‘notice it’? What-asleep? Indeed? And did you wake me sir? Thank you — thank you very much indeed. It might have fallen out of my hands and been injured. Admirable article, sir — present from a friend in Hong Kong; one doesn’t come across silk like that in this country — it’s the real — Young Hyson, I’m told.”
By this time the incident was forgotten, for the House was at war again. Victory was almost in sight, now, and the friends of the bill threw themselves into their work with enthusiasm. They soon moved and carried its second reading, and after a strong, sharp fight, carried a motion to go into Committee of the whole. The Speaker left his place, of course, and a chairman was appointed.
Now the contest raged hotter than ever — for the authority that compels order when the House sits as a House, is greatly diminished when it sits as Committee. The main fight came upon the filling of the blanks with the sum to be appropriated for the purchase of the land, of course.
Buckstone — ”Mr. Chairman, I move you, sir, that the words ‘three millions of’ be inserted.”
Mr. Hadley — ”Mr. Chairman, I move that the words two and a half dollars be inserted.”
Mr. Clawson — ”Mr. Chairman, I move the insertion of the words five and twenty cents, as representing the true value of this barren and isolated tract of desolation.”
The question, according to rule, was taken upon the smallest sum first. It was lost.
Then upon the next smallest sum. Lost, also.
And then upon the three millions. After a vigorous battle that lasted a considerable time, this motion was carried.
Then, clause by clause the bill was read, discussed, and amended in trifling particulars, and now the Committee rose and reported.
The moment the House had resumed its functions and received the report, Mr. Buckstone moved and carried the third reading of the bill.
The same bitter war over the sum to be paid was fought over again, and now that the ayes and nays could be called and placed on record, every man was compelled to vote by name on the three millions, and indeed on every paragraph of the bill from the enacting clause straight through. But as before, the friends of the measure stood firm and voted in a solid body every time, and so did its enemies.
The supreme moment was come, now, but so sure was the result that not even a voice was raised to interpose an adjournment. The enemy were totally demoralized. The bill was put upon its final passage almost without dissent, and the calling of the ayes and nays began. When it was ended the triumph was complete — the two-thirds vote held good, and a veto was impossible, as far as the House was concerned!
Mr. Buckstone resolved that now that the nail was driven home, he would clinch it on the other side and make it stay forever. He moved a reconsideration of the vote by which the bill had passed. The motion was lost, of course, and the great Industrial University act was an accomplished fact as far as it was in the power of the House of Representatives to make it so.
There was no need to move an adjournment. The instant the last motion was decided, the enemies of the University rose and flocked out of the Hall, talking angrily, and its friends flocked after them jubilant and congratulatory. The galleries disgorged their burden, and presently the house was silent and deserted.
When Col. Sellers and Washington stepped out of the building they were surprised to find that the daylight was old and the sun well up. Said the Colonel:
“Give me your hand, my boy! You’re all right at last! You’re a millionaire! At least you’re going to be. The thing is dead sure. Don’t you bother about the Senate. Leave me and Dilworthy to take care of that. Run along home, now, and tell Laura. Lord, it’s magnificent news — perfectly magnificent! Run, now. I’ll telegraph my wife. She must come here and help me build a house. Everything’s all right now!”
Washington was so dazed by his good fortune and so bewildered by the gaudy pageant of dreams that was already trailing its long ranks through his brain, that he wandered he knew not where, and so loitered by the way that when at last he reached home he woke to a sudden annoyance in the fact that his news must be old to Laura, now, for of course Senator Dilworthy must have already been home and told her an hour before. He knocked at her door, but there was no answer.
“That is like the Duchess,” said he. “Always cool; a body can’t excite her-can’t keep her excited, anyway. Now she has gone off to sleep again, as comfortably as if she were used to picking up a million dollars every day or two.”
Then he went to bed. But he could not sleep; so he got up and wrote a long, rapturous letter to Louise, and another to his mother. And he closed both to much the same effect:
“Laura will be queen of America, now, and she will be applauded, and honored and petted by the whole nation. Her name will be in every one’s mouth more than ever, and how they will court her and quote her bright speeches. And mine, too, I suppose; though they do that more already, than they really seem to deserve. Oh, the world is so bright, now, and so cheery; the clouds are all gone, our long struggle is ended, our troubles are all over. Nothing can ever make us unhappy any more. You dear faithful ones will have the reward of your patient waiting now. How father’s Wisdom is proven at last! And how I repent me, that there have been times when I lost faith and said, the blessing he stored up for us a tedious generation ago was but a long-drawn curse, a blight upon us all. But everything is well, now — we are done with poverty, sad toil, weariness and heartbreak; all the world is filled with sunshine.”
CHAPTER XLVI.
Philip left the capitol and walked up Pennsylvania Avenue in company with Senator Dilworthy. It was a bright spring morning, the air was soft and inspiring; in the deepening wayside green, the pink flush of the blossoming peach trees, the soft suffusion on the heights of Arlington, and the breath of the warm south wind was apparent, the annual miracle of the resurrection of the earth.
The Senator took off his hat and seemed to open his soul to the sweet influences of the morning. After the heat and noise of the chamber, under its dull gas-illuminated glass canopy, and the all night struggle of passion and feverish excitement there, the open, tranquil world seemed like Heaven. The Senator was not in an exultant mood, but rather in a condition of holy joy, befitting a Christian statesman whose benevolent plans Providence has made its own and stamped with approval. The great battle had been fought, but the measure had still to encounter the scrutiny of the Senate, and Providence sometimes acts differently in the two Houses. Still the Senator was tranquil, for he knew that there is an esprit de corps in the Senate which does not exist in the House, the effect of which is to make the members complaisant towards the projects of each other, and to extend a mutual aid which in a more vulgar body would be called “log-rolling.”
“It is, under Providence, a good night’s work, Mr. Sterling. The government has founded an institution which will remove half the difficulty from the southern problem. And it is a good thing for the Hawkins heirs, a very good thing. Laura will be almost a millionaire.”
“Do you think, Mr. Dilworthy, that the Hawkinses will get much of the money?” asked Philip innocently, remembering the fate of the Columbus River appropriation.
The Senator looked at his companion scrutinizingly for a moment to see if he meant anything personal, and then replied,
“Undoubtedly, undoubtedly. I have had their interests greatly at heart. There will of course be a few expenses, but the widow and orphans will realize all that Mr. Hawkins, dreamed of for them.”
The birds were singing as they crossed the Presidential Square, now bright with its green turf and tender foliage. After the two had gained the steps of the Senator’s house they stood a moment, looking upon the lovely prospect:
“It