and who, owing to his years and impenetrable dignity, was not to be
considered from the ordinary view-point of woman. She would coquet
with Senator Burleigh; it was on the cards that she would love him,
for he was brilliant, ambitious, and honourable; but Senator North was
exalted to the vacant pedestal reserved for ideals, and Betty settled
herself comfortably to his worship; not guessing that he would be
under her memory's dust-heap in ten days if Senator Burleigh captured
her heart.

The coachman was directed by a policeman to the covered portico of the
Senate wing. Betty had a bare glimpse of corridors apparently
interminable, before another policeman put her into the elevator and
told her to get off when the boy said "Gallery."

Senator Burleigh was waiting for her, and she thought him even manlier
and more imposing in his gray tweed than in evening dress. He shook
her hand heartily, and assured her in his abrupt dictatorial way that
it gave him the greatest pleasure to meet her again.

"I'm sorry I haven't time to take you all over the building," he
said," but I have two Committee meetings this afternoon. You must come
down some morning."

His manner was very businesslike, and he seemed a trifle absent as he
paused a moment and called her attention to the daub illustrating the
Electoral Commission; but this, Betty assumed, was the senatorial
manner by day. In a moment he led her to one of the doors in the wall
that encloses the Senate Gallery.

"You see this lady," he said peremptorily to the doorkeeper, who rose