spent several
mornings briskly driving from place to place
in her comfortable camage, and distinguished
herseif by exhibiting an executive ability, a
promptness and decision in difficulty, which
were regaxded with secret awe and admiration
by her younger and less experienced col-
leagues. She had been out doing such work
on the aftemoon of the day before the ball,
and retumed home at her usual hour. But
not in her usual equable frame of mind.
This was evident when she entered the room
where Mrs. Sylvestre sat talking to Colonel
Tredennis, who had called. There were
indeed such signs of mental disturbance in
her manner, that Mrs. Sylvestre, rising to
greet her, observed them at once.

"I am afraid you have had an exciting
moming," she said, "and have done too
much work."

" My dear," was the reply, " nothing could
be more true than that I have had an exciting
morüing."

" I am sorry for that," said Agnes.

" I am sorry for it," • said Mrs. Merriam ;
" more sorry than I can say." Then tuming to

188 Through One Administration.

Tredennis, " I am glad to find you here. I have
been hearing some most extraordinary stories ;
perhaps you can teil me what they mean ? "

" Whom do they concem ? " asked Agnes.
" We are entertained by many stories."

"They will disturb you as much as ihey
have disturbed me," Mrs. Merriam answered.
" They have disturbed me very much. They
concem our little friend, Mrs. Amory."

" Bertha ! " exclaimed Agnes.

Her tender heart beat quietly, and a
faint flush showed itself on her cheek; she
looked up at Colonel Tredennis with quick,
questioniüg eyes. Perhaps she was not as
unprepared for the statement as she might
have been. She had seen much during the
last few weeks which had startled and alarmed
her. Mrs. Merriam looked at Tredennis also.

"You may be able to guess something of
what the rumours form themselves upon,"
she Said. " Heaven knows there has been
enough foundation for anything in that
miserable Westoria land scheme."

"You have heard something of it this
morning ? " said Tredennis.

" I have heard -nothing eise," was the
ans wer. " The Westoria land scheme has

A Social Peril. 189

come to an untimely end, with a flavour

of scandd about it which may yet terminate

in an investigation. The whole city is füll

of it, and stories of Mrs. Amory and her

husband are the entertainment oflFered you

on all sides. I say ^ Mrs. Amory and her

husband/ beeause it is Mrs. Amory who is

the favourite topic. She has been making

the most desperate eflforts to influence people ;

her parlours have been fiUed with poUticians

and lobbyists all the season ; the husband was

deeply involved in the matter; bribes have

been offered and taken ; there are endless

anecdotes of Senator Planefield and his

infatuation, and the way in which it has

been used. She would have accomplished

wonders if it had not been for Senator

Blundel, who suspected her and led her into

betraying herseif. It is Senator Blundel who

is credited with having been the means of

exploding the whole aflfair. He has been

privately investigating the matter for months,

and had an interview with Mrs. Amory the

other night, in which he assured her of the

most terrible things, and threatened her with

exposure. That is the way the stories run."

" Oh ! this is very cruel," said Agnes.

190 Throügh One Administration.

" We must do something 1 We must try !
We cannot let such things be said without
making an effort against them."

" Whatever is done must be done at once,"
replied Mrs. Merriam. " The cooclusion of
the matter is that there seems actually to be
a sort of cabal formed against her."

" You mean " began Agnes, anxiously.

"I mean/' said Mrs. Merriam, "that my
impression is that if she appears at the ball
there are those who will be so rüde to her
that she will be unable to remain."

" Aunt Mildred ! " exclaimed Agnes in
deep agitation. " Surely such a thing is
impossible."

"It is not only not impossible/' retumed
Mrs. Merriam, " but it is extremely prob-
able. I heard remarks which assured me
of that."

" She must not go ! " said Agnes. " We
must manage to keep her at home. Colonel
Tredennis "

" The remedy must go deeper than that,"
he answered. " The fact that she did not
appear would only postpone the end. The
slights she avoided one night would be stored
up for the future, we may be sure."

A Social Peril. 191

He endeavoured to speak calmly, but it
was not easy, and he knew too well that
such a change had come upon his face as the
two women could not but see. Though he
haxi feaxed this cUmax so long, though he
had even seen day by day the signs of its
approach, it feil upon him as a blow at last,
and seemed even worse than in his most
anxious hour he had thought it might be.

"She has friends/' he said; "her friends
have friends. I think there are those —
besides ourselves— who will defend her."

"They must be strong," remarked Mrs.
Merriam.

"There are some of them/' he answered,
"who are strong. I think I know a lady
whose opinion will not go for nothing, who
is generous enough to use her influence in
the right direction."

"And that direction?" said Mrs. Mer-
riam.

" If the opposing party finds itself met by
a party more powerful than itself," he said,
"its tone will change — ^and as for the story
of Senator Blundel, I think I can arrange
that he will attend to that himself"

" Mere denial would not go very far. I

192 Thbough Oxe Admeostratiox.

am afipaid/' said Mrs. MernanL "He cannot
deny it to two or three score of people/'

" He can deny it to the entire Community,"
he answered, " by showing that their intimacy
remains unbroken."

" Ajh ! " cried Agnes, " if he wonld only
go to the ball, and let people see him talking
to her as he used to — ^but I am sure he never
went to a ball in his life ! "

" My dear," said Mrs. Merriam, " that is
really a very clever idea — if he conld be
induced to go."

"He is an honest man," said Tredennis,
flushing. " And he is her feiend. I believe
that sincerely — ^and I believe he would prove
it by going anywhere to serve her."

" If that is true," said Mrs. Merriam, " a
great deal will be accomplished — ^thongh it
is a little difl&cult to figure to one's seif how
he would enjoy a ball."

" I think we shall have the pleasure of

seeing," replied the Colonel. " I myself "

He paused a moment, and then added : " I
chance to have a rather intimate acquaintance
with him — ^he has interested himself in some
work of mine lately, and has shown himself
very friendly to me. It would perhaps be

A Social Peril. 193

easier for me to speak to him than for any

other friend of Mrs. Amory's/'

" I think you would do it better than any

other friend," Mrs. Merriam said, with a

Irindly look at him.

The truth was that, siüce his first introdnc-
tion to Colonel Tredennis, Blundel had taken
care that the acquaintance should not drop.
He häd found the modest warrior at once
useful and entertaining. He had been able
to gather jfrom him information which it was
his interest to connt among his stores, and,
having obtained it, was not ungrateful, and,
indeed, was led by his appreciation of certain
good qualities he recognised in him into
something bordering on an attachment for
his new friend.

"I like that fellow," he used to say,
energetically.

And realising something of this friendUness,
and more of the honour and worth of his
acquaintance, the Colonel feit that he might
hope to reach his heart by telling his story
simply and with dignity, leaving the rest to
him. As for the lady of whom he had spoken,
he had but little doubt that that kind and
generous heart might be rea<5hed ; he had seen
VOL. m.

194 Through One Administration.

evidences of ite truth and charity too often to
distrust them. It was of course the wife of
the Secretary of State he was thinMiig of —
that good and graceful gentlewoman whose
just and clear judgment he knew he could
rely upon, and whose fidendsMp would grant
him any favour.

*'She is very generous and sympathetie,"
he Said, " and I have heard her speak most
kindly of Mrs. Amory. Her action in the
matter must have weight, and I have con-
fidence that she will show her feeling in a
manner which will make a deep impression.
She has aJways been fond of Professor
Herrick.''

"That is as clever an idea as the other,**
Said Mrs. Merriam. "She has drawn her
lines so delicately heretofore that she has an
influence even greater than was wielded by
most of those who have occupied her position.
And she is a decided and dignified person,
capable of social subtleties."

''0hl" exclaimed Mrs. Sylvestre, "it
seems very hard that it should be Bertha who
shonld need such defence."

" It is miserable/' said Mrs. Merriam,
impatiently. *'It is disgraceful when onie

A Social Peril. 195

considers who is the person to blame. It is
very delicate of us not to use names, I suppose,
Wt there has been enough delicacy — and . in-
delicacy — and I should like to nse them as
freely as other people do. I think you re-
meniber that I have not been very fond of
Mr. Richard Amory."

Wben Colonel Tredennis left them, he
tumed his steps at once toward the house of
the woman who was his friend and upon whose
assistance so much depended. To gain her
sjnnpathy seemed the first thing to be done,
and one thought repeated itself again and again
in hjB mind— " How shall I say it best ? "

But fortune favoured him and helped him
to speak as he had not anticipated that it
would.

The lady sat alone in her favourite chair in
her favourite room, when he was ushered into
her presence, as he had frequently happened
to be before somewhere about the same hour.
A book lay open upon her läp, but she was
not reading it, and he fancied had not been
doing so for ßome time. He also fancied that
when she saw him her greeting glance had a
fihade of relief in it, and her first words seemed
to certify that he was not mistaken.

2

196 Through One Administration.

" I am more than usually glad to see you,"
she Said. "I think that if you had not
appeared so opportunely, I should have
decided in about half an hour that I must
send for you."

"I am very fortunate to have come," he
answered, and he held her kind hand a
moment, and there came into his face a
look so anxious that, being in the habit of
observing him, she saw it.

" Are you very well ? " she asked, gently.
" I am afraid not. You are rather pale. Sit
down by my chair and let me look at you."

" Am I pale ? " said the Colonel. " You are
very good to nötice it, though I am not ill. I
am only — only "

She looked at him with grave interest. .

" Have you," she said, " have you heard
of the illness of some friend ? Is that it ? I
am afraid it is ! "

" Yes," he answered, ^* that is it — ^and I am
afraid you have heard of it, too."

**I am afraid I have," she retumed.
" Such things travel quickly. I have heard
something which has distressed me very
much. It is something I have heard faint
rumours of before, but now it has taken on a

A Social Peril. 197

c3efiiiite form. This morning I was out, and
^his aftemoon I have had some callers who
"^rere not averse to speaking plainly. I have
Iieard a great many things said which have
iven me pain and which embarrass me
riously. That was the reason I was wishing
"fco see you. I feit that ,you would at least
"fcell me a story without prejudice. There is
säs great deal of prejudice shown — of course.
\Ve need expect nothing eise. I am sure
I^rofessor Herrick can know nothing of
"fchis. Will you teil me what you yourself
'know ? "

"That is what I came to do," said the

Colonel, still paler, perhaps. "There is a

great deal to teil — more than the world will

ever know. It is only — to such as you that

it could'be told."

There was more emotion in his voice and
face than he had meant to reveal; perhaps
something in the kind anxiousness of his
companion's eyes moved him — he found that
he could not sit still and speak as if his
interest was only the common one of an
Outsider, so he rose and stood before her.

"I cannot even teil you how it is that I
jpiow what I do to be true," he said. " I

198 Through One Administration.

have only my word, but I hnow you will
believe me."

" You may be sure of that/' she answered.

" I am sure of it," he retumed, " or I should
not be here, for I have no other proof to oflFer.
I came to make an appeal to you in behalf of
a person who has been wronged."

** In behalf of Mrs. Amory ? " she said.

" Yes," he replied, ** though she does not
know I am here, and will never know it. It
scarcely seems my business, perhaps ; she
should have others to defend her ; but there
are no others who, having the interest of
relationship, might not be aceused of self-
interest too. There is a sHght tie of kinship
between us, but it is only a slight one, and —
we have not always been very good friends,
perhaps, though it must have been my own
fault. I think I never pleased her very well,
even when I saw her oftenest. She was
used to brighter companionship. But her
father Uked me ; we were friends, warm and
close. I have feit almost as if I was bis
son, and have tried to spare him the know-
ledge of what would have hurt him. During
the last few weeks I think he has had sus-
picions which have disturbed him, but they

A Social Pekil. 199

have not been suspicions of trouble to bis
chüd."
" I feit sure of that," the lady remarked.
"iSfee has no suspicions of the true aspect
of aflfairs," he continued, "though she has
Isitely gained knowledge of the wrong done
lier. It has bcen a great wrong. She has not
t>een spared. Her inexperience made her a
ciiild in the hands of those who used her as
"fclieir tool. She understands now that it is too
Istte — and it is very bitter to her."

"You knew her when she was a girl," bis
ciompanion said, with her kind eyes on bis sad,
Stern face.

" Tes," he answered, " when she was a girl
and bappy, and with all of life before her,
and — she did not fear it."

" I knew her, too," she replied. " She has
greatly changed since then."

"I saw that when I retumed here," he
Said. And he turned bis bead aside and
began to take up and set down a trifle on the
mantel. "At first I did not understand it,"
he added. " Now I do. She has not changed
without reason. If she has g^emed ligbt, there
are women, 1 suppose, who bide many a pain
in that way. She has loved her cbildren, and

200 Through One Administration.

made them happy — I know that, at least —
and — and she has been a kind wife and an
innocent woman. It is her friends who mnst
defend her."

" She needs their defence," said his hearer.
" I feit that when I was out this moming, and
when my callers were with me, an hour ago.'*
She held out her hand with sympathetic frank-
ness. " I am her feiend," she said, " and her
father's — and yours. I think you have some
plan — there is something you wish me to do.
Teil me what it is."

" Yes," he answered, " there is something
I wish you to do. No one eise can do it so
well. There are people who intend to testify
to their belief in the stories they have heard
by ojffering her open slights. It is likely
the attempt will be made to-morrow night at
the ball. If you testify to your disbelief and
disapproval by giving her your protection, the
populär theory will be shaken, and there will
be a reaction in* her favour."

" It is not to be denied," she said, " that it
is only women who can aid her. It is women
who aay these things, as a rule, and who can
unsay them. The actions of men in such
matters are of less weight than they should be

A Social Peml. 201

— ^tLough it is true there is one man who

migLt do Ler a service "

" You are thinking of Senator Blundel," he
Said. "I — we Lave thought of that. We
t^hink — ^hope that he will come to the ball."

^af he does, and shows himself Mendly

"ftoward her," she retumed, "nothing more

cjan be said which coidd be of much import-

^Lnce. He is the hero of the story, as I dare

asay you have heard. If he remains her friend,

^hat proves that he did not accuse her of

3f)lotting against him, and that he has no cause

f or offence. If the story of the grand scene

'between them is untrue, the foundation-stone

is taken away, and having the countenance

of a few people who show their confidence

^with taet and discretion, she is safe. I will

go to the ball, my friend, and I will use what

influence I possess to insure that she is not

badly treated."

" I knew you would be kind to her," Tre-
dennis said, with kindling eyes. " I have
Seen you kind before to those who needed
kindness, even to those who did not deserve
it — ^and she does ! "

" Yes, yes, I am sure she does ! " she
onswered. " Poor child ! Poor child ! "

202 Through One Administration.

And she gave him her hand again, and, as
Le wrung it in Lis, her eyes were fuller of
sympathy than ever.

He reached Senator BlundeFs rooms an
honr later, and found him in the midßt of
his papers and pigeon-holes — letters and
Pamphlets to right of him, to left of him,
before and behind him.

" Well," he Said, by way of greeting,
"our Westoria friends are out of humonr
this morning."

" So I have heard," Tredennis answered.

" And they may well be — ^they may well
be," he said, nodding sharply. " And there
are some fine stories told, of course."

" I have come to teil you one myself, sir,"
said Tredennis.

" What I cried Blundel turning on his chair,
" you have a story ? "

" Yes," returned the Colonel, " not a
pleasant one, and as it concems you, I will
waste as few words as possible."

