dea of their
associations, their particular interests and their aspirations in
coming to Congress, which proved of much use to him in forming and
promoting acquaintances, all for the glory of Standard Steel.

Senator Holcomb of Missouri told Mrs. Spangler at an afternoon tea
confidentially that he was going to vote against the ship subsidy
bill. Senator Peabody was informed of this two hours later by a note
written in cipher. When the vote was called two days later Senator
Holcomb voted for the bill. Standard Steel supplies steel for ocean
liners, and their building must be encouraged.

Mrs. Windsor, wife of Congressman Windsor of Indiana, remarked to Mrs.
Spangler at a reception that she was "so glad Jimmie is going to do
something for us women at last. He says we ought to get silk gowns
ever so much cheaper next year," Jimmie Windsor was a member of the
House committee on ways and means and was busily engaged in the matter
of tariff revision. When President Anders of the Federal Silk Company
heard from Senator Peabody that Windsor favored lowering the tariff
on silk a way was found to convince the Congressman that the American
silk industry was a weakling, and many investors would suffer if the
foreign goods should be admitted any cheaper than at present.

President Anders would be willing to do Senator Peabody a favor some
day.

Sometimes Cora Spangler shuddered at the thought of what would
become of her if she should make some slip, some fatal error, and be
discovered to her friends as a betrayer of confidences for money.
A secret agent of Standard Steel! What a newspaper story she would
make--"Society Favorite a Paid Spy"; "Woman Lobbyist Flees Capital."
The sensational headlines flitted through her mind. Then she would
grit her teeth and dig her finger nails into her palms. She had to
have money to carry on the life she loved so well. She must continue
as she had begun. After all, she reasoned, nothing definite could ever
be proved regarding the past. Let the future care for itself. She
might marry again and free herself from this mode of life--who knows?

So reasoned Cora Spangler for the hundredth time during the last two
years as she sat in her boudoir at her home. She had spent part of the
day with Carolina and Hope Langdon and in the evening had attended the
musicale at their house. But she had been forced to leave early owing
to a severe headache. Now, after an hour or two of rest, she felt
better and