e
brought to Washington.

"They shall come," replied Richard confidently. "You have only to fix
the date."

"Any time between the second and tenth of January," suggested Senator
Hanway. And that was settled.

Richard, not so much because of an interest,--if truth were told his
thoughts went running away to Dorothy, and must be continually yanked
back by the ear to topics common and earthly,--but for the sake of
something to say, asked Senator Hanway about the committee of three
selected to investigate Northern Consolidated.

"You know, the business came up because of my letters in the _Daily
Tory_," observed Richard, by way of excuse for his curiosity.

The investigation was progressing slowly. It was secret; no part of the
evidence could be given out. It would not join with senatorial propriety
to let anything be known for publication.

"In a semi-judicial inquiry of this sort," explained Senator Hanway, in
tones of patronizing dignity, "one of your discernment will recognize
the impropriety, as well as the absolute injustice, of foreshadowing in
any degree the finding of the committee. For yourself, however, I don't
mind saying that the evidence, so far, is all in favor of Northern
Consolidated. The company will emerge with a clean bill of health--clean
as a whistle! The committee's finding," concluded Senator Hanway
musingly, "will be like a new coat of paint to the road. It should help
it immensely--help the stock; for these charges have hung over Northern
Consolidated values like a shadow."

"And when should the committee report?" queried Richard.

"Those things come along very leisurely; the report ought to be public,
I should think, about the middle of February. We may give it to the road
for a valentine," and Senator Hanway smiled in congratulation of himself
for something light and fluffy, something to mark in him a pliancy of
sentiment.

Senator Hanway--such is the weakness of the really great--had his vanity
as well as Richard, and would have been pleased had folk thought him of
a fancy that, on occasion, could break away from those more sodden
commodities of politics and law-building. Caesar and Napoleon were both
unhappy until they had written books, and Alexander cared more for
Aristotle's good opinion than for conquest.

Just when Richard, who had been expecting with every moment his Dorothy
to come rustling in, was beginning to despair, Dorothy's black maid
appeared, and, under pretense of a