"Do all Southerners make such delicious coffee?" asked Senator
Burleigh, as the four sat about the attractive table in the
breakfast-room.
"The Southerners are the only cooks in the United States," announced
Miss Carter. "The real difference between the South and the North is
that one enjoys itself getting dyspepsia and the other does not."
"There are just six kinds of hot bread on this table," said Burleigh,
meditatively.
"And no pie and no doughnuts. Mr. Montgomery, you are really a
Southerner--ar'n't you glad to get back to darky cooks?"
"I was until we began on this tariff bill, and now there is not an
object you can mention, edible or otherwise, that I don't loathe."
"The details of such a bill must be maddening," said Betty,
sympathetically, "but, after all, it is an honour to be on the Ways and
Means Committee. There is compensation in everything."
"I don't know. When a man lobbyist tries to find out your weak spot and
play on it, you can kick him out of the house, but when they set a
woman at you, all you can do is to bow and say: 'My dear madam, it is
with the greatest regret I am obliged to inform you that I have sat up
every night until three o'clock studying this subject, and that I have
made up my mind.' Whereupon she talks straight ahead and hints at
trouble with certain constituents next year who want free coal and an
exorbitant duty on Zante currants, raisins, wine, and wool. The whole
army of lobbyists have camped on my doorstep ever since we began to
draw up this bill. How they find time to camp on any one's else would
make an interesting study in ubiquity."
"I am afraid some of your ideals have been shattered, and I am afraid
you are shattering some of Miss Madison's," said Burleigh, smiling into
Betty's disgusted face.
"I hate the dirty work of politics," said Montgomery, gloomily. "Of
course it doesn't demoralize you so long as you keep your own hands
clean, but it is sickening to suspect that you are sitting cheek by
jowl in the Committee Room with a man whose pocket is stuffed with some
Trust Company's shares."
"I used to hate it, but I don't see any remedy until we have an
educated generation of high-class politicians, and I think that
millennium is not far off. As matters stand, there is bound to be a
certain percentage of scoundrels and of men too weak to resist a bribe
in a great and shifting body like the House. Any scoundrel feels that
he can slink among the rest unseen. The old members who have been
returned term after term since they began to grow stubby beards on
their cast-iron chins are an argument against rotation; they have had a
chance to acquire the confidence of the public, they are experienced
legislators, and they are incorruptible."
Betty drew a long sigh of relief. "You have cleared up the atmosphere a
little," she said. "I thought I was going to learn that the House, at
least, was one hideous mass of corruption, praying for burial."
"That is what they think of us outside," said Montgomery. "We might as
well all be gangrene, for we get the credit of it."
"I don't like your similes," said Miss Carter; "I haven't finished my
breakfast. Mr. Burleigh, you've put on your senatorial manner and I
like you better without it. I thought you were going to say, 'Don't
interrupt, please,' or 'Would you kindly be quiet until I finish?' at
least twice."
"I beg pardon humbly. I am flattered to know that you have thought it
worth while to listen to any remarks I may have been forced to make in
the Senate."
"I have been twice to the gallery with Betty, and both times you were
talking like a steam-engine and warning people off the track."
It was so apt a description of Burleigh's style when on his feet that
even he laughed.
"I don't like to be interrupted or contradicted," he said, "I frankly
admit it."
"Better not marry an American girl."
"Some Englishwomen have wills of their own," remarked Mr. Montgomery.
"Some men are tyrants in public life and slaves at home--to a beautiful
woman," remarked Senator Burleigh.
"Some men are so clever," said Miss Carter. "Give me another waffle,
please."