wing in his wake. Nor
could the honest German dissuade him from going back to the office for
the rest of the day, or discover what had happened.

But all through the afternoon that scene was painted on the pages of
Stephen's books. The crude booth in the darkened way. The free pose of
the girl standing in front of her companions, a blue wisp of autumn
sunlight falling at her feet. The young Prince laughing at her sallies,
and the elderly gentleman smiling with benevolence upon the pair.

CHAPTER XII

INTO WHICH A POTENTATE COMES

Virginia danced with the Prince, "by Special Appointment," at the ball
that evening. So did her aunt, Mrs. Addison Colfax. So likewise was Miss
Belle Cluyme among those honored and approved. But Virginia wore the most
beautiful of her Paris gowns, and seemed a princess to one watching from
the gallery. Stephen was sure that his Royal Highness made that
particular dance longer than the others. It was decidedly longer than the
one he had with Miss Cluyme, although that young lady had declared she
was in heaven.

Alas, that princes cannot abide with us forever! His Royal Highness bade
farewell to St. Louis, and presently that same 'City of Alton' which bore
him northward came back again in like royal state, and this time it was
in honor of a Democrat potentate. He is an old friend now, Senator and
Judge and Presidential Candidate,--Stephen Arnold Douglas,--father of the
doctrine of Local Sovereignty, which he has come to preach. So goes the
world. We are no sooner rid of one hero than we are ready for another.

Blow, you bandsmen on the hurricane deck, let the shores echo with your
national airs! Let the gay bunting wave in the river breeze! Uniforms
flash upon the guards, for no campaign is complete without the military.
Here are brave companies of the Douglas Guards, the Hickory Sprouts, and
the Little Giants to do honor to the person of their hero. Cannon are
booming as he steps into his open carriage that evening on the levee,
where the piles of river freight are covered with people. Transparencies
are dodging in the darkness. A fresh band strikes up "Hail Columbia," and
the four horses prance away, followed closely by the "Independent Broom
Rangers." "The shouts for Douglas," remarked a keen observer who was
present, "must have penetrated Abraham's bosom at Springfield."

Mr. Jacob Cluyme, who had been a Bell and Everett man until that day, was
not the only person of prominence c