Miss Luella Bailey was not elected. The unenlightened prejudice of man
to prefer one of his own sex, combined with the hostility of the Reform
Club, procured her defeat, notwithstanding that the rest of her ticket
triumphed at the polls. There was some consolation for her friends in
the fact that her rival, Miss Snow, had a considerably smaller number of
votes than she. Selma solaced herself by the reflection that, as she had
been consulted only at the twelfth hour, she was not responsible for the
result, but she felt nerved by the defeat to concentrate her energies
against the proposed bill for an appointed school board.
Her immediate attention and sympathy were suddenly invoked by the
illness of Mr. Parsons, who had seemed lacking in physical vigor for
some weeks, and whose symptoms culminated in a slight paralysis, which
confined him to his bed for a month, and to his house during the
remainder of the autumn. Selma rejoiced in this opportunity to develop
her capacities as a nurse, to prove how adequate she would have been to
take complete charge of her late husband, had Dr. Page chosen to trust
her. She administered with scrupulous regularity to the invalid such
medicines as were ordered, and kept him cheerful by reading and
conversation, so that the physician in charge complimented her on her
proficiency. Trained nurses were unknown in Benham at this time, and any
old or unoccupied female was regarded as qualified to watch over the
sick. Selma appreciated from what she had observed of the conduct of
Wilbur's nurse that there was a wrong and a right way of doing things,
but she blamed Dr. Page for his failure to appreciate instinctively that
she was sure to do things suitably. It seemed to her that he had lacked
the intuitive gift to discern latent capabilities--a fault of which the
Benham practitioner proved blameless.
From the large, sunny chamber in which Mr. Parsons slowly recovered some
portion of his vitality, Selma could discern the distant beginnings of
Wetmore College, pleasantly situated on an elevation well beyond the
city limits on the further side of the winding river. An architect had
been engaged to carry out Wilbur's plans, and she watched the outlines
of the new building gradually take shape during the convalescence of her
benefactor. She recognized that the college would be theoretically a
noble addition to the standing of Benham as a city of intellectual and
æsthetic interests, but it provoked her to think that its management was
in the hands of Mrs. Hallett Taylor and her friends, between whom and
herself she felt that a chasm of irreconcilable differences of opinion
existed. Mrs. Taylor had not called on her since her return. She
believed that she was glad of this, and hoped that some of the severely
indignant criticism which she had uttered in regard to the Reform Club
movement had reached her ears. Or was Mrs. Taylor envious of her return
to Benham as the true mistress of this fine establishment on the River
Drive, so superior to her own? Nevertheless, it would have suited Selma
to have been one of the trustees of this new college--her husband's
handiwork in the doing of which he had laid down his promising life--and
the fact that no one had sought her out and offered her the honor as a
fitting recognition of her due was secretly mortifying. The Benham
Institute had been prompt to acknowledge her presence by giving a
reception in her honor, at which she was able to recite once more, "Oh,
why should the Spirit of Mortal be proud?" with old-time success, and
she had been informed by Mrs. Earle that she was likely to be chosen one
of the Vice-Presidents at the annual meeting. But these Reform Club
people had not even done her the courtesy to ask her to join them or
consider their opinions. She would have spurned the invitation with
contempt, but it piqued her not to know more about them; it distressed
her to think that there should exist in Benham an exclusive set which
professed to be ethically and intellectually superior and did not
include her, for she had come to Benham with the intention of leading
such a movement, to the detriment of fashion and frivolity. With Mr.
Parsons's money at her back, she was serenely confident that the houses
of the magnates of Benham--the people who corresponded in her mind's eye
to the dwellers on Fifth Avenue--would open to her. Already there had
been flattering indications that she would be able to command attention
there. She had expected to find this so; her heart would have been
broken to find it otherwise. Still, her hope in shaking the dust of New
York from her feet had been to find in Benham an equally admirable and
satisfactory atmosphere in regard to mental and moral progress. She had
come just in time, it is true, to utter her vehement protest against
this exclusive, aristocratic movement--this arrogant affectation of
superiority, and to array herself in battle line against it, resolved to
give herself up with enthusiasm to its annihilation. Yet the sight of
the college buildings for the higher education of women, rising without
her furtherance and supervision, and under the direction of these
people, made her sad and gave her a feeling of disappointment. Why had
they been permitted to obtain this foothold? Someone had been lacking in
vigilance and foresight. Thank heaven, with her return and a strong,
popular spirit like Mr. Lyons in the lead, these unsympathetic,
so-called reformers would speedily be confounded, and the intellectual
air of Benham restored to its original purity.