He wasted no words at all. The story was
a brief one, but as forcible as simple wordd
could make it. There was no effort to give
it eflFectiveness, and yet there were touches

A Social Peril. 203

here and there which appealed to the man
who heard it, as he had been rarely appealed
to before. They brought before him things
wbich had found a lodging in eorners of
hiß practieal political mind, and had haunted
him rather pathetically since the night he
had shmgged himself into bis overcoat, and
left the slight, desolate-looking figure behind
him. He had enjoyed bis friendship too
much not to regret it now that he feit it
was a thing of the past ; he had feit the
loss more than once of the new element
it had introduced into bis life, and had cast
about in bis mind in vain for a place where
he could spend a spare bour or so as
pleasantly as he had often spent such hours
in a bright parlour he knew of. Before
Tredennis had half finished bis relation he was
moving restlessly in bis chair, and uttering
occasional gruff ejaculations, and wben it
came to an end he sprang up looking not a
trifle heated.

" That's it, is it ? " he exclaimed. " They
have been inventing something new about
her, have they, and dragged me into it into
the bargain ? And they are making up plots
against her, poor little woman, as if she

204 TflROUGH One Administration.

hadn't been treated badly enough. A lot
of gossips, Fll wager ! "

"Some of them are good enough," said
the Colonel. "They only xETean to signify
their disapproval of what they would have
the right to condemn, if it were a truth
instead of a lie."

" Well, they shall not do it at my expense,
that's all," was the answer. " It is a lie from
beginning to end, and I will do something
tbward proving it to them. I don't dis-
approve of her, they shall see that! She's
a genuine good little thing ! She's a lady !
Any fool can see that ! She won 7ae over, by
George, when everything was against her!
And she aceused nobody when she might have
said some pretty hard true things, and nine
women out of ten would have iraised the very
deuce. She's got courage, and — ^yes, and
dignity, and a spirit of her own that has
helped her to bear many a bitter thing
without losing her hold on herseif, Fd be
willing to swear. Look here ! " he added,
turning suddenly and facing Tredennis.
" How much do you know of her troubles ?
Something, I know, or you wouldn't be
here ? "

A Social Peril. 205

"Yes," answered the Colonel. "I know
something."

"Well," he continued, in an outburst of
feeling, " I don't ask how much. It's enough,
I dare say, to make it safe for me to speak
my mind — ^I mean safe for her, not for myself.
There's a fellow within a hundred miles of
here I should like to thrash within an inch
of his life, and an elegant, charming, amiable
fellow he is too, who, possibly, persuaded
himself that he was doing her very little
injury."

"The injury has been done nevertheless,"
Said Tredennis gravely. " And it is her
friends who must right it."

" I'm willing to do my share," said Blundel.
"And let that fellow keep out of my way.
As to this ball — I never went to a ball in
my life, but I will appear at this one, and
show my colours. Wäit a minute 1 " As if
an idea had suddenly Struck him. " Go to
the ball ? — I'U take her there myself."

The spirit of combat was aroused within
him ; the idea presented itself to him with
such force, that he quite enjoyed it. Here
arraigned on one side were these society
scandalmongers and fine ladies ; here on the

206 Throügh One Administration.

other was himself, Samuel Blundel, rougk
and blunt, but determined enough to scatter
them and tlieir Kes to the four winds. He
rather revelied in the thought of the struggle,
if struggle there was to be. He had taken
active part in many a row in the House in
which the odds had been against him, and
where his obstinate strength had outlived the
subtle readiness of a dozen apparently better
equipped men. And his heart was in this
deed of valour too ; it glowed within him as
he thought how much really depended upon
him. Now, this pretty, bright creature must
turn to him for protection and support. He
almost feit as if he held her gloved hand
resting upon hiB burly arm already with a
clinging touch.

" ril take her myself," he repeated. " Fll
go and see her myself, and explain the
necessity of it— if she does not know all."

" She does not know all yet," said
Tredennis, " and I think she was scarcely
inclined to go to the ball; but I am sure
it will be better that she should go."

"She will go," said Blundel, abruptly.
" rU make her. She knows me. She will go
if I teU her she must. That is what comes of

A Social Peml. 207

being an old fellow, you see, and not a lady's

man."

He had not any doubt of bis success with
ber, and, to teil tbe truth, neitber bad Colonel
Tredennis. He saw tbat bis blunt bonesty
and imceremonious, balf-patemal domineering
would prove to ber tbat be was in tbe rigbt;
even if sbe were at first reluctant ; and tbis
being settled and tbe matter left in BlundeFs
bands, tbe Colonel went away. Only before
going be said a few words, ratber awkwardly :

" Tbere would be notbing to be gained by
mentioning my name," be said. " It is mere
accident tbat — tbat I cbance to know wbat I
bave spoken of. Sbe does not know tbat I
know it. I sbould prefer tbat sbe sbould
not."

" Wbat 1 " said Blundel. " Sbe is not to
know bow you bave been standing by ber ? "

" Sbe knows tbat I would stand by ber if
sbe needed me. Sbe does not need me ; sbe
needs you. I bave notbing to do witb tbe
matter. I don't wisb to be mentioned."

Wben be was gone Blundel rubbed bis
bair backward and tben forward by way of
variety.

208 TflROüGH One Administeation.

** Queer fellow ! " he said, meditatively.
" Not quite sure IVe exactly got at him yet.
Brave as a lion, and shy as a boy. Absolutely
afraid of women."

CHAPTER X.

ÜNE^PECTED AID.

In less than an hour his card was brought
to Bertha as she sat with her children. She
read it with a beating heart, and, having done
so, put down Meg and her picture-book.

" I will go down at once," she said to the
servant.

In two minutes she was standing in the
middle of the parlour, and her guest was
holding her band in his, and looking at her
earnestly and curiously.

"You didn't expect to see me here, did
you ? " he said.

"No," she answered; "but you are kind
to come."

"I didn't expect to be here myself," he
said. " Where is your husband ? Somebody
told me he had gone away."

VOL. III. p

210 Thkough One Administration.

" He is in New York/' she replied.

He gave her one of his shaxp glances and
drew her toward a chair.

" Sit down by me," he seid. " You are in
no condition to be kept standing. I want to
taJk to you. You mustn't look like that," he
Said. " It wont do. You are wom out, but
you mustn't give up. I have come to order
you to do something."

"I will do anything yöu teil me," she
answered.

"YouwiU? Well, that's good ! I thought
you would, too. I want you to take me to
this ball that is to be given to-morrow night."

She started in amazement.

'' To the ball I " she exclaimed.

" Surprises you, doesn't it ? I supposed it
would ; it surprises me a little, but I want to
go nevertheless, and I have a reason."

" I am sure it is a good one," she said.

" It is," he answered. " None but the best
would take me there. I never went to a ball
in my life. You are the reason. I am going
to take care of you"

A faint, sad smile touched her lips.

" Some one has said something more
against me," she said, ** and you w^ant to

ÜNEXPBCTED AlD. 211

Sefend me. Don't take the trouble. It is not
Pirorth while."

** The place is fall of lies about you," he
fcnswered, suddenly and fiercely. *' And I am
joing to defend you, No one eise can. They
ire lies that concem me as well as you."

** Will you teil me what they are ? " she
^ked.

He saw there was no room for hesitation,
.nd told her what the facts were. As he
poke he feit that they did not improve in
lie relation, and he saw the blood rise to her
tlieeks, and a light grow in her eyes. When
le had finished the light was a brilliant spaxk
►f fire.

^at is a eharming story," she said.

** We will show them what sort of a story
it is>" he answered, *^ to-morrow night ! "

" You are very good to me," she said.

Suddenly she put her band to her side,

** Ah { " she exclaimed, it seems very
Strange that they should be saying these
things of — ^Bertha Amory ! "

She looked at him with a hopeless appeal
in her eyes,

" Do they all believe them ? " she said.
" Ah, how can they ? They know I was not

p 2

ii

212 Through One Admdostratiox.

— like that I I have not done anything ! I
have been unliappy, but — ^but I ^*

Slie stopped a moment — or was stopped
by her breaking voice.

" This has been too mach for you," he saiA
You are m, chüd r'

I have been ill for some time," she
answered. "And the last few days have
been very hard."

She made an eflFort to recover herseif.

** I will go to the ball/' she said, " if you
think it best."

" It is best," he replied. " And you need
not be afraid ^

" I am not afraid," she interposed quickly,
and the spark of fire showed itself in her
eyes again. "I might allow myself to be
beaten, if it were not for my children ; but,
as it ia, you will see that I will not be beaten.
I will be well for to-morrow night at least.
I will not look like a victim. They will see
that 1 am not afraid."

"It is they who will be beaten," said
Blundel, " if anything depends on me ! C!on-
found it 1 I shaU like to do it."

CHAPTER XL

blündel's efforts.

He went home quite eager for tlie fray,
and his eagemess was not allowed to flag.
The favourite story came to his ears again and
again. Men met him in the streets, and
stopped to speak of it ; others dropped into
his rooms to hear the truth from himself,
when he went to his hotel to dine ; talkers
Standing in groups in the lobbies tumed to
look at him, and when he had passed them
retnmed to their conversation with renewed
interest. To the first man who referred to
the matter he listened until he had said his
say. Then he answered him.

" You want to hear the truth about that/'
he Said, " don't you ? ''

" That of course/' was the reply.

214 Through One Administration.

" And you want to be able to teil the truth
about it when you are asked questions."

" Most certainly."

" Well, then, the truth is that there isn't a
Word of truth in it from beginning to end ;
and if you want to teil the truth, say it's a lie,
and add that I said so, and I am prepared to
say so to every man who wants to interview
me ; and what is more, every man who teils
another that it is a lie does me a favour that
gives him a claim on me.*'

He repeated the same thing in effeet eaeh
time an opportunity presQuted itself, and as
these opportunities were frequent and eaeh
time he gained something of heat and lost
something [of temper and patience, he was
somewhat tired and by no means in the best
of humours when he sat down to his dinner,
in the big, glaring, crowded hotel dining-room^
amid the rattle of knives, forks, and crockery,
the rushing to and fro of excited waiters, and
the incoming and outgoing of hungry people.
His calmness was not added to by observing
that the diners at the tables near him dis-
covered him as with one aceord almost as soon
as he entered, and cast glances of interest at
him between the courses.

Blundel^s Efforts. 215

"Perfectly dreadful scene, they say," he
lieard one lady remark, with an unconscious
candour bom of her confidence that the clatter
of dishes would drown all sound. " Went
down on her knees to him and wrung her
hands, imploring him to have mercy on her.
Husband disappeared next day. Quite society
people too. She has been a great deal
admired,"

What further particulars the Speaker might
have entered into there is no knowing, as she
was a communicative person and plainly
enjoyed hw subjeet ; but just at this juneture
the lady to whom she was confiding her
knowledge of the topics of the hour uttered
an uneasy exclamation*

" Gracious 1 Maria ! " she said. " He has
heard you l I am sure he has ! He has
tumed qnite red — redder than he was — and
he is looking at us ! Oh^ Maria ! " in
accents sepulchral with fright, " he is getting
up I He is Coming to speak to us ! Oh 1 —
Mari 1 "

He was upon them at that very moment.
He was accustomed to public speaking, and
his experience led him to the point at once.
He held his newspaper half folded in his

216 Throügh One Administbation.

hand, and, as had been said, he was a trifle
redder than usual ; but bis manner waß too
direct to be entirely devoid of dignity.

'*I beg your pardon," he said, "but my
name is Blundel."

The most hopelessly terrified of the ladies
found herseif saying that he " was very kiiid,"
and the one who had told the story gasped
faintly, but with an evident desire to,,pro-
pitiate, that she " had heard so."

" I take the liberty of mentioning it," he
added, " because I have been sitting quite
near to you and chaneed to overhear what
you were saying, and as you are evidently
labouring under an Impression I am interested
in correcting, I feit obliged to intrude on
you with a view to correcting it. I have been
denying that story all day. It isn't true.
Not a Word of it. I never said an unkind
Word to the lady you mention, and I never
had an unkind thought of her. No one has
any right to spea^ iU of her. I am her friend.
You will excuse my interrupting you. Here
is my Card." And he laid the card on the
table, made a bow not so remarkable for
grace, perhaps, as for perfect respectfulness,
and marched back to his table.

Blundel's Effobts. 217

There were fe w people in the room who
did not tum to look at him as he sat down
again, and nine out of ten began to indulge
in highly-coloured speculations as to why he
had addressed the women and who they were.
There had never been a more populär scandal
than the Westoria land scheme ; the magni-
tude of it, the element of romance connecting
itself with it, the social position of the
principal schemers, all endeared it to the public
heart. Blundel himself had become a hero,
and had the rumours regarding his irreproach-
able and dramatic conduct only been rife at
a time of election, they would have assured
him an overwhelming majority. Perhaps as
he approached the strangers' table there had
been a fond, flickering hope cherished that
these two apparently harmless women were
lobbyists themselves, and that their disguise
was to be rent from them and their iniquities
to be proclaimed upon the spot. But the
brief episode ended with apparent tameness
and the general temperature was much lowered,
the two ladies sinking greatly in public
opinion, and the interest in Blundel himself
flagging a little. There was one person,
however, who did not lose interest in him.

218 Thsough Oxe AmnxmTRATios.

This was a Kttle, c^^t, biid-fike womaii who
sat at some distance from Tifm^ at a small
table alone. She had seen liis ereiy move.
ment since bis entrance, and ber biigbt, dark
eyes followed bim witb an ahnost wistfid
interest. It was Miss Jessnp; and Miss
Jessup was fall to tbe brim and pressed down
and mnning over witb anecdotes of tbe great
scandal, and ber delicate little frame ahnost
trembled witb anxious exdtement as sbe
gazed upon bim and tbougbt of wbat migbt
be done in an interview.

He bad nearly finisbed bis dinner before
be caught sight of ber, but as be was taking
bis coffee he glanced down tbe room, saw and
recognised her.

" The very woman ! " be exclaimed under
bis breath. " Why didn't I think of that
before ? " And in five minutes Miss Jessup's
beart was thrilled within her, for be bad
approached her, greeted her, and taken tbe
seat she offered bim.

" I have come," he said, " to ask a favour
of you."

" Of me 1 " said Miss Jessup. " That does
not sound exactly natural. I have generally
asked favours of you. I have just been

Blundel's Efforts. 219

looking at you and making up my mind to
afik one."

" Wanted to interview me ? " he asked.
" Didn't you ? "

She nodded her head, and her bright eyes
brightened.

" Well," sturdily, " I want you to inter-
view me. Go ahead and do it."

" You want to be interviewed ! " she
exclaimed, positively radiant with innocent
joy. "No! Keally?"

" I am here for that purpose," he answered.

She left her seat instantly.

" Come into the parlour," she said. " It is
quiet there at this time. We can sit where
we shaU not be disturbed at all."

They went into the parlour and found at
the far end of it the quiet corner they needed,
and two chairs. Miss Jessup took one and
Blundel the other, which enabled him to
present his broad back to all who entered.
Almost before he was seated Miss Jessup had
produced her neat note-book and a pencil.

"Now," she said, "I am ready for any-
thing ; but I must say I don't see how I am
favouring yot^."

" You are going to favour me by saving me

220 Throügh One Administration.

the trouble of contradicting a certain story
every half-hour," he said.

