collective impression of the men who stared at her to-night. There was
a general suggestion of weight, in the sculptor's sense, and repose
combined with alertness, and they stood very squarely on their feet.
Betty had only had time to single out one long beard dependent from a
visage otherwise shorn, and to observe further that some of the women
were charmingly dressed, while others wore light silk afternoon
frocks, when dinner was announced.

Her partner was evidently one of the younger Senators, one of those
juvenile enthusiasts of forty-five who beat their breasts for some
years upon the Senate's impassive front. He was extremely good-
looking, with a fair strong impatient face, trimmed with a moustache
only, and a well-built figure full of nervous energy. He had less
repose than most of the men about him, but he suggested the same
solidity. He might fail or go wrong, but not because there was any
room in his mind for shams. His name was Burleigh, but what his
section was, Betty, as they exchanged amenities and admired the lavish
display of flowers, could not determine; he had no accent whatever,
and although his voice was deep and sonorous, it had not the peculiar
richness of the South. His gray eyes smiled as they met hers, and his
manners were charming; but Betty, accustomed to grasp the salient
points of character in a first interview, fancied that he could be
overbearing and truculent.

"Are they going to talk politics to-night?" she asked, when the
platitudes had run their course.

"I hope not. I've had enough of politics, all day."

"Oh, I hoped you would," said Betty, in a deeply disappointed tone.