CHAPTER XXXII. Washington’s delight in his beautiful sister was measureless. He said that she had always been the queenliest creature in the land, but that she was only commonplace before, compared to what she was now, so extraordinary was the improvement wrought by rich fashionable attire. “But your criticisms are too full of brotherly partiality to be depended on, Washington. Other people will judge differently.” “Indeed they won’t. You’ll see. There will never be a woman in Washington that can compare with you. You’ll be famous within a fortnight, Laura. Everybody will want to know you. You wait — you’ll see.” Laura wished in her heart that the prophecy might come true; and privately she even believed it might — for she had brought all the women whom she had seen since she left home under sharp inspection, and the result had not been unsatisfactory to her. During a week or two Washington drove about the city every day with her and familiarized her with all of its salient features. She was beginning to feel very much at home with the town itself, and she was also fast acquiring ease with the distinguished people she met at the Dilworthy table, and losing what little of country timidity she had brought with her from Hawkeye. She noticed with secret pleasure the little start of admiration that always manifested itself in the faces of the guests when she entered the drawing-room arrayed in evening costume: she took comforting note of the fact that these guests directed a very liberal share of their conversation toward her; she observed with surprise, that famous statesmen and soldiers did not talk like gods, as a general thing, but said rather commonplace things for the most part; and she was filled with gratification to discover that she, on the contrary, was making a good many shrewd speeches and now and then a really brilliant one, and furthermore, that they were beginning to be repeated in social circles about the town. Congress began its sittings, and every day or two Washington escorted her to the galleries set apart for lady members of the households of Senators and Representatives. Here was a larger field and a wider competition, but still she saw that many eyes were uplifted toward her face, and that first one person and then another called a neighbor’s attention to her; she was not too dull to perceive that the speeches of some of the younger statesmen were delivered about as much and perhaps more at her than to the presiding officer; and she was not sorry to see that the dapper young Senator from Iowa came at once and stood in the open space before the president’s desk to exhibit his feet as soon as she entered the gallery, whereas she had early learned from common report that his usual custom was to prop them on his desk and enjoy them himself with a selfish disregard of other people’s longings. Invitations began to flow in upon her and soon she was fairly “in society.” “The season” was now in full bloom, and the first select reception was at hand — that is to say, a reception confined to invited guests. Senator Dilworthy had become well convinced, by this time, that his judgment of the country-bred Missouri girl had not deceived him — it was plain that she was going to be a peerless missionary in the field of labor he designed her for, and therefore it would be perfectly safe and likewise judicious to send her forth well panoplied for her work. — So he had added new and still richer costumes to her wardrobe, and assisted their attractions with costly jewelry — loans on the future land sale. This first select reception took place at a cabinet minister’s — or rather a cabinet secretary’s mansion. When Laura and the Senator arrived, about half past nine or ten in the evening, the place was already pretty well crowded, and the white-gloved negro servant at the door was still receiving streams of guests. — The drawing-rooms were brilliant with gaslight, and as hot as ovens. The host and hostess stood just within the door of entrance; Laura was presented, and then she passed on into the maelstrom of bejeweled and richly attired low-necked ladies and white-kid-gloved and steel pen-coated gentlemen and wherever she moved she was followed by a buzz of admiration that was grateful to all her senses — so grateful, indeed, that her white face was tinged and its beauty heightened by a perceptible suffusion of color. She caught such remarks as, “Who is she?” “Superb woman!” “That is the new beauty from the west,” etc., etc. Whenever she halted, she was presently surrounded by Ministers, Generals, Congressmen, and all manner of aristocratic people. Introductions followed, and then the usual original question, “How do you like Washington, Miss Hawkins?” supplemented by that other usual original question, “Is this your first visit?” These two exciting topics being exhausted, conversation generally drifted into calmer channels, only to be interrupted at frequent intervals by new introductions and new inquiries as to how Laura liked the capital and whether it was her first visit or not. And thus for an hour or more the Duchess moved through the crush in a rapture of happiness, for her doubts were dead and gone, now she knew she could conquer here. A familiar face appeared in the midst of the multitude and Harry Brierly fought his difficult way to her side, his eyes shouting their gratification, so to speak: “Oh, this is a happiness! Tell me, my dear Miss Hawkins — ” “Sh! I know what you are going to ask. I do like Washington — I like it ever so much!” “No, but I was going to ask — ” “Yes, I am coming to it, coming to it as fast as I can. It is my first visit. I think you should know that yourself.” And straightway a wave of the crowd swept her beyond his reach. “Now what can the girl mean? Of course she likes Washington — I’m not such a dummy as to have to ask her that. And as to its being her first visit, why bang it, she knows that I knew it was. Does she think I have turned idiot? Curious girl, anyway. But how they do swarm about her! She is the reigning belle of Washington after this night. She’ll know five hundred of the heaviest guns in the town before this night’s nonsense is over. And this isn’t even the beginning. Just as I used to say — she’ll be a card in the matter of — yes sir! She shall turn the men’s heads and I’ll turn the women’s! What a team that will be in politics here. I wouldn’t take a quarter of a million for what I can do in this present session — no indeed I wouldn’t. Now, here — I don’t altogether like this. That insignificant secretary of legation is — why, she’s smiling on him as if he — and now on the Admiral! Now she’s illuminating that stuffy Congressman from Massachusetts — vulgar ungrammatcal shovel-maker — greasy knave of spades. I don’t like this sort of thing. She doesn’t appear to be much distressed about me — she hasn’t looked this way once. All right, my bird of Paradise, if it suits you, go on. But I think I know your sex. I’ll go to smiling around a little, too, and see what effect that will have on you.” And he did “smile around a little,” and got as near to her as he could to watch the effect, but the scheme was a failure — he could not get her attention. She seemed wholly unconscious of him, and so he could not flirt with any spirit; he could only talk disjointedly; he could not keep his eyes on the charmers he talked to; he grew irritable, jealous, and very unhappy. He gave up his enterprise, leaned his shoulder against a fluted pilaster and pouted while he kept watch upon Laura’s every movement. His other shoulder stole the bloom from many a lovely cheek that brushed him in the surging crush, but he noted it not. He was too busy cursing himself inwardly for being an egotistical imbecile. An hour ago he had thought to take this country lass under his protection and show her “life” and enjoy her wonder and delight — and here she was, immersed in the marvel up to her eyes, and just a trifle more at home in it than he was himself. And now his angry comments ran on again: “Now she’s sweetening old Brother Balaam; and he — well he is inviting her to the Congressional prayer-meeting, no doubt — better let old Dilworthy alone to see that she doesn’t overlook that. And now its Splurge, of New York; and now its Batters of New Hampshire — and now the Vice President! Well I may as well adjourn. I’ve got enough.”
