those grave ones proved the very climax of flattery. Senators Vice and
Price and Dice and Ice, and Stuff and Bluff and Gruff and Muff, and Loot
and Coot and Hoot and Toot, and Wink and Blink and Drink and
Kink--statesmen all and of snow-capped eminence in the topography of
party--endorsed Senator Hanway's ambition without a wrinkle of distrust
to mar their brows or a moment lost in weighing the proposal. The Senate
became a Hanway propaganda. Even the opposition, so far as slightly lay
with them, were pleasantly willing to help the work along, and Senator
Hanway blushed to find himself a Senate idol. By the encouragement which
his colleagues gave him, and the generous light of it, Senator Hanway
saw the way clear to become the choice of his party's national
convention. But he must work.

It was in that prior day when Senator Hanway served his State in the
legislature that he wedded Dorothy Harley. It is to be assumed that he
loved her dearly; for twelve years later when she died his grief was
like a storm, and for the rest of his days he would as soon think of a
top hat without a crown as without a mourning band.

When Senator Hanway married Dorothy Harley, her brother, John Harley,
married Barbara Hanway. Whether this exchange of sisters by the two was
meant for retort or for compliment lived a point of dispute--without
being settled--among the friends of the high contracting parties for
many, many months.

Not that anyone suffered by these double nuptials; the families owned
equal social standing, having none at all, and were evenly balanced in
fortune, since neither had a dollar. Both Senator Hanway and John Harley
had their fortunes to make when, each with the other's sister on his
arm, they called in the preacher that day; and after the wedding they