Carolina spoke quickly, her face flushing at the thought of the new vista of life now opening.  “Yes, I have always longed to be a part of the real life of this world; the life of constant action—­meeting new people every day, and prominent people.  Balls, receptions, teas, theater parties, afternoon drives, plenty of money and plenty of gayety are what I want.  I’m not a bit like Hope Georgia, who thinks these ideas are extravagant because she has not seen real life yet—­”

“Carolina, you must not think me ‘only your little sister’ now.  I have seen life.  Haven’t I spent a week in Jackson?”

“That’s enough proof.  You know all about life, I’m sure, Miss Hope Georgia,” smilingly remarked Norton.

Later, rising to join Planter Langdon on the veranda, where he had gone to smoke, the Congressman gazed intently at Carolina.  “You will probably forget your old friends when you enter the dizzy social race in Washington.”

“No, Charlie, I couldn’t forget you, anyhow.  You will be there, too.  I shall depend on you a great deal to take me about, unless you are too busy making speeches and fighting your opponents.”

Again it was Norton’s turn to be inwardly amused at the political ignorance of the Langdon family.  Speeches?  The first-term Congressman doesn’t make speeches in Washington, because no one cares what he thinks—­except the lobbyists, whose business it is to provide new members with a complete set of thoughts.  Neither does he have opponents—­he is not considered important enough by the veterans to be opposed.

Skilfully approaching the subject which next to Carolina Langdon had been uppermost in his mind during his visit, Norton asked the Senator-elect on joining him if he did not believe that the entire South would benefit if the plan to establish a naval base on the gulf was successfully carried through.

“Most certainly I do, and, as I said during the senatorial fight, the whole country as well will be the gainer,” responded Langdon.

“Don’t you think the people who want Altacoola chosen as the site have the best arguments?” was the visitor’s next question, the reply to which he anxiously awaited.

“Yes, I do, from what I’ve already heard; but I haven’t heard very much of what the folks who advocate other sites have to say.  So, until I’ve heard all sides and made my own examination, I couldn’t give any one my final answer, but Altacoola seems to have the necessary qualifications.”

“Senator Stevens is in favor of Altacoola,” eagerly suggested Norton.

“Yes, and that’s a pretty good argument in its favor,” responded Langdon.

Norton now excused himself, pleading an appointment with a client at a neighboring village.  Waving farewell to Carolina and Hope Georgia, who stood at a window, he rode away.  “The old man is sure to be all right,” he muttered.  “He leans toward Altacoola and believes in Stevens.  He’ll lean some more until he falls over—­into the trap.  There’s a fortune in sight—­within reach.  Langdon has faith in his friends.  He won’t suspect a thing.”