tily in the
electric light. Around the spacious half-circle of the floor bends
the great two-storied curve of the boxes, its frontage elaborately
ornamented and sumptuously gilded. On the floor of the House the 425
desks radiate fanwise from the President's tribune.

The galleries are crowded on this particular evening, for word has gone
about that the Ausgleich is before the House; that the President, Ritter
von Abrahamowicz, has been throttling the Rules; that the Opposition are
in an inflammable state in consequence, and that the night session is
likely to be of an exciting sort.

The gallery guests are fashionably dressed, and the finery of the women
makes a bright and pretty show under the strong electric light. But down
on the floor there is no costumery.

The deputies are dressed in day clothes; some of the clothes neat and
trim, others not; there may be three members in evening dress, but not
more. There are several Catholic priests in their long black gowns, and
with crucifixes hanging from their necks. No member wears his hat. One
may see by these details that the aspects are not those of an evening
sitting of an English House of Commons, but rather those of a sitting of
our House of Representatives.

In his high place sits the President, Abrahamowicz, object of the
Opposition's limitless hatred. He is sunk back in the depths of his
arm-chair, and has his chin down. He brings the ends of his spread
fingers together, in front of his breast, and reflectively taps them
together, with the air of one who would like to begin business, but must
wait, and be as patient as he can. It makes you think of Richelieu. Now
and then he swings his head up to the left or to the right and answers
something which some one has bent down to say to him. Then he taps his
fingers again. He looks tired, and maybe a trifle harassed. He is a
gray-haired, long, slender man, with a colourless long face, which,
in repose, suggests a death-mask; but when not in repose is tossed and
rippled by a turbulent smile which washes this way and that, and is not
easy to keep up with--a pious smile, a holy smile, a saintly smile, a
deprecating smile, a beseeching and supplicating smile; and when it
is at work the large mouth opens, and the flexible lips crumple, and
unfold, and crumple again, and move around in a genial and persuasive
and angelic way, and expose large glimpses of the teeth; and that
interrupts the sacredness of the smile and gives