When Sally had gone, after an hour of consultation on the various
phases of the dinner, Betty sat for some moments striving to call up
something from the depths of her brain, something that had smitten it
disagreeably as it fell, but sunk too quickly, under a torrent of
words, to be analyzed at the moment. It had made an extremely
unpleasant impression;--painful perhaps would be a better word.
In the course of ten minutes she found the sentence which had made the
impression: "Mrs. North is wonderfully improved, by the way; has not
been so well in twenty years."
The words seemed to hang themselves up in a row in her mind; they
turned scarlet and rattled loudly. Betty made no attempt to veil her
mental vision; she stared hard at the words and at the impression they
had produced. Mrs. North was out of danger, and the fact was a bitter
disappointment to her. In spite of the resolute expulsion of the very
shadow of Mrs. North from her thought, her sub-consciousness had
conceived and brought forth and nurtured hope. What had made her
content to drift, what had made her look with an almost philosophical
eye on the future, was the unadmitted certainty that in the natural
course of events a woman with a shattered constitution must go her way
and leave her husband free. Had he thought of this? He must have, she
concluded. She was beginning to look facts squarely in the face; it was
an old habit with him, older than herself. There never was a more
practical brain.
For the first time in her life she almost hated herself. She had done
and felt many things which she sincerely regretted, but this seemed
incomparably the worst. And despite her protest, her bitter
self-contempt, the sting of disappointment remained; she could not
extract it.
She went out and walked several miles, as she always did when nervous
and troubled. She came to the conclusion that she was glad to have
heard this news to-day. She and Senator North were to meet in the
evening for the first time in five months. She had looked forward to
this meeting with such a mingling of delight and terror that several
times she had been on the point of sending him word not to come. But
the impression Sally's information had made had hardened her. She was
so disappointed in herself, so humiliated to find that a mortal may
fancy himself treading the upper altitudes, only to discover that the
baser forces in the brain are working independently of the will, that
she felt in anything but a melting mood. She knew that this mood would
pass; she had watched the workings of the brain, its abrupt transitions
and its reactions, too long to hope that she suddenly had acquired
great and enduring strength. The future had not expelled one jot of its
dangers, perhaps had supplemented them, but for the hour she not only
was safe from herself, but the necessity to turn him from her door had
receded one step.
She had intended to receive him in the large and formal environment of
the parlor, but in her present mood the boudoir was safe, and she was
glad not to disappoint him; she knew that he loved the room. And if her
brain had sobered, her femininity would endure unaltered for ever. She
wore a charming new gown of white crepe de chine flowing over a blue
petticoat, and a twist of blue in her hair. She had written to him from
New York when to call, and he had sent a large box of lilies of the
valley to greet her. She had arranged them in a bowl, and wore only a
spray at her throat. Women with beautiful figures seldom care for the
erratic lines and curves of the floral decoration. She heard him coming
down the corridor and caught her breath, but that was all. She did not
tremble nor change colour.
When he came in, he took both her hands and looked at her steadily for
a moment. They made no attempt at formal greeting, and there was no
need of subterfuge of any sort between them. No two mortals ever
understood each other better.
"I see the change in you," he said. "I expected it. You have given me a
great deal, and your last survival of childhood was not the least. The
serious element has developed itself, and you look the embodiment of an
Ideal." He dropped her hands and walked to the end of the room. When he
returned and threw himself into a chair, she knew that his face had
changed, then been ordered under control.
"What shall I talk to you about?" he asked with an almost nervous
laugh. "Politics? Comparatively little happened in the Senate before
the holidays. The President's message was of peculiar interest to me,
inasmuch as it indicated that he is approaching Spain in the right way
and will succeed in both relieving the Cubans and averting war if the
fire-eaters will let him alone. The Cubans probably will not listen to
the offer of autonomy, for it comes several years too late and their
confidence in Spain has gone forever; but I am hoping that while this
country is waiting to see the result, it will come to its senses. The
pressure upon us has been intolerable. Both Houses have been flooded
with petitions and memorials by the thousands: from Legislatures,
Chambers of Commerce, Societies, Churches, from associations of every
sort, and from perhaps a million citizens. The Capitol looks like a
paper factory. If autonomy fails soon enough, or if some new chapter of
horrors can be concocted by the Yellow Press, or if the unforeseen
happens, war will come. The average Congressman and even Senator does
not resist the determined pressure of his constituents, and to do them
justice they have talked themselves into believing that they are as
excited as the idle minds at home who are feeling dramatic and calling
it sympathy. And the average mind hates to be on the unpopular side.
