Time passed, but Rose Stillwater did not make her promised visit.

Old Aaron often referred to it, and worried his wife to write to her and remind her of her promise.  The old lady always complied with her husband’s requirements, and wrote pressing letters; but the beauty always wrote back excusing herself on the ground of “the captain’s” many engagements, which confined him to the ship and her to his side.

So time passed, and nearly another year went by.  The Rockharrts were still at Rockhold.

A political crisis was at hand—­the election for the State legislature.

The candidate for representative of the liberal party in that election district was Regulas Rothsay.

The election day came at length, as anxious a day for Cora Haught as for any one.

It was a grand success, a glorious triumph for the printer boy and for the workingmen’s cause as well.  Rule Rothsay was elected representative for his district in the State legislature by an overwhelming majority.

Cora was destined to a joyful surprise the next morning, when the domestic autocrat suddenly announced: 

“I shall take the family to my town house on the first of next week.  My last bill, which was defeated last year, may be passed this session.”

Cora now, on the Irishman’s principle of pulling the pig backward if you want him to go forward, ventured on the assurance of counseling her grandfather by saying: 

“I would not approach Mr. Rothsay on the subject of this bill, if I were you, sir.”

“But you are not I, miss!” exclaimed the old man, opening his eyes wide to stare her down.  “And the new man is the very one to whom I shall first speak.  He is the most proper person to present the bill.  He represents my own district.  His election is largely due to the men in my own employ.  I am surprised that you should presume to advise upon matters of which you can know nothing whatever.”

Cora bowed to the rebuke, but did not mind it in the least, since now she felt sure of meeting Rule Rothsay in town.

On the following Monday the Rockharrts went to town.

Mr. Rockharrt met and compared notes with some of the lobbyists.

One veteran lobbyist gave him what he called the key to the riddle of success.

“You appealed to reason and conscience!” said he.  “My dear sir, you should have appealed to their stomachs and pockets.  You should have given them epicurean feasts, and put money in your ‘purse’ to be transferred to theirs!”

“Bribery and corruption!  I would lose my bill forever!  And I would see the legislature—­exterminated, before I would pay one cent to get a vote,” said the Iron King.  And he used a much stronger as well as much shorter word than the one underscored; but let it pass.

As soon as the morning papers announced—­among other arrivals—­that of the new assemblyman, the Hon. Regulas Rothsay, Aaron Rockharrt sought out the young legislator, and explained that he wished to get a charter for a railroad that he wished to build.  The company—­all responsible men—­had been incorporated some time, but he had never succeeded in getting a charter from the legislature.