in a back
room on the second floor (where the conflicting bands of Mr. Crewe and
Mr. Hunt could not be heard), which Mr. Manning and Mr. Jane and State
Senator Billings and Mr. Ridout attended. Query: the Honourable Hilary
had quarrelled with Mr. Flint, that was an open secret; did not Mr. Vane
think himself justified, from his own point of view, in taking a singular
revenge in not over-exerting himself to pull the Honourable Adam out,
thereby leaving the field open for his son, Austen Vane, with whom he was
apparently reconciled? Not that Mr. Flint had hinted of such a thing! He
had, in the telegram, merely urged the senator himself to see Mr. Hunt,
and to make one more attempt to restrain the loyalty to that candidate of
Messrs. Bascom and Botcher.

The senator made the attempt, and failed signally.

It was half-past midnight by the shining face of the clock on the tower
of the state-house, and hope flamed high in the bosom of the Honourable
Adam B. Hunt a tribute to the bellows-like skill of Messrs. Bascom and
Botcher. The bands in the street had blown themselves out, the delegates
were at last seeking rest, the hall boys in the corridors were turning
down the lights, and the Honourable Adam, in a complacent and even
jubilant frame of mind, had put on his carpet slippers and taken off his
coat, when there came a knock at his door. He was not a little amazed and
embarrassed, upon opening it, to see the Honourable Hilary. But these
feelings gave place almost immediately to a sense of triumph; gone were
the days when he had to report to Number Seven. Number Seven, in the
person of Hilary (who was Number Seven), had been forced to come to him!

"Well, upon my soul!" he exclaimed heartily. "Come in, Hilary."

He turned up the jets of the chandelier, and gazed at his friend, and was
silent.

"Have a seat, Hilary," he said, pushing up an armchair.

Mr. Vane sat down. Mr. Hunt took a seat opposite, and waited for his
visitor to speak. He himself seemed to find no words.

"Adam," said Mr. Vane, at length, "we've known each other for a good many
years."

"That's so, Hilary. That's so," Mr. Hunt eagerly assented. What was
coming?

"And whatever harm I've done in my life," Hilary continued, "I've always
tried to keep my word. I told you, when we met up there by the mill this
summer, that if Mr. Flint had consulted me about your candidacy, before
seeing you in New York, I shouldn't have advised it--this time."

The H