One afternoon while Selma's gaze happened to be directed toward the
embryo college walls, and she was incubating on the situation, Mr.
Parsons, who had seemed to be dozing, suddenly said:
"I should like you to write to Mr. Lyons, the lawyer, and ask him to
come to see me."
"I will write to-night. You know he called while you were ill."
"Yes, I thought him a clever fellow when we met two or three times on
railroad matters, and I gather from what you told me about his speech at
the political meeting that he's a rising man hereabouts. I'm going to
make my will, and I need him to put it into proper shape."
"I'm sure he'd do it correctly."
"There's not much for him to do except to make sure that the language is
legal, for I've thought it all out while I've been lying here during
these weeks. Still, it's important to have in a lawyer to fix it so the
people whom I don't intend to get my money shan't be able to make out
that I'm not in my right mind. I guess," he added, with a laugh, "that
the doctor will allow I've my wits sufficiently for that?"
"Surely. You are practically well now."
Mr. Parsons was silent for a moment. He prided himself on being
close-mouthed about his private affairs until they were ripe for
utterance. His intention had been to defer until after the interview
with his lawyer any statement of his purpose, but it suddenly occurred
to him that it would please him to unbosom his secret to his companion
because he felt sure in advance that she would sympathize fully with his
plans. He had meant to tell her when the instrument was signed. Why not
now?
"Selma," he said, "I've known ever since my wife and daughter died that
I ought to make a will, but I kept putting it off until it has almost
happened that everything I've got went to my next of kin--folk I'm fond
of, too, and mean to remember--but not fond enough for that. If I give
them fifty thousand dollars apiece--the three of them--I shall rest easy
in my grave, even if they think they ought to have had a bigger slice.
It's hard on a man who has worked all his days, and laid up close to a
million of dollars, not to have a son or a daughter, flesh of my flesh,
to leave it to; a boy or a girl given at the start the education I
didn't get, and who, by the help of my money, might make me proud, if I
could look on, of my name or my blood. It wasn't to be, and I must grin
and bear it, and do the next best thing. I caught a glimpse of what that
thing was soon after I lost my wife and daughter, and it was the thought
of that more than anything which kept me from going crazy with despair.
I'm a plain man, an uneducated man, but the fortune I've made has been
made honestly, and I'm going to spend it for the good of the American
people--to contribute my mite toward helping the cause of truth and good
citizenship and free and independent ideas which this nation calls for.
I'm going to give my money for benevolent uses."
"Oh, Mr. Parsons," exclaimed Selma, clasping her hands, "how splendid!
how glorious! How I envy you. It was what I hoped."
"I knew you would be pleased. I've had half a mind once or twice to let
the cat out of the bag, because I guessed it would be the sort of thing
that would take your fancy; but somehow I've kept mum, for fear I might
be taken before I'd been able to make a will. And then, too, I've been
of several minds as to the form of my gift. I thought it would suit me
best of all to found a college, and I was disappointed when I learned
that neighbor Flagg had got the start of me with his seminary for women
across the river. I wasn't happy over it until one night, just after the
doctor had gone, the thought came to me, 'Why, not give a hospital?' And
that's what it's to be. Five hundred thousand dollars for a free
hospital in the City of Benham, in memory of my wife and daughter.
That'll be useful, won't it? That'll help the people as much as a
college? And, Selma," he added, cutting off the assuring answer which
trembled on her tongue and blazed from her eyes, "I shan't forget you.
After I'm gone you are to have twenty thousand dollars. That'll enable
you, in case you don't marry, to keep a roof over your head without
working too hard."
"Thank you. You are very generous," she said. The announcement was
pleasant to her, but at the moment it seemed of secondary importance.
Her enthusiasm had been aroused by the fact and character of his public
donation, and already her brain was dancing with the thought of the
prospect of a rival vital institution in connection with which her views
and her talents would in all probability be consulted and allowed to
exercise themselves. Her's, and not Mrs. Taylor's, or any of that
censorious and restricting set. In that hospital, at least, ambition and
originality would be allowed to show what they could do unfettered by
envy or paralyzed by conservatism. "But I can't think of anything now,
Mr. Parsons, except the grand secret you have confided to me. A
hospital! It is an ideal gift. It will show the world what noble uses
our rich, earnest-minded men make of their money, and it will give our
doctors and our people a chance to demonstrate what a free hospital
ought to be. Oh, I congratulate you. I will write to Mr. Lyons at once."