"Forgive me if I am bitter," he said, standing up suddenly and looking
down on her with a smile, "but a good many of us are, just now. We
can't help it. A great and just war would be met unflinchingly and with
all pride; but the prospect of this hysterical row between a bull pup
and a senile terrier fills us with impatience and disgust. The
President must feel that he is expiating all the sins of the human
race. The only man in the United States to be envied, so far, is the
Speaker of the House; it is almost a satisfaction to think that he
looks like the monument he is; and for the time being his importance
overshadows the President's. If the President can hold on, however, he
will negotiate Spain out of this hemisphere in less than a year."
"I knew you were worried about it," she said softly. "I felt that so
keenly that I never lost an opportunity to war against the war. I made
enemies right and left, and acquired a reputation for heartlessness."
"Our minds are much alike," he said, staring down at her and dropping
his voice for a moment. "You may have done it for me, but you are as
sincere as I am. I have stimulated your mind, that is all. How much you
can do here in Washington--among the men who legislate--I cannot say. A
woman who takes a high and definite stand is always an influence for
good; but the women who influence men's votes are not of your type.
They are women who sacrifice anything to gain their ends, or those who
have educated themselves to play upon the vanity and other petty
qualities of men; every peg in their brain is hung with a political
trick. The only men who attract you are too strong to vote under the
influence of any woman, even if they loved her. If Shattuc were not as
obstinate as a mule," he added more lightly, "I should ask you to
convert him to the principles of sound currency. That is another ugly
cloud ahead: there is going to be an attempt made to pass through both
Houses a concurrent resolution advocating the free and unlimited
coinage of silver and to pay the public debt with it. As far as our
honour goes, the passing of such a resolution would affect us as deeply
as if it were to become a law. We should stand before the world as
willing and ready to violate the national honour, ignore our pledges
and recklessly impair our credit. I don't think the resolution will
pass the House, the Republican majority is too strong there, but I am
afraid it will pass the Senate; although we are in the majority, a good
many Republicans are Western men and Silverites. A certain number on
both sides of the Chamber are voting merely to please their
constituents, feeling reasonably sure that the resolution will fail in
the House. They appear to care little for the honour of the Senate;
they certainly have not the backbone to defy their constituents if they
do care for it. To the outside world the Senate is a unit; every
resolution that passes it might come out of one gigantic skull at peace
with itself. This one will be passed by a small majority who have not
imagination enough to read the works of future historians, nor even to
grasp public opinion as unexpressed by their constituents.
"There is one fact that the second-rate politician never grasps," he
said, walking impatiently up and down; Betty had never seen him so
restless. "That is, that the true American respects convictions; no
matter how many fads he may conceive nor how loud he may clamour for
their indulgence, when his mind begins to balance methodically again,
he respects the man who told him he was wrong and imperilled his own
re-election rather than vote against his convictions. Many a Senator
has lost re-election through yielding to pressure, for elections do not
always occur at the height of a popular agitation; and when men have
had time to cool off and think, they despise and distrust the waverer.
If you will read the biographies in the Congressional Directory, you
will see that with a very few exceptions the New Englanders are the
only men who come back here--to both Houses--term after term. They
practically are here for life; and the reason is that they belong to
the same hard-headed, clear-thinking, unyielding, and puritanically
upright race as the men who elect them to office. They have their
faults, but they represent the iron backbone of this country, and in
spite of fads and aberrations, and gales in general on the political
sea, they will remain the prevailing influence. If I speak seldom in
the Senate, I certainly make a good many speeches to you. But I want
you to understand all I can teach you and to do what you can."
"Yes," she said, rising abruptly, "I want an object in life, a vital
interest. I need it! A year ago I took up politics out of curiosity and
ennui; to-day they represent a safeguard as well as a necessity. I
cannot write books nor paint pictures; charities bore me and I never
shall marry. My heart must go to the wall, and my brain is very active.
The more one studies and observes politics the more absorbing they
become. But that is only a part of it. I want to be of some use to the
country, to accomplish something for the public good; and it will be a
form of happiness to think that I am working with you--for I certainly
agree with you in all things, whatever the cause. When the time comes
that we meet in public only, I can have that much happiness at least;
and I always shall know where I can help you--"
"The mere fact that you are alive is help enough--and torment enough. I
shall go now. We have gotten through this first meeting better than I
had hoped."
They both laughed a little as they shook hands, for politics had
cleared the air.