" Ah ! " ejaculated Miss Jessup, her coun-
tenance faUing a little ; " it is not true ? "

" Not a Word of it."

Humane little creature as she was, as she
glanced down at her note-book, Miss Jessup
feit that some one had been a trifle deiörauded.

" And there was no scene ? "

" No."

" And you did not threaten to expose her ? ''

" No."
. " And you wish me to teil people that ? "

" Yes, as pointedly as possible, in as few
words as possible, and without mentioning
names if possible."

" Oh, it would not be necessary to mention
names ; every body would uuderstand the
slightest reference."

*'Well, when you have done that," said
Blundel, " you have granted me my favour."

" And you want it to be brief ?" said Miss
Jessup.

"See here," said Blundel; "you are a
woman. I want you to speak the truth for
another woman as plainly, and — as delicately
as a woman can. A man would say too

Blündel's Efforts. 221

much or too little — that is why I come to
you."

She touched her book with her pencil, and
evidently warmed at once.

" I always liked her," she said, with genuine
good feeling, « mi I could not help hoping
that the story was not tnie, after all. As it
was public property, it was my business to
find out all about it if I could ; but I couldn't
help being sorry. I believe I can say the
right thing, and I will do my best. At any
rate, it will be altogether different from the
other versions."

" There won't be any other versions if I can
prevent it," returned Blundel. " I shall have
some intersdews with newspaper men to-night,
which will accomplish that end, I hope."

" Ah ! " exclaimed Miss Jessup, " then
mine will be the only statement."

" I hope so," he answered. " It will if I
have any influence."

"Oh, then," she said, "you have done me
a favour, after all."

" It wont balance the favour you will have
done me," he replied, " if you do your best
in this matter. You see, I know what your
best is, and I depend on it."

222 Throügh One Administration.

" Well,^' she said, " it is very kind of you
to say so, and I will try to prove myself worth
depending on, but — " And she scribbled a
little in her note-book. " I d6n*t mind telling
you that the reason that is strongest in my
mind is quite an unprofessional one. It is the
one you spoke of just now. It is because I
am a woman, too."

" Then she is safe," he retumed. " Nothing
could make her safer. And I am gratefui to
you beforehand, and I hope you will let me
say so/'

And they shook hands and parted the best
of friends, notwithstanding that the interview
had dwindled down into proportions quite
likely to be regarded by the public as entirely
insignificant.

CHAPTER XII.

THE BALL, AND AFTEE IT.

It had certainlj been expected by the
public that the moming papers would contain
soine interesting reading matter, and in some
respects these expectations were realized. The
ignominious failure of the Westoria land scheme
was discussed with freedom and vigour, Kght
being cast upon it from all sides, but upon the
subjeet which had promised most there was a
marked silence. Only in one paper there
appeared a paragraph — scarcely more — written
with much cleamess and with a combined
reserve and directness which could not fail to
carry weight. It was very well done, and
Said so much in little and with such unmis-
takable faith in its own Statements and such
suggestions of a foundation for that faith, that
it was something of a shock to those wbo had

224 Throügh One Administration.

delighted in the xnost elaborate omamentatioii::«^^^^^
of the original story. In effect it was a deniaC-^-*^
not only of the ornamentation, but of the^-^J^
Story itself, and left the liberal commentator^c^^^ ^
not a faet to stand upon, so that he became^ ^^^
temporarily the prey of discouragement and -K> ^
Spiritual gloom, which was not a little added
to by the events of the day.

There was, however, no sense of discour-
agement in the mind of Senator Blundel as
he attired himself for the firay when night
arrived. His mood was a fine combination of
aggressiveness, generous kindliness, hot tem-
per, and chivalric good feeling. He thought
all day of the prospeet before him, and in
the aftemoon went to the length of caUing at
a florist's and ordering a bouquet to be sent
to Mrs. Amory, choosing it himself and feeling
some pride in the good taste of his selection.
He was so eager, indeed, that the day seemed
quite long to him, and he dressed so early
after dinner that he had two or three hours
to wait before his carriage arrived.

But it did arrive at last, and he went down
to it, drawing on with some diflSculty an ex-
ceedingly tight pair of gloves, the obduracy
of whose objections to being buttoned gave

The Ball, and After It. 225

iim something to combat with and suited bis
Aame of mind to a nicety.

He was not called upon to wait very long
^ter bis eritrance into tbe parlour. A few
zmoments after bis arrival Bertba came down.
Sbe was superbly dressed in wbite, sbe carried
lis roses and violets, and tbere bumed upon
ler cbeeks a colour at ance so delicate and
T)rilliant tbat be was surprised by it. He bad,
indeed, ratber expected to see ber paler.

" üpon my soul," be said, " you don't look
xnueb frigbtened 1 "

" I am not frigbtened at all," sbe answered.

" Tbat is a good tbing/' be returned. " We
^ball get on all tbe better for it. I never
^aw you witb a brigbter colour."

Sbe toucbed ber cbeek witb ber gloved
finger.

** It is not rouge," sbe said. '* I bave been
thinking of otber parties I bave attended —
^nd of bow tbese ladies will look at me to-
Xiigbt — ^and of wbat tbey possibly said of me
yesterday — and it bas been good for me."

** It was not so good for tbem, bowever,"
te suggested, regarding ber witb new interest.
Her spirit pleased bim ; be liked it tbat sbe
^as not ready to allow berself to be beaten

VOL. III. . Q

226 Thkoügh One Administration.

down, that she held her head erect and coir^ ^ >

fronted her enemies wilh resolute eyes; h

had a suspicion that there were women enougli'^^ ^

who would have been timorous and pathetic. *^*

" I could not hurt them/' she replied. " It*^ !*
would matter very little what I thought or saidJ^ ^
of them — it is only they who can härm me."

" They shall none of them harm you," he ^ ^^
Said, stoutly. " I will see to that — ^but I'm
glad you are looking your best."

But she could not help seeing that he was
a trifle anxious about her. His concem
manifested itself in occasional touches of ^^
half-paternal kindliness which were not lost ^
upon her. He assisted her to put on her '-^^
wrap, asked her if it was warm enough, *i
ordered her to draw it closely about her, and
tucked her under his arm as he led her out "^

to the carriage with an air of determined
protection not to be mistaken.

Perhaps his own views as to what form
of oppression and Opposition they were to
eucounter were rather vague. He was suffir
ciently accustomed to the Opposition of men,
but not to that of women; but, whatever
aspect it assumed upon this occasion, he was
valiantly determined not to be moved by it

The Ball, and After It. 227

" I can't dance with you," he said, " that's
true — I wish I could — but I will see that
you have plenty of partners."

" I don't think the difl&culty will be in the
Partners/' Bertha replied, with a faint smile.
'' The men will not be unkind to me, you
will see."

"They won't believe it, eh?" said
Blundel.

Her eyes met his, and the faint smile had a
touch of bitterness.

" Some of them will not believe it," she
answered ; '^ and some will not care."

There was not the slightest shade of any
distrust of herself or her surroundings, either
in her face or manner, when, on reaching
their destination, she made her way into the
cloak-room. The place was already crowded
— so crowded that a ne w-comer was scarcely
noticeable. But, though she seemed to see
nothing, glancing to neither right nor left, and
occupying herself with the removal of her
wraps, and with a few calm last touches
bestowed upon her toilet before a mirror,
scarcely a trifle escaped her. She heard
greetings, laughter, gay comments on the
brilliancy and promise of the ball ; she knew

Q 2

228 Through One Administration.

where stood a woman who would be likely t
appear as an enemy, where stood another wh
might be neutral, and another who it was
even possible might be a friend. But shfr
meant to run no risks, and her long trainin
in self-control stood her in good stead ; ther^
was neither consciousness nor too much un-
eonciousness in her face ; when the woman:-:^**^
whom she had fancied might lean toward^^^
friendliness saw and bowed to her, she^^ ^^
returned the greeting with her pretty, in — '^^'
scrutable smile, the entire composure of which-^^^
so impressed the matron who was disposed ^^^^
to neutrality, that she bowed also, and so did
some one near her. But there were others
who did not bow, and there were those who,
discovering the familiär, graceful figure, drew
tügether in groups, and made an amiable
comment or so. But she did not seem to see
them. When, taking up her flowers and her
white ostrich-feather fan, she passed down the
little lane, they expressed their disapproval
by making way for her as she tumed towards
the door. She was looking at two ladies who
were entering, and, general attention being
directed towards them, they were discovered
to be Mrs. Sylvestre and Mrs. Merriam.

The Ball, and After It. 229

"Now/' it was avsked, "wliat will they
do?".

What they did was very simple in itself,
but very remarkable in the eyes of the
lookers-on. They paused and spoke to the
delinquent in quite their usual manner.

" We would ask you to wait for us/' Mrs.
Merriam was heard to say finally, " but
there are so many people here to be attended
to, and we saw Senator Blundel waiting for
you at the door. May I teil you how pretty
your dress is, and how brilliant you are
looking ? "

" Senator Blundel I " was repeated by the
nearest groups. ** It could not be Senator
Blundel who is with her."

But those who were near enough to the
door were subjected to the mental shoek of
seeing that it was Senator Blundel himself.
He appeared in festal array, rubicund, and
obstinately elate, and, stepping forward, took
his charge's band, and drew it within his
portly arm.

" W hat 1 " he said, " you are not pale yet
— and yet there were plenty of them in there.
What did they do ? "

** Three of them were good enough to bow

230 Throügh One Administration,

to me," she answered, "and the rest dre^*^*^^^
away and discussed me in iindertones. Ttl 3J-J^
general Impression was, I think, that I w&^^^^^^'
impudent. I did not fieel impudent, and -^

don't think I looked so."

"Poor little woman!" he said. "Pooo^=>^<
little woman ! "

" No ! no ! " she exclaimed, looking straigh' id-^'^
before her, with dangerously bright eyes
" don't say that to me. Don't pity me, pleas
— just yet — it isn*t good for me. I need
I need "

There was a second or so of dead sileiice. -
She did not teil him what she needed.

When they entered the ball-room a waltz •
was being played, and the floor was thronged
with dancers ; the ladies who formed the
committee of reception stood near the door ;
a party of guests had just received the usual
greetings and retired. The commandress-in-
chief tumed to meet the new-comers. She
was a stately and severe dowager, with no
intention of flinching from her duty ; but her
sudden recognition of the approaching sena-
torial figure was productive of a bewüderment
almost too great for her experience to cope
with. She looked, caught her breath, lost it

The Baxl, and Aftek It. 231

and her composure at one and the same time,
cast a despairing glance at her aides, and feil
a victim to circumstances. Here was the
subject under ban calmly making the most
graceftd and self-possessed obeisance before
her — and her escort was the man of whom
it had been said that a few days ago he
had exposed her infamous plotting. This was
more than even the most experienced matron
could be prepared for. It must be admitted
that her presence of mind deserted her, and
that her greetings were not marked by the
ready tact which usually characterised them.

"My first ball, madam," remarked the
Senator, scenting difficulty in the breeze,
and confronting it boldly. "But for my
friend, Mrs. Amory, I am afraid I should not
be here. I begin to feel indebted to her
already."

" It promises very well," said Bertha. " I
never saw the room gayer. How pretty the
decorations are."

They passed on to make room for others,
leaving the estimable ladies behind them pale
' with excitement, and more demoralised than
they wonld have been willing to admit.

"What does it mean?" they asked one

232 Through One Administration.

another. "They appear to be the best
friends ! What are we to understand ? "

There was one kindly matron at the en
of the line who looked after the pair with a
expression of sympathy which was rather a
variance with the severity of the rdle she
been called upon to enact.

" It appears," she said, " as if the whole
story might be a fabrication, and the Senator
determined to prove it so. I hope with all
my heart he will."

By the time they reached their seats the
news of their arrival had made the circle of
their room. Bertha herseif, while she had
listened with a smile to her escort's remarks,
had Seen amazement and recognition flash
out upon a score of faces ; but she had
preserved her smile intact, and still wore it
when she took her chair. She spoke to Blundel,
waving her fan with a soft, even motion.

" We have run the gauntlet/' she said,
** and we have chosen a good position.
Almost everybody in the room has seen us
— almost every one in the room is looking
at US."

" Let them look ! " he answered. " I have
no objection to it."

The Ball, and After It. Ö33

" Ah, they will look ! " she returned.
"And we came to be — to be looked at. And
it is very good of you to liave no objections.
Do I seem perfectly at ease ? I hope so —
though I am entirely well aware that at least
a hundred people are discussing me. Is
the expression of my eyes good — careless
enough ? "

" Yes, child, yes," he answered, a little
uneasily. There was an undertone in her
voiee which troubied him, much as he admired
her spirit and self-control.

" Thank you," she said. ** Here is a bold
man coming to ask me to dance. I told
you the men would not be afraid of me. I
think if you approve of it, I will dance
with him."

" Go and dance," he answered.

When her partner bore her away, he took
Charge of her flowers and wrap in the most
valiant manner, and carried them with him
when he went to pay his respects to the
matrons of his acquaintance who sat against
the wall discussing with each other the
most exciting topic of the hour ; and who,
when he addressed them, questioned him as
closely as good-breeding would permit, upon

234 Through One Administeation.

all subjects likely to cast light upon thL — ^
topic.

" Never was at a ball in my life before," h^
admitted. " Asked Mrs. Amory to bring me. ^^ -^^*
Wanted to see how I should like it."

" With Mrs. Amory ? " remarked matronx:^ ^^
No. L "She is dancing, I believe."

'* Yes," he said, good-naturedly. '' She willlXüi
be dancing all night, I suppose, and I shall be ^^ ^^
carrying her flowers ; but I don't mind it — in -C^^^
faet, I rather like it. I dare say there are two ^^J^
or three young fellows who would be glad
enough to be in my place."

" I have no doubt," was the reply. " She
has been very populär — and very gay."

" She is very populär with me," said the
Senator, " though I am an old fogey, and
don't count. We are great friends, and I
am very proud to be her escort to-night. I
feel I am making my d&[)ut under favourable

circurastances."

There could be no doubt of his sentiments
after that. He was her friend. He admired
her. He even made a point of saying so.
What became of the story of the scandal ?
It seemed to have ended in nothing and
worse than nothing; there was something a

The Ball, and After It. 235

little ridiciiloiis about such a tarne termination
to such an excitement. One or two of the
ladies who had found it most absorbing looked
ainilessly into space, and an embarrassed
silence feil upon them.

Bertha ended her dance and returned to
her seat. Her colour was even brighter than
before, and her smile was more brilliant. For
a few moments a little group surrounded her,
and her programme was half füll. Blundel
came back to his post like a sentinel. If she
had been looked at before, she was regarded
now with a double eagerness. Those who
were not dancing watched her every move-
ment; even those who danced asked each
other questions. The group about her chair
was added to and became gayer, but there
were no women numbered in the circle. The
general wonder was as to what would be
done in the end. So far, round dances only
had been danced. The next dance was a
quadrille, The music Struck up, and the
dancers began to take their places. As they
did so a party entered the room and made its
way towards the end where the group stood
about the chair. Bertha did not see it ; she
was just rising to take her Station in the set

236 Through One Administration.

nearest to her. The matron of the party,
who was a figure so familiär in social circles
as to be recognised at once by all who saw
her, was accompanied by her daughter and
an escort. It was the wife of the Secretary
of State, and her cavalier was Colonel
Tredennis.