A note in prompt response stated the hour when the lawyer would call. On
his arrival he was shown immediately to Mr. Parsons's apartments, with
whom he was closeted alone. Selma managed to cross the hall at the
moment he was descending, and he was easily persuaded to linger and to
follow her into the library.
"I was anxious to say a few words to you, Mr. Lyons," she said. "I know
the purpose for which Mr. Parsons sent for you. He has confided to me
concerning his will--told me everything. It is a noble disposition of
his property. A free hospital for Benham is an ideal selection, and one
envies him his opportunity."
"Yes. It is a superb and generous benefaction."
"I lay awake for hours last night thinking about it; thinking
particularly of the special point I am desirous to consult you in regard
to. I don't wish to appear officious, or to say anything I shouldn't,
but knowing from what I heard you state in your speech the other day
that you feel as I do in regard to such matters, I take the liberty of
suggesting that it seems to me of very great importance that the
management of this magnificent gift should be in proper hands. May I ask
you without impropriety if you will protect Mr. Parsons so that captious
or unenthusiastic persons, men or women, will be unable to control the
policy of his hospital? He would wish it so, I am sure. I thought of
mentioning the matter to him myself, but I was afraid lest it might
worry him and spoil the satisfaction of his generosity or retard his
cure. Is what I ask possible? Do I make myself clear?"
"Perfectly--perfectly. A valuable suggestion," he said. "I am glad that
you have spoken--very glad. Alive as I am to the importance of
protecting ourselves at all points, I might not have realized this
particular danger had you not called it to my attention. Perhaps only a
clever woman would have thought of it."
"Oh, thank you. I felt that I could not keep silence, and run the risk
of what might happen."
"Precisely. I think I can relieve your mind by telling you--which under
the circumstances is no breach of professional secrecy, for it is plain
that the testator desires you to know his purpose--that Mr. Parsons has
done me the honor to request me to act as the executor of his will. As
such I shall be in a position to make sure that those to whom the
management of his hospital is intrusted are people in whom you and I
would have confidence."
"Ah! That is very satisfactory. It makes everything as it should be, and
I am immensely relieved."
"Now that you have spoken," he added, meeting her eager gaze with a
propitiating look of reflective wisdom, "I will consider the
advisability of taking the further precaution of advising the testator
to name in his will the persons who shall act as the trustees of his
charity. That would clinch the matter. The selection of the individuals
would necessarily lie with Mr. Parsons, but it would seem eminently
natural and fitting that he should name you to represent your sex on
such a board. I hope it would be agreeable to you to serve?"
Selma flushed. "It would be a position which I should prize immensely.
Such a possibility had not occurred to me, though I felt that some
definite provision should be made. The responsibility would be congenial
to me and very much in my line."
"Assuredly. If you will permit me to say so, you are just the woman for
the place. We have met only a few times, Mrs. Littleton, but I am a man
who forms my conclusions of people rapidly, and it is obvious to me that
you are thoughtful, energetic, and liberal-minded--qualities which are
especially requisite for intelligent progress in semi-public work. It is
essentially desirable to enlist the co-operation of well-equipped women
to promote the national weal."
Lyons departed with an agreeable impression that he had been talking to
a woman who combined mental sagacity and enterprise with considerable
fascination of person. This capable companion of Mr. Parsons was no
coquettish or simpering beauty, no mere devotee of fashionable manners,
but a mature, well-poised character endowed with ripe intellectual and
bodily graces. Their interview suggested that she possessed initiative
and discretion in directing the course of events, and a strong sense of
moral responsibility, attributes which attracted his interest. He was
obliged to make two more visits before the execution of the will, and on
each occasion he had an opportunity to spend a half-hour alone in the
society of Selma. He found her gravely and engagingly sympathetic with
his advocacy of democratic principles; he told her of his ambition to be
elected to Congress--an ambition which he believed would be realized the
following autumn. He confided to her, also, that he was engaged in his
leisure moments in the preparation of a literary volume to be entitled,
"Watchwords of Patriotism," a study of the requisites of the best
citizenship, exemplified by pertinent extracts from the public
utterances of the most distinguished American public servants.
