“May be three, may be four,” said the Colonel, “it’s worth more than the bank of England.”

“If they will not lease,” said Washington, “let ’em make it two millions for an undivided half.  I’m not going to throw it away, not the whole of it.”

Harry told the Colonel that they must drive the thing through, he couldn’t be dallying round Washington when Spring opened.  Phil wanted him, Phil had a great thing on hand up in Pennsylvania.

“What is that?” inquired the Colonel, always ready to interest himself in anything large.

“A mountain of coal; that’s all.  He’s going to run a tunnel into it in the Spring.”

“Does he want any capital?”, asked the Colonel, in the tone of a man who is given to calculating carefully before he makes an investment.

“No.  Old man Bolton’s behind him.  He has capital, but I judged that he wanted my experience in starting.”

“If he wants me, tell him I’ll come, after Congress adjourns.  I should like to give him a little lift.  He lacks enterprise—­now, about that Columbus River.  He doesn’t see his chances.  But he’s a good fellow, and you can tell him that Sellers won’t go back on him.”

“By the way,” asked Harry, “who is that rather handsome party that’s hanging ’round Laura?  I see him with her everywhere, at the Capitol, in the horse cars, and he comes to Dilworthy’s.  If he weren’t lame, I should think he was going to run off with her.”

“Oh, that’s nothing.  Laura knows her business.  He has a cotton claim.  Used to be at Hawkeye during the war.

“Selby’s his name, was a Colonel.  Got a wife and family.  Very respectable people, the Selby’s.”

“Well, that’s all right,” said Harry, “if it’s business.  But if a woman looked at me as I’ve seen her at Selby, I should understand it.  And it’s talked about, I can tell you.”

Jealousy had no doubt sharpened this young gentleman’s observation.  Laura could not have treated him with more lofty condescension if she had been the Queen of Sheba, on a royal visit to the great republic.  And he resented it, and was “huffy” when he was with her, and ran her errands, and brought her gossip, and bragged of his intimacy with the lovely creature among the fellows at Newspaper Row.

Laura’s life was rushing on now in the full stream of intrigue and fashionable dissipation.  She was conspicuous at the balls of the fastest set, and was suspected of being present at those doubtful suppers that began late and ended early.  If Senator Dilworthy remonstrated about appearances, she had a way of silencing him.  Perhaps she had some hold on him, perhaps she was necessary to his plan for ameliorating the condition the tube colored race.

She saw Col.  Selby, when the public knew and when it did not know.  She would see him, whatever excuses he made, and however he avoided her.  She was urged on by a fever of love and hatred and jealousy, which alternately possessed her.  Sometimes she petted him, and coaxed him and tried all her fascinations.  And again she threatened him and reproached him.  What was he doing?  Why had he taken no steps to free himself?  Why didn’t he send his wife home?  She should have money soon.  They could go to Europe—­anywhere.  What did she care for talk?