** There is Mrs. Amory," she said to him as
they approached. " She is taking her place in
the quadrille. One moment, if you please."

Experience had taught her all that might
be feared, and a quick eye showed her that
something was wrong. Bertha advanced to
her place, laughing a little at some jest of her
partner s. She had not seen who the däncers
were. The jest and the laugh ended, and she
looked up at her ms-ä-vis. The lady at his
side was not smiling ; she was gazing steadily
at Bertha herseif. It seemed as if she had
been waiting to catch her eye. It was the
** great lady," and, having carried the figura-
tive pebble until this fitting moment, she
threw it. She spoke two or three words to her
partner, took his arm, tumed her back,
and walked away.

Bertha turned rather pale. She feit the
blood ebb out of her face. There was no

The Ball, and After It. 237

mistakiiig the significance of the action, and
it had not escaped an eye. This was more
than she had thought of. She made a move-
ment, with what intention she herseif was
too much shaken to know, and, in making it,
her eyes feil upon a face whose expression
brought to her an actual shock of relief. It
was the face of the kind and generous
gentlewoman who had just entered, and who
at this moment, spoke to her daughter.

" My dear,'' she said, ** I think you promised
Colonel Tredennis the first quadrille. Go
and take that vacant place, and when you
speak to Mrs. Amory ask her to come and
talk to me a little as soon as the dance is
over.'*

There was a tone of gentle decision in her
voice and a light in her eye which were not
lost upon the by-standers. She gave Bertha
a bow and smile and sat down. The most
fastidious woman in Washington — the woman
who drew her lines so (Jelicately that she had
even been called almost too rigorous, the
woman .whose well-known good taste and
good feeling had given her a power mere
social Position was powerless to bestow — had
taken the subject of the hour's scandal under

238 Thkoügh One Administration.

her protection, and plainly believed nothing
to her discredit.

In five minutes the whole room was aware
of it. She had greeted Mrs. Amory cordially,
she had openly checkmated an antagonist,
she had sent her own daughter to fill the place
left vacant in the dance.

" She would not have done that if she had
not had the best of reasons," it was said.

"And Senator Blundel would scarcely be
here if the story had been true."

" He has told several of his friends that he
is here to prove that it is not true I "

" He denied it again and again yesterday."

*' It was denied in one of the morning
papers, and they say he kept it out of the
rest because he was determined she should
not be more publicly discussed."

*' She is not one of the women who have
been in the habit of giving rise to discussion."

" She is a pretty, feminine-looking little
creature."

" Poor girl ! It must have been bitter
enough for her."

"Rather fine of old Blundel to stand by
her in this way."

** He would not do it if there was not

The Ball, and After It. 239

something rather fine in her. He is not a
ladies' man, old Sam Blundel. Look at him I
How he looms up behind his bouquet 1 "

The tide of public opinion had taken a
turn. Before the dance had ended two or
tliree practical matrons who were intimately
known to Colonel Tredennis's friendly sup-
porter had made their way to her and asked
her opinion and intentions frankly, and had
reeeived information calculated to set every
doubt at rest.

"It is scarcely necessary for me to speak
of my opinion of the matter," the lady said>
"when we have the evidenee of Senator
BlundeFs presence here with Mrs. Amory
to-night. I should feel myself unpardonably
in the wrong if I did not take the most open
measures in the defence of the daughter of my
old friend, who has been treated most unjustly.
And I cannot help hoping that she will have
other def enders than myself

Several of the matrons so addressed were
seated within speaking ränge when Bertha
came to her friend at the close of the dance,
and she recognised at once on approaching
them that she need fear them no longer. But
she could not say much in response to their

240 Throügh One Administration.

greetings ; she answered them briefly, bowed
slightly, and aat down in the chair near the
woman who had protected her. She could
even say but little to her ; the colour had died
out of her face at last; the strain she had
borne so long had reached its highest tension
to-night, and the shock of the moment, re-
ceived through an envious woman's trivial
spite, slight as it might have been in itself,
represented too much to her. As he had
passed her in the dance and touched her
band, Tredennis had feit it as cold as ice,
and the look of her quiet, white face had been
almost more than he could bear to see.

*' Bertha," he had said to her once, " for
God's sake, take courage I "

But she had not answered him. A few
months ago she would have given him a light,
flippant reply if her very soul had been wrung
within her, but now she was past that. As
she sat by her friend, her band shook as she
held her fan.

" You were very kind to me just now/' she
said, in a low voice. " I cannot express my
thanks as I wish."

" My dear," was the repiy, " do not speak
of it. I came to take care of you. I think

The Ball, and After It. 241

you wiU have no more trouble. But I . am

a&aid this has been too much for you. You

are shivering a little/'
"I am cold," Bertha answered. "I — feel

as if — something stränge had happened to me.

It was not so before. I seem — ^to have lost

courage."
**But you must not lose courage yet," she

Said, with a manner at once soft and firm. " A

^eat many people are looking at you. They

inll be very curious to know how you feel.

It is best that you should not let them see."
She spoke rather rapidly, but in a low voice.

No one near could hear. She was smiling as
if the subjeet of the conversation was the
least important in the world.

" Listen to me," he said, in the same
manner, "and try to look as if we were
speaking of ordinary topics. I dare say you
feel as if you would prefer to go away, but
I think you must remain. Everybody here
XQUSt understand that you have friends who
entirely disbelieve all that has been said
against you, and also that. they wish to make
their confidence in you public. I should
advise you to appear to enjoy yourself mode-
xately well. I think I wish you to dance
VOL. in. R

242 Through One Administration.

several times again. I think there will be
no difficulty in arranging the next square
dance. When the presidential party arrives,
the President will, I have no doubt, be pleased
to talk to you a little. It would be republiean
to say that it is absurd to consider that such
a thing can be of consequence ; but there are
people with whom it will have weight. As
soon as possible, I shall send you down to
the supper-room with Senator Blundel. A
glass of wine will do you good. Here is
Senator Blundel now. Do you think you can
talk to him in your usual manner ? "

'' I will try," Said Bertha. " And if I do
not, I think he will understand/'

He did understand. The little incident had
been no more lost upon him than upon others.
He was glowing with repressed wrath, and
sympathy, and the desire to do something
which should express his feeling. He saw at
once the change which had come upon her,
and realised to the füll all that it denoted.
When he bore her off to the supper-room, he
fairly bristled with defiance of the lookers-on
who made way for them.

" Confound the woman ! " he said. " If it
had only been a man I "

The Ball, and After It 243

He found her the most desirable corner in
the supper-room, and devoted himself to her
Service with an assiduity which touched her
to the heart.

"You have lost your colour," he said.
" That won't do. We must bring it back/'

" I am afraid it will not come back," she
answered.

And it did not, even though the tide had
tumed, and that it had done so became more
manifest every moment. They were joined
shortly by Colonel Tredennis and his party,
and by Mrs. Merriam and hers. It was piain
that Mrs. Amory was to be alone no more ;
people who had been unconscious of her exist-
ence in the baJl-room, suddenly recognised
it as she sat surrounded by her friends ; the
revulsion of feeling which had taken place in
her favour expressed itself in a hundred trifles.
But her colour was gone, and returned no
more, though she bore herseif with outward
calmness. It was Colonel Tredennis who was
her first partner when they returned to the
baU-room. He had taken a seat near her
at the supper-table, and spoken a few words
to her.

" Will you give me a place on your card,

K 2

244 Through One Administration.

Bertha ? " he had said, and she had handed- — ^ ^^
to him in silence.

He was not fond of dancing, and they h ^^3^4
rarely daneed together, but he wished to ^

near her until she had had time to reco\/«5^^ ^^^^
herseif. Better he than another man wl^^^^^^^^^
might not understand so well ; he knewha^-*^;^
to be silent at least.

So they went through their danee togeth^^ -^^f,
exchanging but few words, and interest^^-^^^d
spectators looked on, and one or two i-*^c-
marked to each other that, upon the wholÄ^^^G»
it appeared that Mrs. Amory was rather w^^^ü
supported, and that there had evidently be^^^^
a mistake somewhere.

And then the Colonel took her back t^^^
her seat, and there were new partners ; an— ^^
between the danees one matron after anoth^^^'^
found the way to her, and, influenced by th ^^
general revulsion of feeling, exhibited a coi
diality and interest in marked contrast wit^^
the general bearing at the outset of th^ ^^
evening. Perhaps there were those who wer^^ '
rather glad to be relieved of the responsibility
laid upon them. When the presidential party
arrived, it was observed that the President-
himself was very cordial when he joined the

The Ball, and After It, 245

^roup at the end of the room, the centre

Sgure of which was the wife of his friend and

favourite cabinet officer. It was evident that

he, at least, had not been affected by the

gossip of the hour. His greeting of Mrs,

Amory was marked in its kindness, and before

he went away it was whispered about that he

also had feit an interest in the matter when it

had reached his ears, and was not sorry to

have an opportunity of indirectly expressing

his opinion.

The great lady took her Üeparture in bitter-
ness of spirit, the dances went on, Bertha
went through one after another, and between
her waltzes held her small court and was
glanced at askance no more. Any slight
Opposition which might have remained would
have been overpowered by the mere force of
changed circumstances. Before the evening
was at an end, it had become piain that the
attempt to repress and overwhelm little Mrs.
Amory had been a complete failure, and had
left her better defended than it had found her.

" But she has lost something," Senator
Blundel said to himself, as he watched her
dancing. ** Confound it 1 — I can see it — she
is not what ßhe was three months ago —

246 Throügh One Administrä^tion.

Vto

she is not what she was when she came i:
the room."

Tredennis also recognized the change wk
had come upon her, and before long ^ .

also that she had seen his recognition of '

and that she made no eflfort to conceal -^^ ^^
from him. He feit that he could almost ha*^^^^
better borne to see her old, careless gaiet^^ ^v »
which he had been wont to resent in secir^^^^^
bitterness of heart.

Onee, when they chaneed to stand alorr^^^
together for a nioment, she spoke to hii^ ^^
quickly.

" Is it late ? *' she asked. " We seem to hav-«^^^
been here so long ! I have danced so mucl
Will it not soon be time to go home ? "

" Do you want to go home ? " he asked.

" Yes ! " she answered, almost breathlessly
"the music seems so loud it be wilders me
little. How gay it is I How the people dance
The sound and motion make me blind an(
dizzy, Philip ! "

The tone in which she uttered his name was
so low and tense that he was startled by it.

" What is it ? " he asked.

" If there are many more dances, I am
afraid — I cannot go through them — ^I think

The Ball, and After It, 247

•I am breaking down, and I must not — I
xnust not ! Teil me what to do 1 '*

He made a movement so that he stood
<5lirectly before her and shielded her from the
Observation of those near them. He realised
t;he danger of the moment.

» " Look up at me ! " he said. '' Try to fix

your eyes on me steadily. This feeling will

pass away directly. You will go soon and you

must not break down. Do not let yourself be

afraid that you will."

She obeyed him like a child, trying to look
at him steadily.

" Teil me one more danee will be enough,"
she Said, " and say you will dance it with me
if you can."

" I will," he answered, " and you need not
speak a word."

When the Senator found himself alone in
the carriage with her his sense of the triumph
achieved found its expression in words.

" Well," he said, " I think we have put an
end to that story."

" Yes," Bertha answered, '* they will not say
anything more about me. You have saved me
from that."

248 TsRouGH One Administration. .

She leaned forward and looked out of the
window. Camages blocked the street, and
were driving up and driving away ; policemen
were opening and shutting doors and calling
names loudly; a few street- Arabs stood on
the pavement and looked with envious eyes
at the bright dresses and luxurious wraps of
the party passing nnder the awniug ; the glare
of gas-light feil upon a pretty face upturned
to its companions, and a girrs laugh rang out
on the night air. Bertha tumed away. She
looked at Senator Blundel. Her own face had
no colour.

" I think," she said, " I think I have been
to my last ball."

"No— no/' he answered. "That's non-
sense. You will dance at many a one."

" I think," she said, " I think this is the
last."

Senator Blundel did not accompany her
into the house when they reached it. He left
her at the door, almost wringing her small
cold band in his stout warm one.

"Come!" he said. "You are tired now,
and no wonder, but to-morrow you will be
better. You want sleep and you must have
it. Go in, child, and go to bed. Grood-

. The Ball, and After It. 249

night. God bless you I You will — ^be better
to-morrow."

She went through the hall slowly, intend-
ing to go to her room, but when she reached
the parlour she saw that it was lighted. She
had given Orders that the servants should
not sit up for her, and the house was silent
with the stilin ess of sleep. She tumed at
the parlour door and looked in, A fire still
bumed in the grate, her own chair was
drawn up before it, and in the chair sat a
figure, the sight of which caused her to stait
forward with an exclamation — a tall, slender,
old figure, his gray head bowed upon his
hand.

" Papa ! " she eried. " Can it be you, papa ?
What has happened ? *'

He rose rather slowly, and looked at her ;
it was evident that he had been plunged in
deep thought ; his eyes were heavy, and he
looked aged and wom. He put out his hand,
took hers, and drew her to him.

" My dear," he said. " My dear child I "

She stood quite still for a moment, looking
up at him.

" You have come to teil me something," she
said at length, in a low, almost monotonous

250 Through One Administration.

voice. " And it is something about Richard
It is something — something wretched.''

A slight flush mounted to his cheek — a
flush of shame.

"Yes," he answered, "it is something
wretched/'

She began to shake like a leaf, but it was
not from fear.

" Then do not be afraid," she said, " there
is no need ! Richard — ^has not spared me ! ''

It was the first time through all she had
borne and hidden, through all the years
holding, for her, suffering and bittemess and
disenchantment which had blighted all her
youth — it was the first time she had permitted
her husband's name to escape her lips when
she could not compel h^rself to utter it gently,
and that at last he himself had forced such
Speech from her was the bitterest indignity
of all.

And if she feit this, the Professor feit it
keenly, too. He had marked her silence and
self-control at many a time when he had
feit that the fire that bumed in her must
make her speak ; but she had never spoken,
and the dignity of her reserve had touched
him often.

The Ball, and After It. 251

" What is it that Kichard has done now,
papa ? " she said.

He put a tremulous hand into bis pocket,
and drew forth a letter.

" Kichard/' he said — " Eichard has gone
abroad."

She had feit that she was to receive some
blow, but she had scarcely been prepared for
this. She repeated bis words in bewilderment.

" Kichard has gone abroad ! "

The Professor put bis hand on her Shoulder.

*' Sit down^ my dear," he said. " You must
öit down."

There was a chair near her ; it stood by the
table on which the Professor had been wont
to take bis cup of tea ; she tumed and sat
down in this chair, and resting her elbows
-on the table, dropped her forehead upon her
liands« The Professor drew near to her side,
bis gentle, refined old face flushed and paled
altemately ; bis hands were tremulous ; he
spoke in a low, agitated voice.

** My dear," he said, " I find it very hard
to teU you all — all I have discovered. It is
very bitter to stand here upon your husband's
hearth, and teil you — my child and bis wife
• — ^that the shadow of dishonour and disgrace

252 Thkough One Administration.

rests upon him. He has not been truthful;
we have — ^been deceived/'

She did not utter a word.