Selma on her part reciprocated by a reference to the course of lectures
on "Culture and Higher Education," which she had resolved to deliver
before the Benham Institute during the winter. In these lectures she
meant to emphasize the importance of unfettered individuality, and to
comment adversely on the tendencies hostile to this fundamental
principle of progress which she had observed in New York and from which
Benham itself did not appear to her to be entirely exempt. After
delivering these lectures in Benham she intended to repeat them in
various parts of the State, and in some of the large cities elsewhere,
under the auspices of the Confederated Sisterhood of Women's Clubs of
America, the Sorosis which Mrs. Earle had established on a firm basis,
and of which at present she was second vice-president. As a token of
sympathy with this undertaking, Mr. Lyons offered to procure her a free
pass on the railroads over which she would be obliged to travel. This
pleased Selma greatly, for she had always regarded free passes as a sign
of mysterious and enviable importance.
Two months later Selma, as secretary of the sub-committee of the
Institute selected to oppose before the legislature the bill to create
an appointed school board, had further occasion to confer with Mr.
Lyons. He agreed to be the active counsel, and approved of the plan that
a delegation of women should journey to the capital, two hours and a
half by rail, and add the moral support of their presence at the hearing
before the legislative committee.
The expedition was another gratification to Selma--who had become
possessed of her free pass. She felt that in visiting the state-house
and thus taking an active part in the work of legislation she was
beginning to fulfil the larger destiny for which she was qualified. Side
by side with Mrs. Earle at the head of a delegation of twenty Benham
women she marched augustly into the committee chamber. The contending
factions sat on opposite sides of the room. Through its middle ran a
long table occupied by the Committee on Education to which the bill had
been referred. Among the dozen or fifteen persons who appeared in
support of the bill Selma perceived Mrs. Hallett Taylor, whom she had
not seen since her return. She was disappointed to observe that Mrs.
Taylor's clothes, though unostentatious, were in the latest fashion. She
had hoped to find her dowdy or unenlightened, and to be able to look
down on her from the heights of her own New York experience.
The lawyer in charge of the bill presented lucidly and with skill the
merits of his case, calling to the stand four prominent educators from
as many different sections of the State, and several citizens of
well-known character, among them Babcock's former pastor, Rev. Henry
Glynn. He pointed out that the school committee, as at present
constituted, was an unwieldy body of twenty-four members, that it was
regarded as the first round in the ladder of political preferment, and
that the members which composed it were elected not on the ground of
their fitness, but because they were ambitious for political
recognition.
The legislative committee listened politely but coldly to these
statements and to the testimony of the witnesses. It was evident that
they regarded the proposed reform with distrust.
"Do you mean us to understand that the public schools of this State are
not among the best, if not the best, in the world?" asked one member of
the committee, somewhat sternly.
"I recognize the merits of our school system, but I am not blind to its
faults," responded the attorney in charge of the bill. He was a man who
possessed the courage of his convictions, but he was a lawyer of tact,
and he knew that his answer went to the full limit of what he could
safely utter by way of qualification without hopelessly imperilling his
cause.
"Are not our public schools turning out yearly hundreds of boys and
girls who are a growing credit to the soundness of the institutions of
the country?" continued the same inquisitor.
Here was a proposition which opened such a vista of circuitous and
careful speech, were he to attempt to answer it and be true to
conscience without being false to patriotism, that Mr. Hunter was driven
to reply, "I am unable to deny the general accuracy of your statement."
"Then why seek to harass those who are doing such good work by
unfriendly legislation?"
The member plainly felt that he had disposed of the matter by this
triumphant interrogation, for he listened with scant attention to a
repetition of the grounds on which, relief was sought.
