"He is from one of those dreadful North-western States and bound to be
corrupt," cried Emory, triumphantly. He wished desperately that he had
waited and got up his case. He spoke from sincere conviction. "There
may be a rag of decency left in the older States, but the West is
positively fetid. I give you my word I am speaking the truth, Betty
dear, and in your own interest. If I have no more details to give you,
it is because I promised my father on his death-bed that I would have
nothing to do with politics, and I have kept my word to the extent of
reading as little about them as possible. But I can assure you that I
know as much about them as anybody not in the accursed business. It is
in the air--" "There are so many things in the air that they get mixed
up. Your whole argument is based on air. Now, _mon ami_, you turn to
to-morrow and study up the record of every man in that Senate, as well
as the legislative methods of his State. When you know all about it, I
shall be delighted to be instructed. But I don't want any more air.
Now come in to dinner, and if you allude to the subject before Molly,
I'll leave the table."

He bowed over her hand again with his old-fashioned courtesy. "When
you issue a command I am bound to obey," he said, "and although you
have set me an unpleasant, an obnoxious task, I certainly shall
accomplish that also to the best of my ability. You belong to this old
house, Betty, to this old set; I love to think of you as the last rose
on the old Southern tree, and you shall not be blighted if I can help
it."

Betty tapped him lightly with her fan.

"I belong to the whole country, my dear boy; I am no old cabbage rose