" For some time I have been anxious/' he
went on, " but I blame myself that I was not
anxious sooner. I am not a business man —
I have not been practica! in my methods of
dealing with him; the fault was in a great
measure mine. His nature was not a strong
one — ^it was almost impossible for him to resist
temptation ; I knew that, and should have
remembered it. I have been very blind. I
did not realise what was going on before my
eyes. I thought his interest in the Westoria
scheme was only one of his many whims. I
was greatly to blame."

'' No," Said Bertha ; ^* it was not you who
were to blame. I was more blind than you
— I knew him better than — than any one
eise."

" A short time ago/' said the Professor, " I
received a letter from an old friend who knows
a great deal of my business aflfairs. He is a
business man, and I have been glad to intruat
him with the management of various invest-
ments. In this manner he knew something
of the investment of the money which was

Tnfi Ball, and After It. 253

yours. He knew more of Richard's methods
t}han Richard was aware of. He had heard
xumoiirs of the Westoria land scheine, and
liad accidentally, in the transaction of his
businees, made some discoveries. He asked
xne if I knew the extent to which your fortune
liad been speculated with. Knowing a few
facts, he was able to guess at others "

Bertha lifted her face from her hands.

** My money ! " she exclaimed. " My
f örtune 1 "

*/ He had speculated with it at various times,
Bometimes gaining, sometimes losing — the
Westoria affair seems to have dazzled him —
and he invested largely ''

Bertha rose from her chair.

"It was Philip Tredennis's money he in-
vested," she Said. " Philip Tredennis "

" It was not Philip's money," the professor
answered ; " that I have discovered. But it
was Philip's generosity which would have
made it appear so. In this letter — written
just before he sailed — Eichard has admitted
the truth to me — finding what proof I had
against him."

Bertha lifted her hands and let them fall
at her sides.

254 Through One Administration.

" Papa," she said, " I do notunderstand thi»
— I do not understand. Philip Tredennis I He
gave money to Richard I Richard accepted

raoney from him — ^to shield hiniself, to !

This is too much for me 1 "

" Philip had intended the money for Janey/'
said the professor, " and when he understood
how Richard had involved himself, and how his
diflficulties would affect you and your future,
he made a most remarkable oflFer : he offered to
assume the responsibility of Richard's losses.
He did not intend that you should know what
he had done. Such a thing would only have
been possible for Philip Tredennis, and it was
because I knew him so well, that, when I
heard that it was his money that had been
risked in the Westoria lands, I feit that
something was wrong. He was very reticent,
and that added to my suspicions. Then I
made the discoveries through my friend,
and my accusations of Richard forced him
to ad mit the truth."

'' The truth ! " said Bertha— " that / was
to live upon Philip Tredennis's money — that,
having been rained by my husband, I
was to be supported by Philip Tredennis's
bounty ! "

The Ball, and After It. 255

^' Eichard was in despair," said the Professor,
** and in his extremity he forgot "

" He forffot me ! " said Bertha. " Yes, he
forg.^ ^t many things."

"It has seemed always to be Philip who
lias remembered," said the Professor, sadly.
* * Philip has been generous and thoughtful for
ns from first to last."

Bertha's band closed itself.

" Yes," she eried ; " always Philip — always
l>hilip!"

"What could have been finer and more
delicate than his care and planning for
yoxL in this tronble of the last few days,
to which I have been so blind ! " said the
I^rofessor.

^^ His care and planning!" echoed Bertha,
tuming slowly towards him. " His ! Did you
xiot hear that Senator Blundel "

'*It was he who went to Senator Blundel,"
the Professor answered. '*It was he who
spoke to the wife of the Secretary of State. I
leamed it from Mrs. Merriam. Out of all th^;
pain we have bome, or may have to lK;ar,
the memoiy of Philipps faithful affc<;tioü for
US ^"

He did not finish bis sent^^ncc. Bertlja

256 Through One Administäation.

stopped him. Her clenched band had risen
to her side, and was pressed against it

" It was Philip who came to me in my
trouble in Virginia," she said. ** It was Philip
who saw my danger and wamed me of it when
I would not hear him ; but I could not know
that I owed him such a debt as this I "

** We should never have known it from him,"
the Professor replied. " He would have kept
silent to the end."

Bertha looked at the clock upon the
mantel.

" It is too late to send for him now," sie
said, ** it is too late, and a whole night must
pass before "

" Before you say to him — what ? " asked the
Professor.

"Before I teil him that Richard made a
mistake," she answered, with white and trem-

bling lips, " that he must take his money

back — that I will not have it."

She caught her father's arm and clung to it,
looking into his troubled face.

" Papa," she said, " will you take me home
again ? I think you must if you wiU. There
seems to be no place for me. If you will let
me stay with you until I have time to think."

The Ball, and After It. 257

The Professor laid bis hand upon hers and
leld it closely.

" My dear," he said, " my home is yours.
t has never seemed so nouch mine since you
jffc it ; but this may not be so bad as you
hink. I do not know how much we may rely
pon Richard's hopes — they are not always to
•e relied upon — but it appears that he has
.opes of retrieving some of his losses through
certain speculation he seems to have regarded
s a failure, but which suddenly promises to
Tove a success."

*^ I have never thought of being poor/' said
Jertha ; *' I do not think I should know how
o be poor. But, somehow, it is not the
noney I am thinking of — that will come
ater, I suppose. I scarcely seem to reaüse
^et "

Her voice and her hand shook, and she
jlung to him more closely.

"Everything has gone wrong," she said
j^ildly, " everything must be altered. No
)ne is left to care for me but you 1 No one
nust do it but you. Now that Eichard has
yone, it is not Philip who must be kind to me
—not PhUip— Philip last of all ! "

'' Not Phüip ! '' he echoed. " Not PhiUp ? "

VOL. III. S

258 Thkough One Administration.

And as he said it, they both heard fee
ascending the steps at the front door.

" My child/' said the Professor, " that
Philip now. He spoke of calling in on me
on his way home. Perhaps he has been
anxious at finding me out so late. I do not
understand you — ^but must I go and send
himawayl»

" No/' she answered, shuddering a little, as
if with cold, " it is for me to send him away.
But I must teil him first about the money. I
am glad he has come — I am glad another
night will not pass without his knowing. I
think I want to speak to him alone — ^if you
will send him here, and wait for a little while
in the library."

She did not see her father's face as he went
away from her ; he did not see hers ; she
tumed and stood upon the hearth with her
back towards the door.

She stood so when a few minutes afterwairds
Philip Tredennis came in ; she stood so until
he was within a few feet of her. Then she
moved a little and looked up.

What she saw in him arrested for the
moment her power to speak, and for that
moment both were silent. Often as she had

The Ball, and After It. 259

ecognised the change which haxi taken place
a him, often as the realisation of it had wrung
L€r heart, and wrung it all the more that she
Lad understood so little, she had never before
een it as she saw it then. All the weariness,
»he anxious pain, the hopeless sadness of his
>ast seemed to have come to the snrface ; he
ßould endure no more ; he had borne the strain
too long, and he knew too well that the end
had come. No need for words to teil him that
he must lose even the poor and bitter comfort
he had clung to ; he had made up his mind
to that when he had defended her against
the man who himself should have been her
defence.

So he stood silent, and his deep eyes
looked out from his strong, wom, haggard
face, holding no reproach, füll only of pity
for her.

There was enough to pity in her. If she
saw anguish in his eyes, what he saw in hers
as she uplifted them he could scarcely have
expressed in any words he knew ; surely there
were no words into which he could have put
the pang their look gave him, telling him as it
did that she had reached the point where he
could stand on guard no more.

s 2

260 Through One Administration.

" Eichard/' she said at length, *' has gone
away."

** That I knew," he answered.

" When ? " she asked.

" I had a letter from him this moming," he
said.

"You did not wish to teil me?" she
retumed.

" I thought," he began, " that perhaps— "
and stopped.

" You thought that he would write to me
too," she said. " He — did not."

He did not speak, and she went on.

"When I retumed to-night," she said,
" papa was waiting for me. He had received
a letter too, and it told him — something he
suspected before — something I had not sus-
pected — something I could not know "

Her voice broke, and when she began agaiu
there was a ring of desperate appeal in it.

" When I was a girl," she said, " when you
knew me long ago, what was there of good iß
me that you should have remembered i*
through all that you have known of me since
then — ^there must have been something-r-
something good or touching — something more
than the goodness in yourself — ^that made you

The Ball, and After It. 261

pitiful of me, and generous to me, and anxious
for my sake ? Teil me what it was. "

" It was," he said, and his own voice was
low and broken too, and his deep and sad
eyes were a look she had never seen before
— the look that in the eyes of a woman
wonld have spoken of weUing tears, "it was
— ^yourself*

*' Myself ! " she cried. " Oh, if it was my-
seif — and there were goodness and truth, and
what was worth remembering in me, why did
it not save me from what I have been — and
from what I am to-day ? I do not think I
meant to live my life so badly then ; I was
only caxeless and happy in a girlish way. I
had so much faith and hope, fnd believed so
much in all good things-and yet my life
has all been wroDg — and I seem to believe
no more, and everything is lost to me ; and
9ince the days when I looked forward there is
a gulf that I can never, never pass again."

She came nearer to him, and a sob broke
from her.

"What am I to say to you," she said,
"now that I know all that you have done
for me while I — while I — . Why should
you have cared to proteet me ? I was not

262 Through One Administration.

kind to you — I was not careful of yo ^^^
feelings "

" No," he answered, " you — were not."

" I used to think that you despised me ^^
ahe went on ; '' once I told you so. I eve^ ß
tried to give you reason. I showed my wor^^t
seif to you — I was unjust and bitter — I hurr**
you many a time."

He seemed to labour for his words, and ye- ^
he laboured rather to control and check thai^^
to utter them.

" I am going away," he said. " When
made the arrangement with Richard, of whicl
you know, I meant to go away. I gathered,
from what your father said, that you meaiL^-=^
to render useless my poor eifort to be of use ^
to you."

" I cannot — " she began, but she could go
no farther.

" When I leave you — as I must," he said,
"let me at least carry away with me the
memory that you were generous to me at
the last."

" At the last," she repeated after him, " the
last ! "

She uttered a stränge, little, inarticulate
cry. He saw her lift up one of her anns,

The Ball, and After It. 263

look blindly at the bracelet on her wrist,
drop it at her aide, and then stand looking
up at him.

There was a moment of dead silence.

"Janey shall take the money," she said.
" I cannot."

What the change was that he saw come over
her white face and swaying figure he only feit,
as he might have feit a blow in the dark from
an unknown h and. What the great shock
was that came upon him he only feit in the
same way.

She sank upon the sofa, clinging to the
cushion with one shaking hand. Suddenly
she broke into helpless sobbing, like a child's,
tears Streaming down her cheeks as she lifted
her face in appeal.

"You have been good to me," she said.
"Youhave been kind. Be good to me — ^be
kind to me — once more. You must go away
— and I cannot take from you what you want
to give me ;. but I am not so bad as 1 have
seemed — or so hard ! What you have wished
me to be — I will try to be I I will live for
my children. I will be — as good — as I can.
I will do anything you teil me to do — ^before
you leave me ! I will live all my life after-

264 Thbough One Administration.

waxds — as Bertha Herrick might have livec^^
it ! Only do not ask me to take th^^ -^
money 1 ''

For a few seconds all the room was still —
When he answered her she coidd barely liear*:::*^
his voice.

" I will ask of you nothing," he said.

He lifted her hand and bowed his head over ^^
it. Then he laid it back npon the cushion.
It lay there as if it had been carved from
stone.

" Good-bye," he said. " Good-bye."

He saw her lips part, but no sound came
from them.

So he went away. He scarcely feit the
floor beneath his feet. He saw nothing of
the room about him. It seemed as if there
was an encQess joumey between himself and
the door through which he was to pass. The
extremity of his mortal agony was like
drunkenness.

When he was gone, she feil with a shudder,
and lay still with her cheek against the
crimson cushion.

The Professor was sitting at her bedside
when she opened her eyes again. Her first

The Ball, and After It. 265

recognition was of his figure, sitting, the head
bowed upon the hand, as she had seen it when
she came first into the house.

*' Papa," she said, " you are with me ? "

" Yes, my dear," he answered.

" And — there is no one eise ? "

'* No, my dear."

She put out her hand and laid it upon his
irin. He thought, with a bitter pang, that
she did it as she had often done it in her
^Ihood, and that, in spite of the change in
her, she wore a look which seemed to belong
to those days too.

*' You will stay with me," she said. " I
have come back to you."

CHAPTER XIII.

A PARTING.

Miss Jessup was very eloquent in th^^
Paragraph which she devoted to the announce-
ment of the departure of Colonel Tredennis,
" the well-known hero of the plains, whose fine,
bronzed face and soldierly figure had become
so familiär to ns during the past three
seasons." She could scarcely express the
regret feit by the many friends he had made,
on losing him, and, indeed, there ran through-
out the flowers of speech a Suggestion of
kindly, admiring sympathy and womanly
good-feeling which quite went to the ColoneFs
heart, and made him wonder at his own good
fortune when he read the paragraph in ques-
tion. He was far away from Washington
when the paper reached him. He had

A Parting. 267

^ome tired of life at the capital, it was
^^*icl, and had been glad to exchange with
^ onan who found its gaieties better suited

him.

**It is true," he said to himself when he
^^ard of this report, "that they were not
^'^^ted to me, nor I to them."

How he lived through the weeks, performing

'the ordinary routine of his duty, and bearing

^th him hour by hour, night and day, the

load of grief and well-nigh intolerable anguish

which he knew was never to be lighter, he

did not know. The days came and went. It

was moming, noon, or night, and he did not

feel the hours either long or short. There were

nights when, his work being done, he returned

to his quarters and staggered to his seat,

falling lipon it blind and sick with a heavy

liorror of the day.

" This," he would say, again and again,
" this is nnnatural. To bear such torture and
live through it seems scarcely human."

Sometimes he was so wrought upon by it
physically that he thought he should not live
through it ; but he bore so much that at last he
gained a hopeless faith in his own endurance.
He was not alone. It was as he had told her

268 Through One Administration.

it would be. From the hour that he looked L
last upon her, it seemed that her face hsu— ^
never faded from before his aching eyes. HZH^^
had all the past to live over again, all it=^=^s
bitter mysteries to read in a new light am
learn to understand.

There was time enough now for him
think it all over slowly, to recall to his min<
eveiy look and chaDge and tone ; her caprices-^
her coldness, the wouüds she had given him,
he bore them all again, and each time h(
came back with a paDg more terrible to that
last moment — to her last look, to her last,
broken words.

" Oh, God ! " he cried, " does she bear this
too ? "

He knew nothing of her save what he
gained at rare intervals from Miss Jessup's
Society column, which he read deliberately
from beginning to end as each paper reached
him. The friends of Mrs. Amory, Miss
Jessup's first Statement announced, would
regret to learn that the heaJth of that
charming young wife and mother was so far
from being what was to be desired, that it
necessitated a temporary absence from those
social circles of which she was so bright and

A Parting. 269

graceful an omament. For a while her name
was missing from the lists of those who ap^
peared at the various entertainments, and
then he began occasionally to see it again,
and found a little sad comfort in the thought
that she must be stronger. His kind, brown
face changed greatly in these days ; it grew
lean and haggard and hopeless, and here and
there a grey thread showed itself in his close,
soldier-cropped hair. He planned out heavy
work for himself, and kept close in his
quarters, and those of his friends who had
known him before his stay in Washington
began to ask each other what had so broken
Philip Tredennis.