Mr. Lyons's method of reply was a surprise to Selma. She had looked for
a fervid vindication of the principle of the people's choice, and an
eloquent, sarcastic setting forth of the evils of the exclusive and
aristocratic spirit. He began by complimenting the members of the
committee on their ability to deal intelligently with the important
question before them, and then proceeded to refer to the sincere but
mistaken zeal of the advocates of the bill, whom he described as people
animated by conscientious motives, but unduly distrustful of the
capacity of the American people. His manner suggested a desire to be at
peace with all the world and was agreeably conciliatory, as though he
deprecated the existence of friction. He said that he would not do the
members of the committee the injustice to suppose that they could
seriously favor the passage of a bill which would deprive the
intelligent average voter of one of his dearest privileges; but that he
desired to put himself on record as thinking it a fortunate
circumstance, on the whole, that the well-intentioned promoters of the
bill had brought this matter to the attention of the legislature, and
had an opportunity to express their views. He believed that the hearing
would be productive of benefit to both parties, in that on the one hand
it would tend to make the voters more careful as to whom they selected
for the important duties of the school board, and on the other
would--he, as a lover of democratic institutions, hoped--serve to
convince the friends of the bill that they had exaggerated the evils of
the situation, and that they were engaged in a false and hopeless
undertaking in seeking to confine by hard and fast lines the spontaneous
yearnings of the American people to control the education of their
children. "We say to these critics," he continued, "some of whom are
enrolled under the solemn name of reformers, that we welcome their zeal
and offer co-operation in a resolute purpose to exercise unswerving
vigilance in the selection of candidates for the high office of
guardians of our public schools. So far as they will join hands with us
in keeping undefiled the traditions of our forefathers, to that extent
we are heartily in accord with them, but when they seek to override
those traditions and to fasten upon this community a method which is
based on a lack of confidence in democratic theories, then I--and
gentlemen, I feel sure that you--are against them."
Lyons sat down, having given everyone in the room, with the exception of
a few discerning spirits on the other side, the impression that he had
intended to be pre-eminently fair, and that he had held out the olive
branch when he would have been justified in using the scourge. The
inclination to make friends, to smooth over seamy situations and to
avoid repellent language in dealing with adversaries, except in
corporation cases before juries and on special occasions when defending
his political convictions, had become a growing tendency with him now
that he was in training for public office. Selma did not quite know what
to make of it at first. She had expected that he would crush their
opponents beneath an avalanche of righteous invective. Instead he took
his seat with an expression of countenance which was no less benignant
than dignified. When the hearing was declared closed, a few minutes
later, he looked in her direction, and in the course of his passage to
where she was sitting stopped to exchange affable greetings with
assemblymen and others who came in his way. At his approach Mrs. Earle
uttered congratulations so comprehensive that Selma felt able to refrain
for the moment from committing herself. "I am glad that you were
pleased," he said. "I think I covered the ground, and no one's feelings
have been hurt." As though he divined what was passing through Selma's
mind, he added in an aside intended only for their ears, "It was not
necessary to use all our powder, for I could tell from the way the
committee acted that they were with us."
"I felt sure they would be," exclaimed Mrs. Earle. "And, as you say, it
is a pleasure that no one's feelings were hurt, and that we can all part
friends."
"Which reminds me," said Lyons, "that I should be glad of an
introduction to Mrs. Taylor as she passes us on her way out. I wish to
assure her personally of my willingness to further her efforts to
improve the quality of the school board."
"That would be nice of you," said Mrs. Earle, "and ought to please and
encourage her, for she will be disappointed, poor thing, and after all I
suppose she means well. There she is now, and I will keep my eye on
her."
"But surely, Mr. Lyons," said Selma, dazed yet interested by this
doctrine of brotherly love, "don't you think our school committee
admirable as it is?"
"A highly efficient body," he answered. "But I should be glad to have
our opponents--mistaken as we believe them to be--appreciate that we no
less than they are zealous to preserve the present high standard. We
must make them recognize that we are reformers and in sympathy with
reform."
"I see," said Selma. "For, of course, we are the real reformers. Convert
them you mean? Be civil to them at least? I understand. Yes, I suppose
there is no use in making enemies of them." She was thinking aloud.
Though ever on her guard to resent false doctrine, she was so sure of
the loyalty of both her companions that she could allow herself to be
interested by this new point of view--a vast improvement on the New York
manner because of its ethical suggestion. She realized that if Mr. Lyons
was certain of the committee, it was right, and at the same time
sensible, not to hurt anyone's feelings unnecessarily--although she felt
a little suspicious because he had asked to be introduced to Mrs.
Taylor. Indeed, the more she thought of this attitude, on the assumption
that the victory was assured, the more it appealed to her conscience and
intelligence; so much so that when Mrs. Earle darted forward to detain
Mrs. Taylor, Selma was reflecting with admiration on his magnanimity.
She observed intently the meeting between Mr. Lyons and Mrs. Taylor. He
was deferential, complimentary, and genial, and he made a suave,
impressive offer of his personal services, in response to which Mrs.
