"Why, bless you, no!" returned Mrs. Greuze. "That is only one item in the bill that we shall present. You couldn't get a bill through on that one point alone. People can't be depended upon to work unless their own personal interests are concerned. It is a selfish world, my dear." From Mrs. Greuze Margaret went straight to Mrs. Belden. "I thought you did not understand," that lady said. "But now that you do we will put our shoulders to the wheel together." There was inspiration in the ring of her voice. "Yes, as Mrs. Greuze has told you," she went on, "our plan is to canvass the Senate thoroughly and systematically, not in any aggressive way that would antagonize--we are not trying to exploit ourselves--but with a quiet persistency that will secure the votes. I am sure you can be of great service to us just here." "Oh, I wish I could be!" cried Margaret. "You see your case illustrates so perfectly the atrocious medieval character of some of our laws. Your story will only have to be told to furnish the argument. They cannot say to you as they have said to us, 'Oh, these laws are a dead letter.' In you, my child, we have a living witness to the fact that they are _not_ a dead letter. Soon after the Christmas recess I hope to have the pleasure of taking you with me to call on Senator Southard, whom we are specially anxious to gain." "I remember him," said Margaret. "I have heard my father speak of him." "Yes. Perhaps other names will come to you in connection with your father." They did. For six years she had put the Senate, the House, and the whole body politic out of view. They had all been obscured by one small child. Now they suddenly assumed gigantic proportions. When she reached the carriage her directions to the coachman surprised him. "To the Capitol," she said. An overwhelming desire was upon her to enter the Senate Chamber again and look that august body over. Was there anybody there now that she would know? Anybody that would know her? As she went into the "ladies' gallery" a tourist in the front row with a guidebook in her hand rose to go. Margaret slipped into the vacated seat and leaned over the rail. It was the first time she had been there since she used to come with her father. Then she always sat in the "reserved gallery."