The first time that Mrs. Amory appeared
in Society, after her Indisposition, was at the
house of her friend, Mrs. Sylvestre. During
her temporary seclusion she had seen Mrs.
Sylvestre frequently. There had been few
days when Agnes had not spent some hours
with her. When she had been denied to
every one eise, Agnes was admitted.

" It is only fatigue, this," Bertha had said ;
" but other people tire me so ! You never
tire me."

She was not confined to her bed. She had

270 Through One Administration.

changed her room, taking possession of th
pretty pink and blue Chamber, and lay upo
the sofa through the days, sometimes lookin
at the fire, often with her eyes closed.

The two conversed but little ; frequently
there was silence between them for som
time; but Agnes knew that she was doing-
as Bertha wished when she came and sat
with her.

At the end of a week, Mrs. Sylvestre came
in one moming and found Bertha dressed and
sitting in a chair.

'' I am going down-stairs/' she said.

" Do you think you are strong enough ? '*
Agnes asked. She did not look so.

" I must begin to try to do something/'
was the indirect reply. " One must always
begin. I want to lie still and not speak or
move; but I must not do that. I will go
down stairs, and I think I should like to
see Laurence."

As she went down the staircase she moved
very slowly, and Agnes saw that she clung to
the balustrade for support. When she reached
the parlour door she paused for a moment,
then crossed the threshold a little hurriedly,
and went to the sofa and sat down. She was

A Parting. 271

fcremulons, and tears had risen to her eyes
tom very weaknes».

" I thought I was stronger," she said. But
jhe said nothing more nntil, a few moments
[ater, she began to speak of Tom and Kitty,
in whom she had been much interested. It
liad been at her Suggestion that, after divers
Emitless ejBForts, the struggle to obtain Tom
a "place'' had been abandoned, and finally
there had been procured for him a position
likely to prove permanent, in a house of
business where principles might be of value.
Tom's lungs were still a trifle delicate, but he
was rapturously happy in the small home to
purchase which Mrs. Sylvestre had advanced
the means, and his simple bliss was greatly
added to by the advent of Kitty 's baby.

So they talked of Tom and Kitty and the
baby, and of Arbuthnot, and his friendship
for them, and the oddities of it, and his way
of making his efforts and kindness seem
more than half a jest.

"No one can be kinder than Laurence,"
Bertha said. "No one could be a truer
friend."

" I think so now," Agnes answered quietly.

" He is not so light, after all," said Bertha.

272 Through One Administration.
"Perhaps few of us are quite as light as

we seem."

" I did him injustice at first/' Agnes replied.
" I understand him better now."

" If he should go away, you would miss him
a little/' Said Bertha. " He is a person one
misses when he is absent."

" Does he — " Agnes began. " I have not
heard him speak of going away."

*' There is just a likelihood of it/' Bertha
returned. " Papa has been making an effort
for him with the Secretary of State. He might
be sent abroad."

" I have not heard him refer to the pos-
sibility," said Agnes. Her manner was still
quiet, but she had made a slight involuntary
movement, which closed the book she held.

" I do not think papa has spoken to him
for some time/' Bertha repKed. " And when
he first referred to his plan, Laurence thought
it out of the question, and did not appear to
regard it seriously.^'

For a few moments Mrs. Sylvestre did not
speak Then she said :

*^ Certainly it would be much better for him
than to remain here.'^

*'If he should go," said Bertha, "no one

A Parting. 273

^11 miss him as I shall. We used to be so
^y together, and now "

She did not end her sentence, and for a
vhile neither of them spoke again, and she lay
[uite still. Agnes remained to dine with her,
tnd in the evening Arbuthnot came in.

When he entered the bright, familiär room,
de found himself glancing round it, trying to
iinderstand exactly what mysterious change
bad come upon it. There was no change in its
belongings — ^the touches of colour, the scat-
tered trifles, the pictures and draperies wore
their old-time look of having been arranged by
one deft hand ; but it did not seem to be the
poom he had known so long — the room he had
been so fond of, and had counted the prettiest
and most inspiring place he knew.

Bertha had not left the sofa ; she was talk-
ing to Agnes, who stood near her. She had a
brilliant flush on her cheeks, her eyes were
bright when she raised them to greet him, and
her hand, as he took it, was hot and tremulous.

" Naturally," she said, " you will begin to
vaunt yourself. You told me I should break
down if I did not take care of myself, and I
have broken down — a little. I am reduced to
lying on sofas. Don't you know how I always

VOL. III. T

274 Through One Administration.

derided women who lie on sofas ? This is
retribution ; but don't meet it with too
haughty and vainglorious a spirit ; before
Lent I shall be as gay as ever."

" I don't doubt it," he answered. " But in the
meantime allow me to congratulate you on the
fact that the sofa is not entirely unbecoming."
" Thank you," she said. " Will you sit
down now and teil me — teil me what people
are saying ? "

" Of " he beaan.

She smüed.

" Of me," she answered. " They were
saying a great deal of me a week ago ; teil me
what they say now. You must hear in going
your giddy rounds."

" You are very well treated," he replied.
'* There is a certain great lady who is most
uncomfortably commented upon. I can
scarcely imagine that she enjoys it."
Her smile ended in a fatigued sigh.
" The tide turned very quickly," she said.
*' It is well for me that it did. I should not
have had much mercy if I had stood alone-
Ah I it was a good thing for me that you
were all so brave. You might have deserted
me, too — it would have been very simple-^-

A Paeting. 275

and then — then the gates of paradise would
have beeil shut against nie."

** That figure of speech meaniug — ? " sug-
gested Arbuthnot.

** That I should have been invited to no
more dinner-parties and receptions ; that no-
body woiild have come to my Thursday Even-
ings ; that Miss Jessup would never again
have mentioned me in the Wabash GazetteJ'

" That would have been very bitter," he
answered.

" Yes," she retumed, " it would have been
bitter, indeed."

" Do you know," he said next, " that I have
come to-night partly for the reason that I
have something to teil you ? "

" I rather suspected it," she replied, " though
I could scarcely explain why."

" Am I to hear it, too ? " inquired Agnes.

" If you are kind enough to be interested,".
he answered. " It will seem a slight enough
aflfair to the world at large, but it seems rather
tremendous to me. I feel a trifle overpowered
and nervous. Through the kind eflforts of
Professor Herrick I have been honoured with
the offer of a place abroad."

Bertha held out her hand.

T 2

27G Throügh One Administration.

" Minister to the Court of St. James I '' she
Said. " How they will congratulate themselves
in London 1 "

"They would," he repUed, "if an iU-
adjusted and singularly unappreciative govem-
ment had not particularised a modest comer
of Germany as standing in greater need of
m)'- special abilities." But he took her offered
hand.

When he glanced at Mrs. Sylvestre — truth
to say he had taken some precautions against
seeing her at all as he made his announcement
— he found her bestowing upon him one of
the calmest of her soft, reflective looks.

" I used to like some of those quiet places
in Germany," she said, **but you will find
it a ehange from Washington."

** I think," he answered, '^ that I should like
a ehange from Washington," and as soon as
he had spoken he detected the touch of acrid
feeling in his words.

" I should faney myself," she said, her soft
look entirely undisturbed, " that it might
be agreeable after one had been here
some time."

He had always admired beyond expression
that touch of half forgetful, pensive calmness

A Pakting. 277

in her voice and eyes, but he did not enjoy it
just now.

" It is a matter of temperament, I sup-
pose," was his thought, " but, after all, we
have been friends/'

Neither could it be said that he enjoy ed
the pretty and picturesque stories of German
life she told afterwards, They were told so
well that they brought very near the life he
might expect to lead, and he was not exactly
in the mood to care to stand face to face with
it. But he controUed himself sufficiently to
make an excellent audience, and never had
been outwardly in better spirits than he was
after the stories were told. He was cool and
vivacious ; he told a story or two himself ; he
was in good voice when he went to the piano
and sang. They were all laughing, when
Agnes left the room to put on her wraps to
return home.

When she was gone the laugh died down
with odd suddenness.

" Larry," said Bertha, ** do you really want
to go ? ''

" No," he answered, turning sharply, " I
don't want to go. I loathe and abhor the
thought of it."

278 Through One Administration.

** You want," she said, " to stay here ? "

"Yes, I do/' was his reply, "and that
decides me."

" To go ? " she asked, watching his pale,
disturbed face.

" Yes, to go 1 There is nothing to stay
here for. I need the change. I have been
here long enough — too long ! "

"Yes/* she retumed, "I think you have
been here too long. You had better go away
— ^if you think there is nothing to stay for."

" When a man has nothinsj to offer — " he
broke off and flushed up hotly. " If I had
a shadow of a right to a reason for staying,"
he exclaimed, " do you suppose I should not
hold on to it, and fight for it^ and demand
what belonged to me? There might be a
struggle — there would be ; but no other man
should have one jot or tittle that persistenee
and effort might win in time for me ! A man
who gives up is a fool I I have nothing to
give up. I haven't even the right to sur-
render I I hadn't the right to enter the field
and take my wounds like a man I It is pleasant
to reflect that it is my own — fault. I trifled
with my life ; now I want it, and I can't get
it back."

A Parting. 279

" Ah 1 " she Said, " that is an old story ! ''

And then Agnes returned, and he took her
Lome.

On their way there they talked principally
of Tom and Kitty.

" They will miss you greatly," Agnes said.

** They will be veiy kind to do it," was
his reply.

** We shall all miss you," she added.

" That will be kinder still," he answered.
" Might I be permitted to quote the ancient
anecdote of the coloured warrior, who, on run-
ning away in battle, was reproached and told
that a Single life counted as nothing on such
great occasions, and that if he had fallen he
would not have been missed — his reply to this
heroic Statement of the case being, that he
should have been likely to miss himself. I
shaU miss myself, and already a gentle
melancholy begins to steal over me. I am
not the gleesome creature I was before good
luck befell me."

But despite this lightness of tone, their
walk was not a very cheerful one ; indeed,
after this speech they were rather quiet, and
they parted with few words at the door,
Arbuthnot declining to go into the house.

280 Through One Administkation.

When Agues entered alone, Mrs. Merriam
looked up from her novel in some surprise.

"I thought I heard Mr. Arbuthnot/' she
Said.

''He left me at the door," Mrs. Sylvestre
answered.

" What ! " Said Mrs. Merriam, " without
Coming to say good-night to me ! I wanted
to teil him what a dissipated evening I have
been spending with my new book."

** He has been telling us good news," said
Agnes, Standing before the fire and loosening
her fürs. " He has been oflfered a consulship."

Mrs. Merriam closed her book and laid it
on the table.

" Will he accept it ? " she asked.

" He could scarcely refuse it," Agnes replied.
'' It is a deeided advance ; he likes the life
abroad, and it might even lead to something
better in the future — at least one rather fancies
such things are an opening."

'* It is true," reflected Mrs. Merriam, **that
he seems to have no particular ties to hold
him in one place rather than another."

'* None," Said Agnes. " I don't know
whether that is his fortune or his misfortune.*'

** His misfortune ! " said Mrs. Merriam»

A Parting. 281

" He is of the nature to know how to value
them. Perhaps, after all, he may form them
if he goes abroad. It is not too late."

" Perhaps so," said Agnes. " That would
be another reason why it would be better for
him to go."

" Still," remarked Mrs. Merriam, " for my
own part I don't call it good news that he
is going."

" I meant," said Agnes, *' good news for him."

'' It is bad news for us," Mrs. Merriam
replied. "He will leave a gap. I have
grown inconveniently fond of him myself."

But Agnes made no response, and soon
afterwards went to her room in silence. She
was rather silent the next day when she
made her visit to Bertha. Mrs. Merriam
observed that she was rather silent at home ;
but, having seen her retire within herseif
before, she was too just to assign a definite
reason for her quiet mood. Still she watched
her with great interest, which had a fashion
of deepening wh-en Laurence Arbuthnot ap-
peared upon the seene. But there was no
change in her manner towards Arbuthnot.
She was glad to see him ; she was interested
in his plans. Her gentle pleasure in his

282 Through One Administration.

Society seemed neither greater nor less thau
usual ; her gentle regret at his approaching
absence from their circle said absolutely
nothing. In the gaieties of the closißg
season they saw even more of eaeh other
than usual.

** It will be generous of you to allow
me a few additional privileges/' Arbuthnot
said ; " an extra dance or so, for instance, on
occasion ; a few more calls than I am entitled
to. Will you kindly, if you please, regard
me in the light of a condemned criminal,
and be lenient with me in my last
moments ? "

She did not refuse to be lenient with him.
Much as he had been in the habit of enjoying
the evenings spent in her parlour, he had
never spent evenings such as feil to him in
these last days. Somehow it happened that
he found her alone more frequently. Mrs.
Merriam had letters to write, or was otherwise
occupied ; so it chanced that he saw her
as it had not been his fortune to see her
very often.

But it was decided that he was to spend
no more winters in Washington, for some
.time at least ; and though he spent his

A Parting. 283

evenings thus agreeably, he was making
daily preparation for his departure, and it
cannot be said that he enjoyed the task.
There had been a time, it is true, when
he would have greeted with pleasure the
prospeet of the change. before him, but that
time was past.

" I am having my bad quarter of an
hour," he said, **and it serves me right."

But as the days slipped by he found it
even a worse quarter of an hour than he
had fancied it would be. It cost him an
effort to bear himself, as it was only dis-
cretion that he should. His one resource
lay in allowing himself no leisure. When
he was not otherwise oceupied, he spent
his time with his friends. He was oftenest
with the Professor and Bertha. He had
some quiet hours in the Professor's study,
and in the parlour, where Bertha sat or lay
upon the sofa before the fire. She did not
aUow herseif to lie upon the sofa often, and
refused to be regarded as an invalid ; but
Arbuthnöt never found himself alone with
her without an overpowering realisation of
the change which had taken place in her.
But she rarely spoke of herseif.

284 Through One Administrä^tion.

" There is nothing more," she said, once,
" to say about me."

She was willing enough to speak of himself,
however, and of his future, and her gentle
interest often moved him deeply.

" We have been such good friends," she
would say — " such good friends. It is not
often that *a man is as true a friend to a
woman as you have been to me. I wish—
oh, I wish you might be happy ! "

" It is too late," he would reply, '* but I
shall not waste time in complaining. I will
even try not to waste it in regretting."

But he knew that he did waste it so, and
that each passing day left a sharper pang
behind it, and marked a greater struggle.

'* There is a great deal of trouble in this
World," the Professor said to him, simply,
after watching him a few minutes one day.
" I should like to know what you are carrying
with you to Germany."

**I am carrying nothing," Arbuthnot
answered. "That is my share."

They were smoking their cigars together,
and through the blue haze floating about
him the Professor looked out with a sad
face.

A Parting. 285

" Do you— " he said," " do you leave
anything behind you ? "

" Everything," said Arbuthnot. The Pro-
fessor made a disturbed movement.

"Perhaps," he said, "this was a mistake,
Perhaps it would be better if you remained.
It is not yet too late "

" Yes it is," Arbuthnot interposed, with a
faint laugh. " And nothiug would induce me
to remain."

It was on the occasion of a reception given
by Mrs. Sylvestre that he was to make his
last appearance in the social world before his
departure. He had laid his plans in such a
manner that, having made his adieus at the
end of the evening, half an hour after
retiring from the parlours, he would be
speeding away from Washington on his way
to New York.

