Mrs. Delilah Jones was a pretty woman, and shrewd.  She had large eyes; languishing at will—­at will, also, bright and piercing.  Her face was a smiling, mobile face; the features rather coarse, the expression almost vulgar, but the vulgarity well concealed.  She was dressed in the extreme of the mode, and drew Mr. Newt’s arm very close to her as she spoke.  She observed that Mr. Newt was more than usually disposed to chat.  The honorable representative had dined.

“Our bill, Lady Delilah?  Thank you for that,” said Abel, in a low voice, and almost pressing the hand that lay upon his close-held arm.

The reply was a slow turn of the head, and a half languishment in the eyes as they sought his with the air of saying, “Would you deceive a woman who trusts in you utterly?”

They moved out of the throng a little, and stood by the window.

“I wish I dared to ask you one thing as a pure favor,” said the superb Mrs. Delilah Jones, and this time the eyes were firm and bright.

“I hoped, by this time, that you dared every thing,” replied Abel, with a vague reproach in his tone.

Mrs. Jones looked at him for a moment with a look of honest inquiry in her eyes.  His own did not falter.  Their expression combined confidence and respect.

“May I then ask,” she said, earnestly, and raising her other hand as if to lay it imploringly upon his shoulder, but somehow it fell into his hand, which was raised simultaneously, and which did not let it go—.

“For my sake, will you speak in favor of it?” she asked, casting her eyes down.

“For your sake, Delilah,” he said, in a musical whisper, and under the rouge her cheeks tingled—­“for your sake I will make a speech—­my maiden speech.”

There was more conversation between them.  The Honorable Mr. Ele stood guard, so to speak, and by incessant chatter warded off the company from pressing upon them unawares.  The guests, smiled as they looked on; and after the levee the newspapers circulated rumors (it was before the days of “Personal”) that were read with profound interest throughout the country, that the young and talented representative from the commercial emporium had not forfeited his reputation as a squire of dames, and gossip already declared that the charming and superb Mrs. D-li-h J-nes would ere long exchange that honored name for one not less esteemed.

When Abel returned from the levee he threw himself into his chair, and said, aloud,

“Isn’t a man lucky who is well paid for doing just what he meant to do?”

For Abel Newt intended to get all he could from the Grant, and to enjoy himself as fully as possible while getting it; but he had his own work to do, and to that his power was devoted.  To make a telling speech upon the winning side was one of his plans, and accordingly he made it.