As soon as Wallace had closed the door, Fanny leaped into Guy’s arms.
“Oh, you were perfect!” she cried. “I’m glad you didn’t do as we
practised, after all.”
Guy kissed her rapturously. “Oh, Fan, I hope you won’t get sick of me!”
he said.
The telephone rang, and Fanny had to postpone her reply. “There, go and
attend to business,” she said, giving Guy a push. She watched him as he
held the receiver at his ear.
“Hello! Yes. Oh, Farley. What? Mr. Briggs is still downstairs. 500?
Well, that looks bad, doesn’t it? Do you mean to say they think he’s--?
Oh, impossible!”
“What’s impossible?” Fanny cried.
Guy listened intently, ignoring her. “No. I think you’d better come
here. He’ll want you. I’ll tell him.”
“Tell him what?” said Fanny.
“Good-bye.” Guy rang off.
“Why don’t you answer me? Tell him what?” Fanny heard footsteps in the
hall.
“Well, my dear,” said Douglas Briggs, opening the door, “I feel a good
deal better.”
Fanny held her finger at her lips. “’Sh! Guy has something to tell.”
Briggs observed that Guy was waiting for a chance to speak. “News?” he
asked, nervously.
Guy nodded. “They say down at the Citizens’ Club that things are
looking rather bad.”
Briggs looked steadily at the boy. “Who told you?”
“Farley,” Guy replied.
“Ah!” Briggs sank into a chair. “If Farley is losing courage--! Well,
never mind.”
“But you aren’t beaten yet, Uncle Doug,” Fanny exclaimed, resolutely.
“What difference does it make--now or two years from now? It’s only a
question of time.”
Michael tapped on the door and entered with the soft step of one
bearing important news. “A boy just come in with this telegram, sir.”
“Open it, Guy,” said Briggs.
Guy tore the envelope. “These are the figures Farley gave me,” he
said. He passed the telegram to Briggs.
“It’s all up with me!” said Briggs, just as Helen appeared.
“But they haven’t heard yet from the Nineteenth District,” Guy
interposed. “We can count on a two-hundred majority there.”
“No; West has spent more money there than anywhere else. I shall be
surprised if--” Briggs stopped at the sound of the telephone bell. Guy
darted for the receiver.
“Oh, hello, hello! Is that you, Farley? What? Oh, Bradley. This isn’t
the Citizens’ Club, then? Oh, the _Gazette_! No, Farley isn’t
here, but he’ll be here in a minute. He’s tearing over from the club in
a cab. What district? The Nineteenth? We’ve been waiting for that. How
many?”
Guy listened; they all listened. “Well, good-bye. Thank you. Good-bye.
I’ll tell him.” Guy turned from the telephone and faced the others.
“For goodness’ sake, speak!” cried Fanny.
Guy’s mouth twitched. “I guess it’s all over, Mr. Briggs.”
“How much majority in the Nineteenth?” Briggs asked.
“Over three hundred against us.”
Briggs drew a long breath. “I’m snowed under, buried! This is the last
of me! Oh, well!”
Fanny burst out crying. “I think it’s a shame, and the awful things
you see in Washington who go to Congress year after year, till they’re
ready to drop!” She started to leave the room. Guy started in pursuit
with the hope of comforting her. At the door she met Farley, entering.
“Hello, what’s the matter, Miss Fanny?” he asked.
“Oh, go and find out!” cried Fanny, dashing into the hall and up the
stairs, leaving Guy disconsolate in the hall.
“Come in, Farley,” said Briggs.
“You’ve heard the news, then?” Farley asked.
“Yes.”
“They told me just as I was getting into the cab.” Farley smiled at
Helen. “Well, we made a good fight, Mrs. Briggs. Too bad all our work
was thrown away!”
“It wasn’t, Farley. That is, yours wasn’t,” said Briggs. “And before
you and my wife, I can say what I shouldn’t dare to say to anyone else.
