CHAPTER VII.

At the close of the fortnight of her stay in Washington subsequent to

the reception at the White House, Selma found herself in the same frame

of mind as when she parted from Mr. Elton. During this fortnight her

time was spent either in sight seeing or at the hotel. The exercises at

the Capitol were purely formal, preliminary to a speedy adjournment of

Congress. Consequently her husband had no opportunity to distinguish

himself by addressing the house. Of Flossy she saw nothing, though the

two men had several meetings. Apparently both Lyons and Williams were

content with a surface reconciliation between their wives which did not

bar family intercourse. At least her husband made no suggestion that she

should call on Mrs. Williams, and Flossy's cards did not appear. Beyond

making the acquaintance of a few more wives and daughters in the hotel,

who seemed as solitary as herself, Selma received no overtures from her

own sex. She knew no one, and no one sought her out or paid her

attention. She still saw fit to believe that if she were to establish

herself in Washington and devote her energies to rallying these wives

and daughters about her, she might be able to prove that Flossy and Mr.

Elton were mistaken. But she realized that the task would be less simple

than she had anticipated. Besides she yearned to return to Benham, and

take up again the thread of active life there. Benham would vindicate

her, and some day Benham would send her back to Washington to claim

recognition and her rightful place.

Lyons himself was in a cheerful mood and found congenial occupation in

visiting with his wife the many historical objects of interest, and in

chatting in various hotel corridors with the public men of the country,

his associates in Congress. His solicitude in regard to the account

which Williams was carrying for him had been relieved temporarily by an

upward turn in the stock market, and the impending prompt adjournment of

Congress had saved him from the necessity of taking action in regard to

the railroad bill which Williams had solicited him to support. Moreover

Selma had repeated to him Horace Elton's prophecy that it was not

unlikely that some day he would become Senator. To be sure he recognized

that a remark like this uttered to a pretty woman by an astute man of

affairs such as Elton was not to be taken too seriously. There was no

vacancy in the office of Senator from his state, and none was likely to

occur. At the present time, if one should occur, his party in the state

legislature was in a minority. Hence prophecy was obviously a random

proceeding. Nevertheless he was greatly pleased, for, after all, Elton

would scarcely have made the speech had he not been genuinely well

disposed. A senatorship was one of the great prizes of political life,

and one of the noblest positions in the world. It would afford him a

golden opportunity to leave the impress of his convictions on national

legislation, and defend the liberties of the people by force of the

oratorical gifts which he possessed. Elton had referred to these gifts

in complimentary terms. Was it not reasonable to infer that Elton would

be inclined to promote his political fortunes? Such an ally would be

invaluable, for Elton was a growing power in the industrial development

of the section of the country where they both lived. He had continued to

find him friendly in spite of his own antagonism on the public platform

to corporate power. A favorite and conscientious hope in his political

outlook was that he might be able to make capital as well as labor

believe him to be a friend without alienating either; that he might

obtain support at the polls from both factions, and thus be left free

after election to work out for their mutual advantage appropriate

legislation. He had avowed himself unmistakably the champion of popular

principles in order to win the confidence of the common people, but his

policy of reasonable conciliation led him to cast sheep's eyes at vested

interests when he could do so without exposing himself to the charge of

inconsistency. Many of his friends were wealthy men, and his private

ambition was to amass a handsome fortune. That had been the cause of his

speculative ventures in local enterprises which promised large returns,

and in the stock market. Horace Elton was a friend of but three years'

standing; one of the men who had consulted him occasionally in regard to

legal matters since he had become a corporation attorney. He admired

Elton's strong, far-reaching grasp of business affairs, his capacity to

formulate and incubate on plans of magnitude without betraying a sign of

his intentions, and his power to act with lightning despatch and

overwhelming vigor when the moment for the consummation of his purposes

arrived. He also found agreeable Elton's genial, easy-going ways outside

of business hours, which frequently took the form of social

entertainment at which expense seemed to be no consideration and

gastronomic novelties were apt to be presented. Lyons attended one of

these private banquets while in Washington--a dinner party served to a

carefully chosen company of public men, to which newspaper scribes were

unable to penetrate. This same genial, easy-going tendency of Elton's to

make himself acceptable to those with whom he came in contact took the

form of a gift to Mrs. Lyons of a handsome cameo pin which he presented

to her a day or two after their dialogue at the President's reception,

and for which, as he confidentially informed Selma, he had been seeking

a suitable wearer ever since he had picked it up in an out-of-the-way

store in Brussels the previous summer.

On the day of their departure Selma, as she took a last look from the

car window at the Capitol and the Washington Monument, said to her

husband: "This is a beautiful city--worthy in many respects of the

genius of the American people--but I never wish to return to Washington

until you are United States Senator."

