Ward, who was presented a few moments later, told her that he had
envied Burleigh throughout the long dinner. Betty decided that the
senatorial manner certainly was agreeable.

The two men fell into conversation with one another, and Betty turned
her attention to Senator North. He was standing alone for the moment,
glancing about the room. His attitude was one of absolute repose; he
did not look as if he ever had hurried or wasted his energies or lost
his self-control in his life. His face was impenetrable; his eyes,
black and piercing, were wholly without that limpidity which reveals
depths and changes of expression; his mouth was somewhat contemptuous,
and betrayed neither tenderness nor humour. If possible, he stood
even more squarely on his feet than the other men. He had the powerful
thick-set figure which invariably harbours strong passions.

"I don't know whether I like him or not," thought Betty. "I think I
don't--but perhaps I do. He might be made of New England rock, and he
looks as if the earth could swallow him before he'd yield an inch. But
I can feel his magnetism over here. Why have all these men so much
magnetism? Is that, too, senatorial?"

Senator North caught her eye at the moment, and turned at once to Lady
Mary. A moment later he had been presented to Betty and they stood
alone.

"I once mended your hoop for you, when you were a little girl, just in
front of your house; but I am afraid you have forgotten it." "Oh,--I
think I do remember it. Yes--I do." She evoked the incident out of the
mists of childish memories. "Was it you? I am afraid I was looking
harder at the hoop than at its mender. But--I recall--I thought how