" It will be a good exit," he said. " And
the eye of the unfeeling world being upon me,
I shall be obliged to conceal my emotions, and
you will be spared the spectacle of my anguish.''

There were no particular traces of anguish
upon his countenance when he presented
himself, the evening in question having
arrived. He appeared, in fact, to be in

286 Through One Administration.

reasonably good spirits. Nothing could have
been more perfect than the evening was fix)in
first to last ; the picturesque and charming
home was at its best ; Mrs. Sylvestre the most
lovely central figure in its picturesqueness ;
Mrs. Merriam even more gracious and amusing
than usual. The gay world was represented
by its gayest and brightest ; the majority of
those who had appeared on the night of the
ball appeared again. Kather late in the
evening, Blundel came in fresh from an
exciting debate in the Senate, and somewhat
flushed and elated by it. He made his way
almost immediately to Bertha. Those who
stood about her made room for him as he
came. She was not sitting alone to-night ;
there seemed no likelihood of her being called

upon to sit alone again. She had not only
regained her old place, but something more.
The Professor had accompanied her, and at no
time was far away from her. He hovered
gently about in her neighbourhood, and rarely
lost sight of her. He had never leffc her for
any great length of time since the night
Tredennis had gone away. He had asked her
no questions, but they had grown very near
to each other, and any mystery he might feel

A Parting. 287

that he confronted only made him more
tender of her.

When Senator Blundel found himself
Standing before her, he gave her a sharp
glance of scrutiny.

" Well," he Said. " You are. rested and
better, and all the rest of it. Your pink
gown is very nice, and it gives you a colour,
and brightens you up,"

" I chose the shade carefuUy," she answered,
smiling. '* If it had been deeper it might
have taken some colour away from me. I am
glad you like it."

** But you are well ? " he said, a little per-
sistently. He was not so sure of her after all.
He was shrewd enough to wish she had not
found it necessary to choose her shade with
such discretion.

She smiled up at him again.

"Yes, I am well," she said. "And I am
very glad to see you again."

But for several seconds he did not answer
her ; standing, he looked at her in silence as
she remembered his doiüg in the days when
she had feit as if he was asking himself and
her a question. But she knew it was not the
same question he was asking himself now,

288 Throügh One Administration.

but another one, and after he had asked it he
did not seem to discover the answer to it,
and looked baffled and uncertain, and even
disturbed and anxious. And yet her pretty
smile did not change in the least at any
moment while he regarded her. It only
deserted her entirely onee duririg the evening.
This was when she said her last words to
Arbuthnot. He had spent the previous
evening with her in her own parlour. New,
before she went away — which she did rather
early — they had a few minutes together in
the deserted music-room, where he took her
while supper was in pi*ogress.

Neither of them had any smiles when they
went in together and took their seats in a
far comer.

Bertha caught no reflected colour from her
carefuUy chosen pink. Suddenly she looked
cold and worn.

"Laurence I " she said, "in a few hours — "
and stopped.

He ended for her.

" In a few hours I shall be on my way to
New York."

She looked down at her flowers and then
up at him.

A Parting. 289

" Oh ! " she said, " a great deal will go with
you. There is no one now who could take
from me what you will. But that is not what
I wanted to say to you. Will you let me say
to you what I have been thinking of for
several days, and wanting to say ? "

" You may say anything," he answered.

" Perhaps," she went on, hurriedly, "it will
not make any difference when it is said ; I
don't know ; " she put out her hand and
touched his arm with it ; her eyes looked
large and bright in their earnest appeal,

" Don't be angry with me, Larry/' she said ;
"we have been such good friends and the
best, best friends. I am going home soon. I
shall not stay until the e venin g is over. You
must, I think — until every one is gone away.
You might — ^you might have a few last words
to say to Agnes."

"There is nothing," he replied, "that I
could say to her."

"There might be," she said, tremulously,
"there might be — a few last words Agnes
might wdsh to say to you."

He put his head down upon his hand and
answered in a low tone :

" It is impossible that there should be."

VOL. III. u

290 Through One Administration.

" Larry/' she said, ** only you can find out
whether that is true or not, and — don't go
away before you are quite sure. Oh ! do
you remember what I told you once ? — there
is only one thing in all the world when all
the rest are tried and done with. So many
miss it. and theo everything is wrong. Don't
be too proud, Larry — don't reason too much.
If people are true to each other, and content,
what does the rest matter ? I want to know
that some one is happy like that. I wish
it might be you. If I have said too much,
forgive me ; but you may be angry with me.
I will let you — if you will not run the risk
of throwing anything away."

There was a silence.

" Promise me," she said, " promise me."

" I cannot promise you," he answered.

He left his seat.

*' I will teil you," he said. " I am driven
to-night — driven ! I never thought it couH
be so, but it is — even though I fancied I had
taught myself better. I am bearing a good
deal. I don't know how far I may trust
myself. I have not an idea about it. It is
scarcely safe for me to go near her. I have
not been near her often to-night. I am

A Parting. 291

driven. I don't know that I shall get out
of the house safely. I don't know how far I
can go, i£ I do get out of it, without Coming
back and making some kind of an outcry to
her. One can't bear everything indefinitely.
It seems to me now that the only decent
end to this would be for me to go as quickly
as possible, and not look back ; but there
never was a more impotent creature than I
know I am to-night. The sight of her is too
much for me. She looks like a tall, white
flower. She is a little pale to-night — and the
look in her eyes— I wish she were pale for
sorrow — for me. I wish she were suffering;
but she is not."

" She could not teil you if she were," said
Bertha.

** That is very true," he answered.

" Don't go away," she said, " until you have
Said good-bye to her alone."

" Don't you see," he replied, desperately,
" that I am in the condition to be unable to
go until I am actually forced ? Oh ! " he added
bitterly, " rest assured I shall hang about loug
enough." But when he returned to the
supper-room, and gave* his attention to his
usual duties, he was entirely himself again,

u 2

292 Through One Administration.

so far as his outward bearing went. He bore
about ices and salads, and endeared himself
beyond measure to dowagers with appetites,
who lay in wait. He reeeived their expressions
of grief at his approaching departure with
decorum not too grave and suflBciently grateful.
He made himself as useftd and agreeable as
usuaL

" He is always ready and amiable, that Mr.
Arbuthnot," remarked a well-seasoned, elderly
matron, who recognised useful material when
she saw it.

And Agnes, who had chaneed to see him
just as his civilities won him this encomium,
reflected upon him for a moment with a soft
gaze, and then tumed away with a secret
thought her face did not betray.

At last the rooms began to thin out. One
party after another took its departure, disap-
pearing up the stairs and reappearing after-
wards, descending and passing through the hall
to the carriages, which roUed up, one after
another, as they were called. Agnes stood
near the door-way with Mrs. Merriam, speak-
ing the last words to her guests as they left
her. She was still a little pale, but the fatigues
of the evening might easily have left her more

A Parting. 293

so. Arbuthnot found himself lingering, with
an agonising sense of disgust at his folly.
Several times he thought he would go with
the rest> and then discovered that the step
would cost him a struggle to which he was
not equal. Agnes did not look at him ; Mrs.
Merriam did.

"You must not leave us just yet," she
Said. "We want yorn* last moments. It
would be absurd to bid you good-night as
if we were to see you to-morrow. Talk to
me until Agnes has done with these people."

He could have embraced her. He was
perfectly aware that, mentally, he had lost
all his dignity, but he could do nothing
more than recognise the fact with unsparing
clearness, and gird at himself for his
weakness.

" If I were a boy of sixteen," he said
inwardly, " I should comport myself in
somethmg the same manner. I could grovel
at this kind old creature's feet because she
has taken alittle notice of me."

But at length the last guest had departed
the last carriage had been called and had
rolled away. Agnes turned from the doorway
and walked slowly to the fire-place.

294 Through One Administration.

** How empty the rooms look," she said.

"You should have a glass of wine," Mrs.
Merriam suggested. " You are certainly more
tired than you should be. You are not as
strong as I was at your age."

Arbuthnot weDt for the glass of wine into
the adjoinmg room. He was glad to absent
himself for a moment.

" In ten minutes I shall be out of the
house/' he said ; *' perhaps in five."

When he retumed to the parlour Mrs.
Merriam had disappeared. Agnes stood upon
the hearth, looking down. She lifted her eyes
with a gentle smile.

" Aunt Mildred is going to ask you to
execute a little commission for her," she said.
" She will be down soon, I think"

For the moment he was suflBciently aban-
doned and ungrateful to have lost all interest
in Mrs. Merriam. It seemed incredible that
he had only ten minutes before him and yet
could retain composure enough to reply with
perfect steadiness.

" Perhaps," he thought desperately, " I am
not going to do it so villainously after all."

He kept his eyes fixed very steadily upon
her. The soft calm of her manner seemed to

A Parting. 295

give him a sort of strength. Nothing could
have been sweeter or more unmoved than
her voice.

" I was a little afraid you would go away
early," she said, " and that we could not bid
you good-bye quietly."

"Don't bid me good-bye too quietly," he
answered. " You will excuse my emotion, I
am sure ? "

" You have been in Washington," she said,
" long enough to feel sorry to leave it."

He glanced at the clock,

" I have spent ten years here," he said ;
" one grows fond of a place, naturally."

" Yes," she replied.

Then she added ;

" Your steamer sails "

" On Wednesday," was his answer.

It was true that he was driven. He was so
hard driven at this moment that he glanced
furtively at the mirror, half fearing to find his
face ashen.

" My train leaves in an hour," he said ; "I
will bid you "

He held out his band without ending his
sentence. She gave him her slender, cold
fingers passively.

296 Through One Administration.

" Good-bye ! " she said.

Mrs. Merriam was not mentioned. She was
forgotten. Arbutlmot had not thought once
of the possibility of her retum.

He dropped Agnes's hand, and simply
turned round and went out of the room.

His ten minutes were over ; it was all over.
This was his thought as he went up the stair-
case. He went into the deserted upper room
where he had left his overcoat. It was quite
empty, the servant in charge having con-
gratulated himself that his duties for the night
were over, and joined his fellows down stairs.
One overcoat, he had probably fancied, might
take care of itself, especially an overcoat
sufficiently familiär with the establishment to
outstay all the rest. The garment in question
hung over the back of a chair. Arbuthnot
took it up and put it on with unnecessary
haste ; then he took his hat ; then he stopped.
He sank into the chair and dropped his brow
upon his hand ; he was actually breathless.
He passed through a desperate moment as
he sat there; when it was over he rose,
deliberately freed himself from his coat again,
and went down stairs. When he re-entered
the parlour, Agnes rose hurriedly from the

A Parting. 297

sofa, leaving her handkercliief on the side-
cushion, on which there was a little indented
spot. She made a rapid step towards him,
her head held erect, her eyes at once
telling their own story, and commanding him
to disbelieve it ; her face so inexpressibly
sweet in its sadness that his heart leapt in
his side.

" You have left something ? " she said.

" Yes," he answered, " I left — you."

She sat down upon the sofa without a word.
He saw the large tears well up into her eyes,
and they helped him to go on as nothing eise
would have done.

'^I couldn't go away," he said. "There
was no use trying. I could not leave you in
that cold way, as if our parting were only an
ordinary, conventional one. There is nothing
conventional about my side of it. I am
helpless with misery. I have lost my last
shred of self-respect. I had to come back and
ask you to be a little kinder to me. I don't
think you know how cold you were. It was
like death to drop your hand and turn away
like that. Such a thing must be unendurable
to a man who loves a woman.''

He came nearer.

298 Through One Administration.

'' Beggars should be humble/' he said. " I
am humble enough. I only ask you to say
good-bye a little more kindly."

Her eyes were füll änd more beautiftd than
ever. She put out her band and touched the
sofa at her side.

" Will you sit here ? " she said.

" What ! " he eried, " I ? "

" Yes," she answered, scarcely aböve her
breath, **no one eise." He took the place,
and her slender band.

" I have no right to this," he said. " No
one knows that so well as I. I am doing a
tenible, daring thing."

" It is a daring thing for us both," she said.
" I have always been afraid — but it cost me
too much when you went out of the door."

"Did it?" he said, and folded her band
close against bis breast. " Oh ! " he whispered,
" I will be very tender to you."

She lifted her soft eyes.

" I think," she said, ** that is what I need."

CHAPTEE XIV.

ALONE.

The next six months Laurence Arbuthnot
spent in bis quiet corner of Gennany, devoting
all his leisure moments to the study of certain
legal terms to which he had given some atten-
tion at a previous time when, partly as a
whim, partly as the result of a spasm of
prudence, he had woven himself a Strand of
thread to cling to in the vague future by
taking a course of law. His plan now was
to strengthen this thread until it might be
depended upon, and he spared no determined
and persistent effort which might assist him
to the attainment of this object.

"I find myself an astonishingly resolute
person/' he wrote to Agnes. *'I am also
industrious. Kesolution and industry never
before Struck me as being qualities I might

300 Through One Administration.

lay claim to with any degree of justice. Dr.
Watts himself, with his entirely objectionable
bee, could not 'improve each shining liour'
with more vigour than I do, but — I have an
object, and the hours are shining. Once there
seemed no reason for them. It is not so now.
I will confess that I nsed to hate these things.
Do you repose suflScient confidence in me yet
to believe me when I teil you that I actually
feel a dawning interest in Blaekstone, and do
not shudder at the thought of the lectures I
shall attend in Paris. Perhaps I do not
refleet upon them with due deliberation and
coolness — I cannot help remembering that you
will be with me."

When he resigned his position and went to
Paris she was with him. He had made a
brief visit to Washington and taken her
away, leaving Mrs. Merriam to adom the
house in Lafayette Square, and keep its
hearth warm until such time as they should
return.

It was when they were in Paris that they
had the pleasure of meeting Mr. Eichard
Amory, who was very well known and ex-
ceedingly populär in the American colony.
He was in the most delightfully buoyant

Alone. 301

spirits ; he had been very fortunate ; a certain
investment of his had just turned out very
well, and brought him large returns. He was
quite willing to talk about it and himself,
and was enraptured at seeing his friends- • The
news of their marriage delighted him ; he
was enchanting in his warm interest in their
happiness. He seemed, however, to have only
pleasantly vague views on the subjeet of the
time of his probable return to America.

"There is no actual necessity for it," he
Said, "and I find the life here delightful.
Bertha and the children will probably join
me in the spring, and we may ramble about
for a year or so." And he evidently feit he
had no reason to doubt the truth of this
latter Statement. Bertha had been present at
her friend's marriage. She had been with
her almost constantly during the last days
preceding it. She found great pleasm^e in
Agnes's happiness. There had been no change
in her own mode of life. Janey and Jack
went out with her often, and when she was at
home spent the greater part of the time with
her. She helped them with their lessons
played with them, and made a hundred plans
for them. They found her more entertaining

302 Throügh One Administration.

than ever. Others found her no less enter-
taining. The old bright eircle closed about
her as before, and was even added to. Mr.
Amory had been called abroad by business,
and might retum at any moment. The Pro-
fessor was rarely absent from his daughter's
parlours when she ha'd her guests about her.
The people who had been interested in
the Westoria scheine disappeared or became
interested in something eise. Senator Plane-
field had made one call after Eichard's
departure, and then had called no more.
Bertha had seen him alone for a short time,
and before he took his leave, looking a trifle
more florid than usual, he had thrown into the
grate a bouquet of hot-house roses.