"Would you not be satisfied with Justice of the Supreme Court?" asked

Lyons, gayly.

"I should prefer Senator. If you were Senator, you could probably be

appointed to the Supreme Court in case you preferred that place. I am

relying on you, James, to bring me back here some day."

She whispered this in his ear, as they sat with heads close together

looking back at the swiftly receding city. Selma's hands were clasped in

her lap, and she seemed to her lover to have a dreamy air--an air

suggesting poetry and high ethical resolve such as he liked to associate

with her and their scheme of wedded life. It pleased him that his wife

should feel so confident that the future had in store for him this great

prize, and he allowed himself to yield to the pathos of the moment and

whisper in reply:

"I will say this, Selma. My business affairs look more favorable, and,

if nothing unforeseen happens, I do not see why we shouldn't get on

reasonably fast. Nowadays, in order to be a United States Senator

comfortably, it is desirable in the first place to have abundant means."

"Yes."

"We must be patient and God-fearing, and with your help, dear, and your

sympathy, we may live to see what you desire come to pass. Of course, my

ambition is to be Senator, and--and to take you back to Washington as a

Senator's wife."

Selma had not chosen to confide to Lyons in set terms her social

grievance against the capital of her country. But she was glad to

perceive from his last words that he understood she was not satisfied

with the treatment accorded her, and that he also was looking forward to

giving her a position which would enable her to rebuke the ungodly and

presumptuous.

"Thank you, James," she answered. "When that time comes we shall be able

to teach them a number of things. For the present though, I feel that I

can be of best service to you and to the truths which we are living for

by interesting myself in whatever concerns Benham. We believe in Benham,

and Benham seems inclined to believe in us and our ideas."

The ensuing year passed uneventfully. Lyons was able to be at home from

the first of April to the reassembling of Congress in the following

December. He was glad to give himself up to the enjoyment of his

handsome establishment. He resumed the tenor of his professional

practice, feeling that as a sober-minded, married citizen he had become

of more importance to the community, and he was eager to bear witness to

his sense of responsibility. He took a more active part in soliciting

contributions for evangelizing benighted countries, and he consented on

several occasions to deliver an address on "Success in Life" to

struggling young men of Benham and the surrounding towns. His easy flow

of words, his dignity and his sober but friendly mien made him a

favorite with audiences, and constantly broadened his circle of

acquaintance.

Selma, on her side, took up the organization of the Free Hospital

provided by Mr. Parsons. Her husband left the decision of all but legal

and financial questions to her and Miss Luella Bailey, who, at Selma's

request, was made the third member of the board of trustees. She decided

to call in a committee of prominent physicians to formulate a programme

of procedure in matters purely medical; but she reserved a right of

rejection of their conclusions, and she insisted on the recognition of

certain cardinal principles, as she called them. She specified that no

one school of medicine should dictate the policy of the hospital as

regards the treatment of patients. To the young physician whom she

selected to assist her in forming this administrative board she stated,

with stern emotion: "I do not intend that it shall be possible in this

hospital for men and women to be sacrificed simply because doctors are

unwilling to avail themselves of the latest resources of brilliant

individual discernment. I know what it means to see a beloved one die,

who might have been saved had the physician in charge been willing to

try new expedients. The doors of this hospital must be ever open to

rising unconventional talent. There shall be no creeds nor caste of

medicine here."

She also specified that the matron in charge of the hospital should be

Mrs. Earle, whose lack of trained experience was more than

counterbalanced by her maternal, humanitarian spirit, as Selma expressed

it. She felt confident that Mrs. Earle would choose as her assistants

competent and skilful persons, and at the same time that her broad point

of view and sympathetic instincts would not allow her to turn a deaf ear

to aspiring but technically ignorant ability. This selection of Mrs.

Earle was a keen pleasure to Selma. It seemed to her an ideal selection.

Mrs. Earle was no longer young, and was beginning to find the constant

labor of lecture and newspaper work exhausting. This dignified and

important post would provide her with a permanent income, and would

afford her an attractive field for her progressive capabilities.

Selma's choice of young Dr. Ashmun as the head of the medical board was

due to a statement which came to her ears, that he was reviled by some

of the physicians of Benham because he had patented certain discoveries

of his own instead of giving his fellow-practitioners the benefit of his

knowledge. Selma was prompt to detect in this hostility an envious

disposition on the part of the regular physicians to appropriate the

fruits of individual cleverness and to repress youthful revolt against

conventional methods. Dr. Ashmun regarded his selection as the

professional chief of this new institution as a most auspicious

occurrence from the standpoint of his personal fortunes. He was

ambitious, ardent, and keen to attract attention, with an abundant fund

of energy and a nervous, driving manner. He was, besides, good looking

and fluent, and he quickly perceived the drift of Selma's intentions in

regard to the hospital, and accommodated himself to them with

enthusiasm. They afforded him the very opportunity which he most

desired--the chance to assert himself against his critics, and to obtain

public notice. The watchword of liberty and distrust of professional

canons suited his purposes and his mood, and he threw himself eagerly

into the work of carrying out Selma's projects.

