“She ought not to carry that,” he thought. A great wave of sympathy swept over him. He took her cheeks between his hands, this time in a superior and more generous way. “Never mind, little girl,” he said. “You won’t have to do this always. I’ll see what I can do.” The outcome of this was simply a more sympathetic relationship between them. He did not hesitate to ask her to sit beside him on the arm of his chair the next time she came, and to question her intimately about the family’s condition and her own desires. Several times he noticed that she was evading his questions, particularly in regard to what her father was doing. She was ashamed to own that he was sawing wood. Fearing lest something more serious was impending, he decided to go out some day and see for himself. This he did when a convenient morning presented itself and his other duties did not press upon him. It was three days before the great fight in the Legislature began which ended in his defeat. Nothing could be done in these few remaining days. So he took his cane and strolled forth, coming to the cottage in the course of a half hour, and knocked boldly at the door. Mrs. Gerhardt opened it. “Good-morning,” he said, cheerily; then, seeing her hesitate, he added, “May I come in?” The good mother, who was all but overcome by his astonishing presence, wiped her hands furtively upon her much-mended apron, and, seeing that he waited for a reply, said: “Oh yes. Come right in.” She hurried forward, forgetting to close the door, and, offering him a chair, asked him to be seated. Brander, feeling sorry that he was the occasion of so much confusion, said: “Don’t trouble yourself, Mrs. Gerhardt. I was passing and thought I’d come in. How is your husband?” “He’s well, thank you,” returned the mother. “He’s out working to-day.” “Then he has found employment?” “Yes, sir,” said Mrs. Gerhardt, who hesitated, like Jennie, to say what it was. “The children are all well now, and in school, I hope?” “Yes,” replied Mrs. Gerhardt. She had now unfastened her apron, and was nervously turning it in her lap. “That’s good, and where is Jennie?” The latter, who had been ironing, had abandoned the board and had concealed herself in the bedroom, where she was busy tidying herself in the fear that her mother would not have the forethought to say that she was out, and so let her have a chance for escape. “She’s here,” returned the mother. “I’ll call her.” “What did you tell him I was here for?” said Jennie, weakly. “What could I do?” asked the mother. Together they hesitated while the Senator surveyed the room. He felt sorry to think that such deserving people must suffer so; he intended, in a vague way, to ameliorate their condition if possible. “Good-morning,” the Senator said to Jennie, when finally she came hesitatingly into the room. “How do you do to-day?”