Taylor regarded him with smiling incredulity--a smile which Selma
considered impertinent. How dared she treat his courtly advances with
flippant distrust!
"Are you aware, Mr. Lyons," Mrs. Taylor was saying, "that one of the
present members of the school board is a milkman, and another a
carpenter--both of them persons of very ordinary efficiency from an
educational standpoint? Will you co-operate with us, when their terms
expire next year and they seek re-election, to nominate more suitable
candidates in their stead?"
"I shall be very glad when the time comes to investigate carefully their
qualifications, and if they are proved to be unworthy of the confidence
of the people, to use my influence against them. You may rely on
this--rely on my cordial support, and the support of these ladies," he
added, indicating Mrs. Earle and Selma, with a wave of his hand, "who,
if you will permit me to say so, are no less interested than you in
promoting good government."
"Oh, yes, indeed. We thought we were making an ideal choice in Miss
Luella Bailey," said Mrs. Earle with effusion. "If Mrs. Taylor had seen
more of her, I feel sure she would have admired her, and then our
Institute would not have been dragged into politics."
Mrs. Taylor did not attempt to answer this appeal. Instead she greeted
Selma civilly, and said, "I was sorry to hear that you were against us,
Mrs. Littleton. We were allies once in a good cause, and in spite of Mr.
Lyons's protestations to the contrary, I assure you that this is another
genuine opportunity to improve the existing order of things. At least,"
she added, gayly but firmly, "you must not let Mr. Lyons's predilection
to see everything through rose-colored spectacles prevent you from
looking into the matter on your own account."
"I have done so already," answered Selma, affronted at the suggestion
that she was uninformed, yet restrained from displaying her annoyance by
the sudden inspiration that here was an admirable opportunity to
practise the proselytizing forbearance suggested by Mr. Lyons. The idea
of patronizing Mrs. Taylor from the vantage-ground of infallibility,
tinctured by magnanimous condescension, appealed to her. "I have made a
thorough study of the question, and I never could look at it as you do,
Mrs. Taylor. I sided with you before because I thought you were
right--because you were in favor of giving everyone a chance of
expression. But now I'm on the other side for the same reason--because
you and your friends are disposed to deprive people of that very thing,
and to regard their aspirations and their efforts contemptuously, if I
may say so. That's the mistake we think you make--we who, as Mr. Lyons
has stated, are no less eager than you to maintain the present high
character of everything which concerns our school system. But if you
only would see things in a little different light, both Mrs. Earle and I
would be glad to welcome you as an ally and to co-operate with you."
Selma had not expected to make such a lengthy speech, but as she
proceeded she was spurred by the desire to teach Mrs. Taylor her proper
place, and at the same time to proclaim her own allegiance to the
attitude of optimistic forbearance.
"I knew that was the way they felt," said Lyons, ingratiatingly. "It
would be a genuine pleasure to us all to see this unfortunate difference
of opinion between earnest people obviated."
Mrs. Taylor, as Selma was pleased to note, flushed at her concluding
offer, and she answered, drily, "I fear that we are too far apart in our
ideas to talk of co-operation. If our bill is defeated this year, we
shall have to persevere and trust to the gradual enlightenment of public
sentiment. Good afternoon."
Selma left the State-house in an elated frame of mind. She felt that she
had taken a righteous and patriotic stand, and it pleased her to think
that she was taking an active part in defending the institutions of the
country. She chatted eagerly as she walked through the corridors with
Mr. Lyons, who, portly and imposing, acted as escort to her and Mrs.
Earle, and invited them to luncheon at a hotel restaurant. Excitement
had given her more color than usual, to which her mourning acted as a
foil, and she looked her best. Lyons was proud of being in the company
of such a presentable and spirited appearing woman, and made a point of
stopping two or three members of the legislature and introducing them to
her. When they reached the restaurant he established them at a table
where they could see everybody and be seen, and he ordered scolloped
oysters, chicken-salad, ice-cream, coffee, and some bottles of
sarsaparilla. Both women were in high spirits, and Selma was agreeably
conscious that people were observing them. Before the repast was over a
messenger brought a note to Mr. Lyons, which announced that the
legislative committee had given the petitioners leave to withdraw their
bill, which, in Selma's eyes, justified the management of the affair,
and set the seal of complete success on an already absorbing and
delightful occasion.