As a result of the selection of Dr. Ashmun and of the other members of

the administrative board, who were chosen with a view to their

availability as sympathetic colleagues, letters of protest from several

physicians appeared in the newspapers complaining that the new hospital

was being conducted on unscientific and shallow principles, disapproved

of by the leading men of the profession. Selma was indignant yet

thrilled. She promptly took steps to refute the charge, and explained

that the hostility of these correspondents proceeded from envy and

hide-bound reluctance to adopt new and revolutionizing expedients.

Through the aid of Mrs. Earle and Miss Luella Bailey a double-leaded

column in the Benham _Sentinel_ set forth the merits of the new

departure in medicine, which was cleverly described as the revolt of the

talented young men of the profession from the tyranny of their

conservative elders. Benham became divided in opinion as to the merits

of this controversy, and Selma received a number of anonymous letters

through the post approving her stand in behalf of advanced, independent

thought. Among the physicians who were opposed to her administration of

the hospital she recognized with satisfaction the name of a Dr. Paget,

who, as she happened to know, was Mrs. Hallett Taylor's medical adviser.

Another matter in which Selma became interested was the case of Mrs.

Hamilton. She was a woman who had been born in the neighborhood of

Benham, but had lived for twenty years in England, and had been tried in

England by due process of law for the murder of her husband and

sentenced to imprisonment for life. Some of the people of the state who

had followed the testimony as reported in the American newspapers had

decided that she ought not to have been convicted. Accordingly a

petition setting forth the opinion of her former neighbors that she was

innocent of the charge, and should as an American citizen be released

from custody, was circulated for signature. A public meeting was held

and largely attended, at which it was resolved to send a monster

petition to the British authorities with a request for Mrs. Hamilton's

pardon, and also to ask the government at Washington to intercede on

behalf of the unfortunate sufferer. The statement of the case appealed

vividly to Selma, and at the public meeting, which was attended chiefly

by women, she spoke, and offered the services of her husband to lay the

matter before the President. It was further resolved to obtain the names

of influential persons all over the country in order that the petition

might show that the sentiment that injustice had been done was national

as well as local.

Selma espoused the case with ardor, and busied herself in obtaining

signatures. She called on Miss Flagg and induced her to sign by the

assurance that the verdict was entirely contrary to the evidence. She

then had recourse to her former sister-in-law, conceiving that the

signature of the President of Wetmore College would impress the English.

She and Pauline had already exchanged visits, and Pauline had shown no

umbrage at her marriage. The possibility of being rebuffed on this

occasion did not occur to Selma. She took for granted that Pauline would

be only too glad to give her support to so deserving a petition, and she

considered that she was paying her a compliment in soliciting her name

for insertion among the prominent signers. Pauline listened to her

attentively, then replied:

"I am sorry for the woman, if she is innocent: and if she has been

falsely accused, of course she ought to be released. But what makes you

think she is innocent, Selma?"

"The testimony did not justify her conviction. Every one is of that

opinion."

"Have you read the testimony yourself, Selma?"

"No, Pauline."

"Or your husband?"

"My husband is satisfied from what others have told him, just as I am,

that this poor American woman is languishing in prison as the result of

a cruel miscarriage of justice, and that she never committed the crime

of which she has been found guilty. My husband has had considerable

legal experience."

Pauline's questions were nettling, and Selma intended by her response to

suggest the presumptuousness of her sister-in-law's doubts in the face

of competent authority.

"I realize that your husband ought to understand about such matters, but

may one suppose that the English authorities would deliberately allow an

innocent woman to remain in prison? They must know that the friends of

Mrs. Hamilton believe her innocent. Why should we on this side of the

water meddle simply because she was born an American?"

"Why?" Selma drew herself up proudly. "In the first place I believe--we

believe--that the English are capable of keeping her in prison on a

technicality merely because she is there already. They are worshippers

of legal form and red tape, my husband says. And as to meddling, why is

it not our duty as an earnest and Christian people to remonstrate

against the continued incarceration of a woman born under our flag and

accustomed to American ideas of justice? Meddling? In my opinion, we

should be cowards and derelict in our duty if we did not protest."