I’m glad I’m beaten. I’m glad to be out of it. Of course, I am out of
it now for good. After such a crushing defeat and with my record, I can
never get back.” He saw that Farley was about to protest. “Oh, don’t,
Farley! Even if I could I don’t want to. I feel as if all my energy and
ambition were gone.”
“They’ll come back after you’ve got rested,” Farley remarked. “You’re
only tired out. You’ve been working on your nerves for weeks. Now I’m
going to say good-night.” He offered his hand to Helen. “Good-night,
Mrs. Briggs.”
“Good-night,” said Helen.
Farley stepped back to let Michael speak to Briggs.
“There’s a gentleman in the reception room, sir, that wants to see you.
He says he comes from the _Chronicle_.”
Douglas Briggs looked at the card. His lip curled. “From the
_Chronicle_?” he said, contemptuously. “Well, we mustn’t refuse
the _Chronicle_. I suppose he’s come to see how I’ve taken my
defeat.” He rose, adjusted his frock coat and threw back his shoulders.
“You stay here, Farley, till I come back,” he said.
“All right.” Michael followed Briggs from the room, leaving Farley and
Helen together.
“Mr. Briggs will be all right after he’s had a rest from the strain,”
said Farley.
“I hope so,” Helen sighed. “It’s a relief that it’s over--such a
relief.”
“And of course,” Farley went on, “Mr. Briggs will change his mind about
going out of politics.”
“Do you think so?” Helen betrayed surprise in her tone.
“We need men like him in Washington.”
Helen did not speak. She held her head down.
“Mrs. Briggs!”
Helen kept her face hidden.
“I hope you’ll pardon me if I speak of something--something that
is--well, that concerns you very closely. I do it only because I
believe in Mr. Briggs, and because I care for his future and for his
happiness, and for yours, if you’ll let me say so.”
“Thank you, Mr. Farley,” said Helen, softly. “You’ve been very good to
Douglas. He has often spoken of all you’ve done.”
“Oh, that’s nothing. But--he has told me all about that man West.”
Helen looked up, startled.
“He hasn’t spared himself. He has even made the case out worse than it
is.”
“He has told you?” Helen repeated.
Farley nodded.
“Of his own accord?”
“Yes.”
“And you still--? You----?”
“Yes, I believe in him. I believe he has been punished for whatever
wrong he has done. And I can’t see why a man’s whole future should be
spoiled because he has made a mistake at the start. There are plenty of
men in public life who have made mistakes like his--men who were young
and inexperienced. Some of them have since done fine work.”
“Why have you spoken to me about this, Mr. Farley?”
“Because--well, because I know--that is, I suspect, from what Mr.
Briggs has said, that you’re not in sympathy with his public life.”
“That is true. I haven’t been, lately.”
“And I thought perhaps if you looked at things a little differently----”
“I shouldn’t be so harsh?” Helen interrupted, her face flushing. “That
is what you mean, Mr. Farley, isn’t it?”
“No, not that,” Farley replied, growing more embarrassed. “I thought
perhaps you’d help him to get back where he belongs, that’s all. It’s
going to be a hard fight. Most men wouldn’t have the nerve to make it.
But he has, if you’ll help him.”
Helen’s eyes filled with tears. “You make me ashamed, Mr. Farley. If
you can forgive him, after all you’ve done for him----”
Farley laughed. “Oh, I haven’t done half so much as you think, Mrs.
Briggs. I’ll feel repaid if you’ll only make him see that he ought
to stay in the fight.” He heard steps in the hall and Briggs’s voice
speaking to the reporter. A few moments later, Briggs entered, looking
more cheerful.
“Well, it wasn’t half so bad as I thought. Nice fellow. One of those
young college men. He was so ashamed of his assignment I had hard work
to put him at his ease.”
Farley offered his hand.
“Now I must be off, Mrs. Briggs.”
“Come in to-morrow, Farley,” said Briggs. “I want to have a talk with
you.”