ad promised to bring John to-day and introduce him. He had been
prattling like a fool about this older brother. He wished to God now
something would keep him. The pangs of jealousy had already began to
gnaw at the thought of her hand resting in his.

From the way Betty Winter had laughed she was quite capable of flying
two strings to her bow. And with all the keener interest because
they happened to be brothers. Why had she asked him so pointedly
about John? He had excited her curiosity, of course, by his silly
brother--hero-worship. He had told her of his brilliant career in New
York under Horace Greeley on the _Tribune_--of Greeley's personal
interest, and the flattering letter he had written to Colonel Forney,
which had made him the city editor of the New Party organ in
Washington--of his cool heroism the night the mob had attacked the
_Republican_ office--and last he had hinted of an affair over a woman in
New York that had led to a challenge and a bloodless duel--bloodless
because his opponent failed to appear. It was his own fault, of course,
if Betty was keeping him at arm's length to-day. No girl could fail to
be interested in such a man--no matter who her father might be--Puritan
or Cavalier.

His arm trembled in spite of his effort at self-control as he led her
down the stately steps of the eastern facade toward the Inaugural
platform. He paused on the edge of the boards and pointed to the huge
bronze figure of the statue of Liberty which had been cast to crown the
dome of the Capitol. It lay prostrate in the mud and the crowds were
climbing over it.

"I wonder if Miss Liberty will ever be lifted to her place on high?" he
said musingly.

"If they do finish the dome," Betty replied, "and crown it with that
bronze, my father should sue for damages. One of his most eloquent
figures of speech will be ruined. That prostrate work of art lying in
the mud has given thousands of votes to the Republicans. I've caught
myself crying over his eloquence at times myself."

Ned Vaughan smiled:

"A queer superstition has grown up in Washington that the dome of the
Capitol will never be completed----"

"Do you believe it?"

"No. It will be finished. But I'm not sure whether Abraham Lincoln or
Jefferson Davis will preside on that occasion."

"And I haven't the slightest doubt on that point," Betty said with quick
emphasis.

"I thought you were not a student of politics?" he dryly observed.

"I'm not. It's just a f