Jennie, mortified by this correction, fell earnestly to her task, and polished vigorously, without again daring to lift her eyes. With painstaking diligence they worked downward until about five o’clock; it was dark outside, and all the lobby was brightly lighted. Now they were very near the bottom of the stairway. Through the big swinging doors there entered from the chilly world without a tall, distinguished, middle-aged gentleman, whose silk hat and loose military cape-coat marked him at once, among the crowd of general idlers, as some one of importance. His face was of a dark and solemn cast, but broad and sympathetic in its lines, and his bright eyes were heavily shaded with thick, bushy, black eyebrows. Passing to the desk he picked up the key that had already been laid out for him, and coming to the staircase, started up. The middle-aged woman, scrubbing at his feet, he acknowledged not only by walking around her, but by graciously waving his hand, as much as to say, “Don’t move for me.” The daughter, however, caught his eye by standing up, her troubled glance showing that she feared she was in his way. He bowed and smiled pleasantly. “You shouldn’t have troubled yourself,” he said. Jennie only smiled. When he had reached the upper landing an impulsive sidewise glance assured him, more clearly than before, of her uncommonly prepossessing appearance. He noted the high, white forehead, with its smoothly parted and plaited hair. The eyes he saw were blue and the complexion fair. He had even time to admire the mouth and the full cheeks—above all, the well-rounded, graceful form, full of youth, health, and that hopeful expectancy which to the middle-aged is so suggestive of all that is worth begging of Providence. Without another look he went dignifiedly upon his way, but the impression of her charming personality went with him. This was the Hon. George Sylvester Brander, junior Senator. “Wasn’t that a fine-looking man who went up just now?” observed Jennie a few moments later. “Yes, he was,” said her mother. “He had a gold-headed cane.” “You mustn’t stare at people when they pass,” cautioned her mother, wisely. “It isn’t nice.” “I didn’t stare at him,” returned Jennie, innocently. “He bowed to me.” “Well, don’t you pay any attention to anybody,” said her mother. “They may not like it.”