bide his time for revenge.
Booming cannon celebrated the result of the proceedings, and Selma,
waiting at home on the River Drive, received a telegram from the capital
announcing the glad news. Her husband was United States Senator, and the
future stretched before her big with promise. She had battled with life,
she had suffered, she had held fast to her principles, and at last she
was rewarded.

Lyons returned to Benham by the afternoon train, and a salute of one
hundred guns greeted him on his arrival. He walked from the station like
any private citizen. Frequent cheers attended his progress to his house.
In the evening the shops and public buildings were illuminated, and the
James O. Lyons Cadets, who considered themselves partly responsible for
his rapid promotion, led a congratulatory crowd to the River Drive. The
Senator-elect, in response to the music of a serenade, stepped out on
the balcony. Selma waited behind the window curtain until the enthusiasm
had subsided; then she glided forth and showed herself at his elbow. A
fresh round of cheers for the Senator's wife followed. It was a glorious
night. The moon shone brightly. The street was thronged by the populace,
and glittered with the torches of the cadets. Lyons stood bareheaded.
His large, round, smooth face glistened, and the moonbeams, bathing his
chin beard, gave him the effect of a patriarch, or of one inspired. He
raised his hand to induce silence, then stood for a moment, as was his
habit before speaking, with an expression as though he were struggling
with emotion or busy in silent prayer.

"Fellow citizens of Benham," he began, slowly, "compatriots of the
sovereign State which has done me to-day so great an honor, I thank you
for this precious greeting. You are my constituents and my brothers. I
accept from your hands this great trust of office, knowing that I am but
your representative, knowing that my mission is to bear constant witness
to the love of liberty, the love of progress, the love of truth which
are enshrined in the hearts of the great American people. Your past has
been ever glorious; your future looms big with destiny. Still leaning on
the God of our fathers, to whom our patriot sires have ever turned, and
whose favors to our beloved country are seen in your broad prairies tall
with fruitful grain, and your mighty engines of commerce, I take up the
work which you have given me to do, pledged to remain a democrat of the
democrats, an A