A waning moon was shining, and a hushed sense of growing life filled the air, for it was nearing spring again. As Jennie hurried along the shadowy streets—the arc light had not yet been invented—she had a sinking sense of fear; what was this rash thing she was about to do? How would the Senator receive her? What would he think? She stood stock-still, wavering and doubtful; then the recollection of Bass in his night cell came over her again, and she hurried on. The character of the Capitol Hotel was such that it was not difficult for a woman to find ingress through the ladies’ entrance to the various floors of the hotel at any hour of the night. The hotel, not unlike many others of the time, was in no sense loosely conducted, but its method of supervision in places was lax. Any person could enter, and, by applying at a rear entrance to the lobby, gain the attention of the clerk. Otherwise not much notice was taken of those who came and went. When she came to the door it was dark save for a low light burning in the entry-way. The distance to the Senator’s room was only a short way along the hall of the second floor. She hurried up the steps, nervous and pale, but giving no other outward sign of the storm that was surging within her. When she came to his familiar door she paused; she feared that she might not find him in his room; she trembled again to think that he might be there. A light shone through the transom, and, summoning all her courage, she knocked. A man coughed and bestirred himself. His surprise as he opened the door knew no bounds. “Why, Jennie!” he exclaimed. “How delightful! I was thinking of you. Come in—come in.” He welcomed her with an eager embrace. “I was coming out to see you, believe me, I was. I was thinking all along how I could straighten this matter out. And now you come. But what’s the trouble?” He held her at arm’s length and studied her distressed face. The fresh beauty of her seemed to him like cut lilies wet with dew. He felt a great surge of tenderness. “I have something to ask you,” she at last brought herself to say. “My brother is in jail. We need ten dollars to get him out, and I didn’t know where else to go.” “My poor child!” he said, chafing her hands. “Where else should you go? Haven’t I told you always to come to me? Don’t you know, Jennie, I would do anything in the world for you?” “Yes,” she gasped. “Well, then, don’t worry about that any more. But won’t fate ever cease striking at you, poor child? How did your brother come to get in jail?” “They caught him throwing coal down from the cars,” she replied.