" D all this ! " he cried, savagely.

" What a failure it has been ! "

*' Yes," Said Bertha ; " it has been a
great failure."

Senator Blundel did not disappear. He
began to like the house again, and to miss
his occasional evening there, if anything
deprived him of it. He used to come and
talk politics with the Professor, and hear
Bertha sing his favourite ballads of senti-
ment. During the excitement preceding the

Alonk 303

presidential election the Professor found him
absorbingly interestlüg. The eontest was' a
close and heated one, and the usual national
disasters were prophesied as the inevitable
results of the final election of either candidate.
Bertha read her way industriously through
the campaign, and joined in their arguments
with a spirit which gave Blundel keen
delight. She read a great deal to her
father, and made herseif his companion,
finally finding that she was able to help
him with his work.

" I find great comfort in you, my child,"
he Said gently to her onee, when she had
been reading.

" Do you, dearest ? " she answered, and
she went to him, and, standing near him,
touched his grey hair with her cheek. " I
find great comfort in you," she said, in a
low voice. "We seem to belong to each
other as if — a little as if we had been left
together on a desert Island."

When she went away for the summer with
her children, the Professor went with her.
He had never wondered at and pondered
over her as he did in these days. Her
incomings and outgoings were as they had

304 Through One Administration.

always been. She shared the summer gaieties
and went her way with her world, but it
was but a short time before the kind old
eyes looldog on detected in her the lack of
all that had made her what she had been
in the past. They retumed to Washington
the day after the election of the new
President. Their first evening at home
was spent in reading the newspapers and
discussing the tennination of the campaign.

When Bertha rose to go to her room she
stood a moment looking at the fire, and there
was something in her face which attractcd
the Professor's attention.

" My dear," he said, " teil me what you
are thinking of."

She lifted her eyes and made an effort to
smile, but the smile died out and left her
face blank and cold.

" I am thinking of the last inaugural

ball," she said, " and of Larry — and Kichard

— and of how I danced and laughed — ^and

laughed — and that I shall never laugh so

ao'ain."
°" Bertha," he said, " my child ! "

" No," she said, " never, never — and I did

not mean to speak of it — only just for a

Alonb- 305

moment it all came back/' and slie went
quickly away without finishing.

After the election there came tlie usual
tcmporary lull, and the country settled itself
down to the peaceftil avocation of reading
stories of the new President's chüdhood, and
accounts of his daily receptions of interested
friends and advisers. The only reports of
excitement came from the Indian country,
where little disturbances were occurring which
caused anxiety among agents and frontiers-
men. Certain tribes were dissatisfied with
the arrangements made for them by the
Government, quarreis had taken place, and it
had become necessary to keep a strict watch
upon the movements of the turbulent tribes.
This State of aflfairs continued throughout
the winter ; the threatened outbreak was an
inestimable boon to the newspapers, but,
in spite of the continued threatenings, the
winter was tided over without any actual
catastrophes.

" But we shall have it," Colonel Tredennis
Said to his fellow-officers ; " I think we cannot
escape it."

He had been anxious for some time, and

VOL. ni. X

306 Through One Administration.

his anxiety increased as the weeks went by.
It was two days before the inaugural cere-
monies that the blow feil. The Colonel had
gone to his quarters rather early. A batch
of newspapers had come in with the eastern
mail, and he intended to spend his evening
in reading them. Among these there were
Washington papers, which contained descrip-
tions of the preparations made for the
ceremonies — of the triumphal arches and
processions, of the Stands erected on the
avenue, of the seats before the public build-
ings, of the arrangements for the ball. He
remembered the belated flags and pennants
of four years before, the strollers in the
streets, his own feelings as he had driven
past the decorations, and at last his words:

" I came in with the Administration ;
I wonder if I shall go out with it, and
what will have happened between now and
then."

He laid his paper down with a heavy sigh,
even though he had caught a glimpse of Miss
Jessup's letter on the first sheet. He could
not read any more ; he had had enough, The
bitter loneliness of the moment overpowered
him, and he bowed his face upon his arms.

Alone. 307

leaning upon the pile of papers and letters on
tlie table. He had made, even mentally, no
complaint in the last month. His hair had
grown grizzled and his youth had left him-^
only happiness could have brought it back,
and happiness was not for him. Every hour
of his life was filled with yearning sadness
for the suflfering another than himself might
be bearing; sometimes it became intolerable
anguish ; it was so to-night.

" I have no part to play," he thought ;
" every one is used to my grim face, but
she — poor chüd! — poor child! — they will
not let her rest. She has worn her smile
too well."

Once, during the first winter of his stay in
Washington, he had found among a number
of others a little picture of herseif, and had
asked her for it. It was a poor little thing,
€vidently lightly valued, but he had often
recalled her look and words as she gave it
to him.

" Nobody ever wanted it before," she had
Said. " They say it is too sad to be like me.
I do not mind that so much, I think. I had
rather a fancy for it. Yes, you may have it,
if you wish. I have been gay so long — let

X 2

308 Through One Administration.

me be sad for a little while, if it is only in
a picture."

He liad carried it with him ever since. He
had no other relic of her. He took it from
bis breast-pocket now, and looked at it with
aching eyes.

" So long ! " he said. " So long I " And
then again, " Poor child ! poor child ! *'

The next instant he sprang to bis feet.
There was a sound of burried feet, a loud
knocking at bis door, which was thrown open
violently. One of bis fellow officers stood
before him pale with excitement.

" Tredennis," he said, " the Indians have
attacked the next settlement. The devils
have gone mad. You are wanted "

Tredennis did not speak. He gave one
glance round the room with its blazing fire
and lonely, soldierly look ; then he put the
little picture into bis pocket and went out
into the night.

CHAPTER XV.

ANOTHBB ADMIKISTBATION.

In all her honest, hard-worked little life,
Miss Jessup had never done more honest,
hard work than she was called upon to do on
the day of the Inauguration. She had written
intö the small hours thß night before; she
had described bunting and arches, evergreens
and grand Stands, the visiting regiments, club
uniforms, bands, banners, torch-lights and
Speeches, and on the eventful day she was
up with the dawn, arranging in the most
practicable manner her plans for the day.
With letters containing a füll and dramatic
description of the ceremonies to be written
to four Western papers, and with extra work
upon the Washington weekly and daily, there
was po txme to be lost. Miss Jessup lost
none. Eaeh hour of the day was portioned

310 Through One Administration.

off — each minute, almost. Now she was to
take a glance at the procession from tlie steps
of the Treasury ; now she was to spend a few
moments in a balcony overlooking another
point ; she was to see the oath administered,
hear the President's address and form an
estimate of his appreciation of the solemnity
of the moment ; she was to take his tempera-
ture during the afternoon, and be ready to
greet him at the baU, and describe dresses,
unifonns, decorations, flags, and evergreens
again. Even as she took her hasty breakfast
she was jotting down appropriate items, and
had already begun an article, opening with
the sentence, " Karely has Washington wit-
nessed a more brilliant spectacle," &c.

It could scarcely be said that she missed
anything when she went her rounds later.
No familiär face escaped her ; she recognised
people at Windows, in carriages, on platforms.
Among others she caught a glimpse of Mrs.
Amory, who drove by on her way to the
Capitol with her father and Jack and Janey.

" She looks a Httle tired about the eyes,"
thought Miss Jessup. ** She has looked a little
that way all the season, though she keeps
going steadily enough. They work as hard

Another Administration. 311

as the rest of us in their way, these society
women. She will be at the ball to-night, I
dare say."

Bertha herself had wondered if she would
find herself there. Even as she drove past
Miss Jessup, she was thinking that it seemed
almost impossible ; but she had thought things
impossible often during the winter which had
gone by, and had found them come to pass
and leave her almost as before. Gradually,
however, people had begun to miss something
in her. There was no denying, they said,
that she had lost some of her vivacity and
spirit ; some tone had gone from her voiee ;
something of colour from her manner. Perhaps
she would get over it. Amory had not be-
haved well in the Westoria land aflfair, and
she naturally feit his absence and the shadow
under which he rested.

" Very gradually," she said to the Professor
onee, " I think I am retiring from the world.
I never was really very clever or pretty. I
don't hide it so well as I used to, and people
are finding me out. Often I am a little
dull, and it is not likely they will forgive
me that."

But she was not dull at home, or the

312 Thkough One Administration.

Professor never thought so. She was not
duU now, as she pointed out objects of interest
to Jack and Janey.

" I wish Uncle Philip were here ! " cried
Jack " He would have his sword on and be
in uniform, and he would look taller than all
the rest — taller than the President."

The day was very brilliant to the children ;
they were as indefatigable as Miss Jessup, and
missed as little as if they had been in search
of items. The blare of brazen instruments,
the tramp of soldiers, the rattle of arms, the
rushing crowds, the noise and colour and
excitement, filled them with rapture. When
they finally reached home they were wom out
with their delights. Bertha was not less
fetigued ; but, after the nursery was quiet andi
the children were asleep, she came down to
dine with the Professor.

" And we will go to the ball for an hour,"
she said. " We cannot submit to having it
described to us for the next two weeks by
people who were there."

The truth was, that she could not sit at
home and listen to the carriages rolling by,
and watch the dragging hours with such
memories as must fill them.

Another Administration. 313

So at half-past ten she stood in her room
putting the last touches to her toilet, and
shortly afterwards she was driving with the
Professor towards the scene of the night's
gaieties. She had seen the same scene on
each like occasion since her eighteenth year.
There was nothing new about it to-night;
there were some changes in dances and music,
but the same types of people crowded against
each other, looking on at the daucing, pointing
out the President, asking the old questions,
and making the old comments ; young people
whirled together in the centre of the ball-room,
and older ones watched them, with some slight
wonder at the interest they evinced in the
exercise. Bertha danced only a few quadrillee;
As she went through them she feit again what
she had feit on each such occasion since the
night of the ball of the last year-^— the music
seemed too loud, the people too vivacious, the
gaiety about her too tumultuous; though,
judged by ordinary Standards, there could have
been no complaint made against it.

But, notwithstanding this feeling, she lin-
gered longer than she had intended, trying to
hide from herseif her dread of retuming home.
No one but herseif knew — even the Professor

314 Through One Administration.

did not suspect, how empty the house seemed
to her, and how its loneliness grew and grew
until sometimes it overpowered her and became
a sort of deadly presence. Kichard's empty
rooms were a terror to her ; she never passed
their closed doors withont a shock.

At half-past twelve, however, she decided to
go home. She had just ended a dance with a
young attachS of one of the legations ; he was
a brilliantly hued and graceful young butterfly,
and danced and talked well. There had been
a time when she had liked to hear his sharp,
slightly satirical nonsence, and had enjoyed a
dance with him. She had listened to-night,
and had used her pretty smile al opportune
moments ; but she was glad to sit down again.

" Now," she Said to hira, " will you be so
good as to find my father for me, and teil him
I will go home ? "

" I will if I must," he answered. " But
otherwise "

"You will if you are amiable," she said.
" I blush to own that I am tired. I have
assisted in the inaugural ceremonies without
flinching from their first step until their last,
and I begin to feel that His Excellency is safe
and I may retire."

Another Administration. 315

He found her a quiet corner and went to do
her bidding. She was partly shielded by soine
tall plants, and was glad of the retreat they
afforded her. She sat and let her eyes rest
upon the moving crowd promenading the room
between the dances ; the music had ceased,
and she could catch snatches of conversation
as people passed her. Among the rest were a
pretty, sparkling-eyed girl and a young anny
officer who attracted her. She watched them
on their way round the cifcle twice, and they
were just nearing her for the second time
when her attention was drawn from them by
the sound of voices near her.

" Indian outbreak," she heard. ** Tredennis !
News just came in."

She rose from her seat. The Speakers were
on the other side of the plants. One of them
was little Miss Jessup, the other a stranger, and
Miss Jessup was pale with agitation and pro-
fessional interest, and her note-book trembled
in her little birdJike band.

" Colonel Tredennis 1 " she said. *' Oh ! I
knew him. I liked him — every one did — every
one I What are the particulars ? Are they really
authenticated ? Oh, what a terrible thing ! "

** We know very few particulars," was the

316 Through One Administration.

answer, " but those we know are only too well
authenticated. We shall hear more later. The
Indians attacked a small Settlements and a
party went from the fort to the rescue, Colonel
Tredennis commanded it. The Indians were
apparently beaten oflf, but retumed. A little
child häd been left in a house, through some
misunderstanding, and Tredennis heard it
crying as the Indians made their second
attack, and went after it. He was shot as he
brought it out in his arms."

Little Miss Jessup burst into tears and
dropped her note-book.

" Oh ! " she eried. " He was a good, brave
man ! He was a good man I ''

The band Struck up a waltz. The prome-
nading stopped ; a score or two of couples took
their place upon the floor, and began to whirl
swiftly past the spot where Bertha stood ; the
music seemed to grow faster and faster, and
louder, and still more loud.

Bertha stood still.

She had not moved when the Professor
came to her. He himself wore a sad, grief-
stricken face ; he had heard the news too ;
it had not taken it long to travel round the
room.

Another Administration. 317

" Take me home," slie said to him. ** Philip
is dead ! Philip has been kiUed ! "

He took her away as quickly as he could
through the whirüng crowd of dancers, past
the people who crowded, and laughed, and
listened to the music of the band.

" Keep close to me ! " she said. " Do not
let them see my face ! "

When they were shut up in the camage
together, she sat shuddering for a moment, he
shuddering, also, at the sight of the face he
had hidden ; then she trembled into his arms,
clung to his Shoulder, cowered down and hid
herseif upon his knee, slipped down kneeling
lipon the floor of the camage, and clung to
him with both her arms.

"I never told you that I was a wicked
woman," she said. " I will teil you now ;
always— always I have tried to hide that it
was Phüip— PhUip !— "

" Poor child ! " he said " Poor, unhappy —
most unhappy child ! " All the strength of
her body seemed to have gone in the wild
clasp of her slender arms.

" I have suflferedj" she said. " I have been
broken, I have been crushed. I knew that I
should never see him again, but he was alive.

318 Theough One Administration.

Do you think that I shall some day have been
punished enough ? "

He clasped her close to liis breast, and laid
his grey head upon her brown one, shedding
bitter tears.

" We do not know that this is punishment,"
he Said.

"No," she answered. "We do not know.
Take me home to my little children. Let
me stay with them. I will try to be a good
mother — I will try "

She lay in his arms until the carriage
stopped. Then they got out and went into
the house. When they closed the door behind
them and stood in the hall together, the deadly
silence smote them both. They did not speak
to eaeh other. The Professor supported her
with his arm as they went slowly np the
stairs. He had extinguished the light below
before they came up. All the honse seemed
dark but for a glow of fire-light Coming
through an open door on the first landing, It
was the door Philip Tredennis had seen open
that first night when he had looked in and
had seen Bertha sitting in her nursery-chair
with her child on her breast.

There they both stopped. Before the

Another Administbation. 319

Professor's eyes there rose, with stränge and
terrible cleamess, the vision of a girl's bright
fa^e looking backwards at him from the night,
the light Streaming upon it as it smiled above
a Cluster of white roses. And it was this that
remained before him when, a moment after-
wards, Bertha went into the room and closed
the door.

THE END.

LOKDON : B. OLAY, SONS, AND TAT LOB, PR1NTZR8.