s
to-night, and he turned to Mr. Worthington and laughed knowingly. "She's
the ward of our friend Jethro," he explained.

"What is she?" demanded Mrs. Duncan, who knew and cared nothing about
politics, "a country girl, I suppose."

"Yes," replied Mr. Sutton, "a country girl from a little village not
far from Clovelly. A good girl, I believe, in spite of the atmosphere in
which she has been raised."

"It's really wonderful, Mr. Sutton, how you seem to know every one in
your district, including the women and children," said the lady; "but I
suppose you wouldn't be where you are if you didn't."

The Honorable Heth cleared his throat.

"Wetherell," Mr. Duncan was saying, staring at Cynthia through his
spectacles, "where have I heard that name?"

He must suddenly have remembered, and recalled also that he and his ally
Worthington had been on opposite sides in the Woodchuck Session, for he
sat down abruptly beside the door, and remained there for a while. For
Mr. Duncan had never believed Mr. Merrill's explanation concerning poor
William Wetherell' s conduct.

"Pretty, ain't she?" said Mr. Sutton to Mr. Worthington. "Guess she's
more dangerous than Jethro, now that we've clipped his wings a little."
The congressman had heard of Bob's infatuation.

Isaac D. Worthington, however, was in a good humor this evening and was
moved by a certain curiosity to inspect the girl. Though what he had
seen and heard of his son's conduct with her had annoyed him, he did not
regard it seriously.

"Aren't you going to speak to your constituent, Mr. Sutton?" said
Mrs. Duncan, who was bored because her friends had not arrived; "a
congressman ought to keep on the right side of the pretty girls, you
know."

It hadn't occurred to the Honorable Heth to speak to his constituent.
The ways of Mrs. Duncan sometimes puzzled him, and he could not see why
that lady and her daughter seemed to take more than a passing interest
in the girl. But if they could afford to notice her, certainly he
could; so he went forward graciously and held out his hand to Cynthia;
interrupting Miss Duncan in the middle of a discourse upon her diary.

"How do you do, Cynthia?" said Mr. Sutton. Had he been in Coniston, he
would have said, "How be you?"

Cynthia took the hand, but did not rise, somewhat to Mr. Sutton's
annoyance. A certain respect was due to a member of Congress and the
Rajah of Clovelly.

"How do you do, Mr. Sutton?" said Cynthia, very coolly.