The galleries and floors of the House of Representatives were crowded, as was usual upon early working days of the session.  Among the members in a retired seat his red shock of hair, clerical dress, and thin, worn, commonplace, freckled face denoted the new member from the Scotch district of Pennsylvania.  The gay daughter of the Honorable Perkiomen Trappe, picking him out from the diplomatic gallery by the aid of her opera-glass, remarked that she mourned for her country when Europe could behold such a specimen of homespun among American Congressmen.

“And what’s more, pet,” said the Honorable Perkiomen, “he’s a bin put on a fat committee.  He has the cheer in the room on Ancient Contracts, and your unfortnit father is only a member under him.  I think that staving cavalry brother of his’n, Elk MacNair, fixed his feed for him!”

They turned to look at Elk MacNair, sitting in the gallery near by with the venerable Judge and the Judge’s daughter.  His dark goatee, eyes, and hair, were set in a face unusually pale and intense, and his manly and refined worldly bearing suited his associations.  Kate Dunlevy, with her charms of bloom, repose, and stateliness, looked like the wife of such a public man.

“Elk,” said she, “you do not seem to be at ease to-day.  You are pale and nervous, and you have stared down there at your brother’s seat till people are taking notice of you.”

“I am suffering a little, Kitty; that is all.  My case comes up within five minutes, and I might as well blow my head off if it shall stick anywhere.”

His eyes seemed to flame out with a reckless light as he said this.

“Arthur has a sick look as well,” said Kate.  “This public life is too exciting for him.  See how nervously he sips that glass of water.”

“Sick!” exclaimed Elk MacNair, with a voice of bitterness, yet with a melancholy glance of admiration in the direction of the Congressman; “he is more dangerous than sick.  His will is sublime, Kate; nothing can soften it, not even pity.”

The committees were now being called by the Speaker, and chairman after chairman rose to make his report.  As the list diminished more and more, and the Committee upon Ancient Contracts approached its turn, there were no two such livid, deathly faces in all the crowded house as these two brothers wore.  Elk MacNair’s had a settled ferocity.  The youthfulness and comely moods were gone from it, and the burnt-out countenance of a man of the world looked dead and ashen above the exhausted reservoirs of a diseased mind.  Nothing was left but the last chance before despair, and apprehensive of the failure of this hope also, his gloved hand, resting upon a pocket hidden at his hip, sought support from the hilt of a pistol secreted there.  Was this the meaning of the sullen and ghastly determination glaring from his eyes?  Yes, love and death were almost mated; and so in every busy Congress do the spectres of temptation and ill-omen lurk in wait.