“You'll not get much comfort in my State, Mr. French,” growled the senator from Pennsylvania, with a sneer; “suppose you come and try.” “Well, well!” said the benevolent Mr. Schuyler Clinton, gleaming benignantly through his gold spectacles; “don't be too hard on French. He means well. Perhaps he's not very wise, but he does good. I know more about it than any of you, and I don't deny that the thing is all bad. Only, as Mr. Ratcliffe says, the difficulty is in the people, not in us. Go to work on them, French, and let us alone.” French repented of his attack, and contented himself by muttering to Carrington: “What a set of damned old reprobates they are!” “They are right, though, in one thing,” was Carrington's reply: “their advice is good. Never ask one of them to reform anything; if you do, you will be reformed yourself.” The dinner ended as brilliantly as it began, and Schneidekoupon was delighted with his success. He had made himself particularly agreeable to Sybil by confiding in her all his hopes and fears about the tariff and the finances. When the ladies left the table, Ratcliffe could not stay for a cigar; he must get back to his rooms, where he knew several men were waiting for him; he would take his leave of the ladies and hurry away. But when the gentlemen came up nearly an hour afterwards they found Ratcliffe still taking his leave of the ladies, who were delighted at his entertaining conversation; and when at last he really departed, he said to Mrs. Lee, as though it were quite a matter of course: “You are at home as usual to-morrow evening?” Madeleine smiled, bowed, and he went his way. As the two sisters drove home that night, Madeleine was unusually silent. Sybil yawned convulsively and then apologized: “Mr. Schneidekoupon is very nice and good-natured, but a whole evening of him goes a long way; and that horrid Senator Krebs would not say a word, and drank a great deal too much wine, though it couldn't make him any more stupid than he is. I don't think I care for senators.” Then, wearily, after a pause: “Well, Maude, I do hope you've got what you wanted. I'm sure you must have had politics enough. Haven't you got to the heart of your great American mystery yet?” “Pretty near it, I think,” said Madeleine, half to herself. Chapter IV