Pauline shook her head. "I cannot see it so. It seems to me an

interference which may make us seem ridiculous in the eyes of the

English, as well as offensive to them. I am sorry, Selma, not to be able

to do as you wish."

Selma rose with burning cheeks, but a stately air. "If that is your

decision, I must do without your name. Already we have many signatures,

and shall obtain hundreds more without difficulty. We look at things

differently, Pauline. Our point of view has never been the same.

Ridiculous? I should be proud of the ridicule of people too selfish or

too unenlightened to heed the outcry of aspiring humanity. If we had to

depend on your little set to strike the note of progress, I fear we

should sit with folded hands most of the time."

"I do not know what you mean by my little set," said Pauline with a

smile. "I am too busy with my college duties to belong to any set. I see

my friends occasionally just as you see yours; and as to progress--well,

I fear that you are right in your statement that we shall never look at

things alike. To me progress presupposes in the individual or the

community attaining it a prelude of slow struggle, disheartening doubts,

and modest reverence for previous results--for the accumulated wisdom of

the past."

"I mean by your set the people who think as you do. I understand your

point of view. I should have liked," she added, "to ask you to share

with me the responsibility of directing the policy of the Benham Free

Hospital, had I not known that you would listen to the voice of

conservative authority in preference to that of fearless innovation."

"I certainly should have hesitated long before I overruled the

experience of those who have devoted their lives to conscientious effort

to discover truth."

"That illustrates admirably the difference between us, Pauline. No one

is more eager to aid the discovery of truth than I, but I believe that

truth often is concealed from those who go on, day after day, following

hum-drum routine, however conscientious. I recognized that Dr. Ashmun

was a live man and had fresh ideas, so I chose him as our chief of

staff, notwithstanding the doctors were unfriendly to him. As a result,

my hospital has individuality, and is already a success. That's the sort

of thing I mean. Good-by," she said, putting out her hand. "I don't

expect to convert you, Pauline, to look at things my way, but you must

realize by this time that it is the Benham way."

"Yet the leading physicians of Benham disapprove of your plans for the

management of the hospital," said Pauline firmly.

"But the people of Benham approve of them. I prefer their sanction to

that of a coterie of cautious, unenthusiastic autocrats."

Selma, true to her intentions, did not return to Washington with her

husband when Congress reassembled in December. While she was absorbed

with her philanthropic plans in Benham, Lyons was performing his public

duties; seeking to do the country good service, and at the right moment

to attract attention to himself. The opportunity to make a speech along

the line of his public professions in behalf of labor against corporate

monopoly did not offer itself until late in the session. He improved the

few minutes allowed him to such advantage that he was listened to with

close attention, and was at once recognized as one of the persuasive and

eloquent speakers of the minority. Before Congress adjourned he obtained

another chance to take part in debate, by which he produced an equally

favorable impression. The newspapers of the country referred approvingly

to his cogent gift of statement and dignified style of delivery. Both

the bills against which he spoke were passed by the Republican majority,

but echoes of his words came back from some of their constituents, and

Lyons was referred to as certain to be one of the strong men of the

House if he returned to Congress. He went home at the close of the

session in a contented frame of mind so far as his political prospects

were concerned, but he was not free to enjoy the congratulations

accorded him for the reason that his business ventures were beginning to

give him serious solicitude. The trend of the stock market was again

downward. In expectation of a rise from the previous depression, he had

added to the line of shares which Williams & Van Horne were carrying for

him. A slight rise had come, sufficient to afford him a chance to escape

from the toils of Wall street without loss. But he needed a profit to

rehabilitate his ventures in other directions--his investments in the

enterprises of his own state, which had now for some months appeared

quiescent, if not languishing, from a speculative point of view.

Everything pointed, it was said, to a further advance as soon as

Congress adjourned. So he had waited, and now, although the session was

over, the stock market and financial undertakings of every sort appeared

suddenly to be tottering. He had not been at home a month before prices

of all securities began to shrink inordinately and the business horizon

to grow murky with the clouds of impending disaster. To add to his

worry, Lyons was conscious that he had pursued a fast and loose mental

coarse in regard to the railroad bill in which his broker, Williams, was

interested. He had given Williams to understand that he would try to see

his way to support it; yet in view of his late prominence in Washington,

as a foe of legislation in behalf of moneyed interests, he was more than

ever averse to casting a vote in its favor. The bill had not been

reached before adjournment, a result to which he had secretly

contributed, but it was certain to be called up shortly after Congress

reassembled. It disturbed him to feel that his affairs in New York were

in such shape that Williams could embarrass him financially if he chose.

It disturbed him still more that he appeared to himself to be guilty of

bad faith. His conscience was troubled, and his favorite palliative of

conciliation did not seem applicable to the case.

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