“Well, I have a brother-in-law—­”

“That same old brother-in-law, you good unselfish provider!  I have heard of him often, through my agents.  How regularly he does ‘turn up,’ to be sure.  He could deal with those millions virtuously, and withal with ability, too—­but of course you would rather he had a salaried position?”

“Oh, no,” said the gentleman, facetiously, “we are very humble, very humble in our desires; we want no money; we labor solely, for our country and require no reward but the luxury of an applauding conscience.  Make him one of those poor hard working unsalaried corporators and let him do every body good with those millions—­and go hungry himself!  I will try to exert a little influence in favor of the bill.”

Arrived at home, Mr. Trollop sat down and thought it all over—­something after this fashion:  it is about the shape it might have taken if he had spoken it aloud.

“My reputation is getting a little damaged, and I meant to clear it up brilliantly with an exposure of this bill at the supreme moment, and ride back into Congress on the eclat of it; and if I had that bit of manuscript, I would do it yet.  It would be more money in my pocket in the end, than my brother-in-law will get out of that incorporatorship, fat as it is.  But that sheet of paper is out of my reach—­she will never let that get out of her hands.  And what a mountain it is!  It blocks up my road, completely.  She was going to hand it to me, once.  Why didn’t she!  Must be a deep woman.  Deep devil!  That is what she is; a beautiful devil—­and perfectly fearless, too.  The idea of her pinning that paper on a man and standing him up in the rotunda looks absurd at a first glance.  But she would do it!  She is capable of doing anything.  I went there hoping she would try to bribe me—­good solid capital that would be in the exposure.  Well, my prayer was answered; she did try to bribe me; and I made the best of a bad bargain and let her.  I am check-mated.  I must contrive something fresh to get back to Congress on.  Very well; a bird in the hand is worth two in the bush; I will work for the bill—­the incorporatorship will be a very good thing.”

As soon as Mr. Trollop had taken his leave, Laura ran to Senator Dilworthy and began to speak, but he interrupted her and said distressfully, without even turning from his writing to look at her: 

“Only half an hour!  You gave it up early, child.  However, it was best, it was best—­I’m sure it was best—­and safest.”

“Give it up!  I!”

The Senator sprang up, all aglow: 

“My child, you can’t mean that you—­”

“I’ve made him promise on honor to think about a compromise tonight and come and tell me his decision in the morning.”

“Good!  There’s hope yet that—­”

Nonsense, uncle.  I’ve made him engage to let the Tennessee Land bill utterly alone!”

“Impossible!  You—­”