tions of the
candidate for Congress from the second district, the largest of which
presented his portrait superscribed with the sentiment, "A vote for
James O. Lyons is a vote in support of the liberties of the plain
people." On the opposite end of the canvas was the picture of the king
of beasts, with open jaws and bristling mane, with the motto, "Our
Lyons's might will keep our institutions sacred." In the midst of this
glittering escort the candidate himself rode in an open barouche on his
way to the hall where he was to deliver a final speech. He was bowing to
right and left, and constant cheers marked his progress along the
avenue. Selma leaned forward from the balcony to obtain the earliest
sight of her hero. The rolling applause was a new, intoxicating music in
her ears, and filled her soul with transport. She clapped her hands
vehemently; seized a roman-candle, and amid a blaze of fiery sparks
exploded its colored stars in the direction of the approaching carriage.
Then with the flag slanted across her bosom, she stood waiting for his
recognition. It was made solemnly, but with the unequivocal
demonstration of a cavalier or knight of old, for Lyons stood up, and
doffing his hat toward her, made a conspicuous salute. A salvo of
applause suggested to Selma that the multitude had understood that he
was according to her the homage due a lady-love, and that their cheers
were partly meant for her. She put her hand to her bosom with the
gesture of a queen of melodrama, and culling one from a bunch of roses
Lyons had sent her that afternoon threw it from the balcony at the
carriage. The flower fell almost into the lap of her lover, who clutched
it, pressed it to his lips, and doffed his hat again. The episode had
been visible to many, and a hoarse murmur of interested approval crowned
the performance. The glance of the crowds on the sidewalk was turned
upward, and someone proposed three cheers for the lady in the balcony.
They were given. Selma bowed to either side in delighted acknowledgment,
while the torches of the cadets waved tumultuously, and there was a
fresh outburst of colored fires.

"I can't keep the secret any longer," she exclaimed, turning to her two
companions. "I'm engaged to be married to Mr. Lyons."

CHAPTER V.

Lyons was chosen to Congress by a liberal margin. The Congressional
delegation from his State was almost evenly divided between the two
parties as the result of the election, and the m