to forestall Mrs. Carriswood's sure revelations--oh, Tommy was not a
politician for nothing!

"Besides," Margaret went on, with the same note of repressed feeling in
her voice, "his is a good family, if they have decayed; his ancestor was
Lord Fitzmaurice in King James's time."

"She takes HIM seriously too!" thought Mrs. Carriswood, with
inexpressible consternation; "what SHALL I say to her mother?"

Strange to say, perhaps, considering that she was so frankly a woman of
the world, her stub-bornest objection to Tommy was not an objection of
expediency. She had insensibly grown to take his success for granted,
like the rest of the Washington world; he would be a governor, a
senator, he might be--anything! And he was perfectly presentable, now;
no, it would be on the whole an investment in the future that would pay
well enough; his parents would be awkward, but they were old people, not
likely to be too much _en evidence_.

Mrs. Carriswood, while not overjoyed, would not feel crushed by such a
match, but she did view what she regarded as Tommy's moral instability,
with a dubious and fearful eye. He was earnest enough for his new
principles now; but what warrant was there of his sincerity? Margaret
and her mother were high-minded women. It was the gallant knight of her
party and her political faith that the girl admired, the valiant fight,
not the triumph! No mere soldier of fortune, no matter how successful
or how brilliant, could win her; if Tommy were the mercenary, not the
knight, no worldly glory could compensate his wife.

Wherefore, after a bad quarter of an hour reflecting on these things,
Mrs. Carriswood went to the Capitol, resolved to take her goddaughter
away. She would not withdraw her acceptance of the Beatouns' invitation,
no; let the Iowa congressman have every opportunity to display his
social shortcomings in contrast with the accomplished Russian, and Jack
Turner, the most elegant man in the army; the next day would be time
enough for a telegram and a sudden flitting. Yet in the midst of her
plans for Tommy's discomfiture she was assailed by a queer regret and
reluctance. Tommy's fascination had affected even a professional critic
of life; he had been so amusing, so willing, so trusting, so useful,
that her chill interest had warmed into liking. She felt a moving of
the heart as the handsome black head arose, and the first notes of that
resonant, thrilling voice swelled above the din on the floor.