“Last night in Washington Congressman Douglas Briggs, of New York, gave a ball to celebrate the opening of his new house. It is said that the house alone cost twenty-five thousand dollars. It is furnished in a style that only a rich man could afford. Six years ago Congressman Briggs went to Washington without a dollar, to devote himself to political affairs, practically abandoning his growing law-practice. He has apparently found politics profitable. Funny world!” Helen read the paragraph rapidly; then she read it more slowly. On finishing, she sat motionless for a few moments. Finally, she placed the paper carefully on the top of the pile. She rose and walked to the window. She heard Miss Munroe come downstairs with the children. She had an impulse to go out into the hall and bid them good-bye, but she checked it; she wished to speak to no one for a few moments. She went back to the table and read the paragraph again. Then she placed the paper in the centre of the pile. She would not allow herself to think why she did that. She heard a servant pass through the hall, and she called that she would have luncheon served in an hour. During the interval she busied herself feverishly, but she could not keep from thinking about that paragraph. Of course, Douglas would see it. Perhaps he had seen it already. She remembered now that Guy usually clipped from the papers all references to her husband. He had left the papers on the table to look them over on his return with Fanny. The clippings he pasted in the big black scrapbooks that Douglas kept on one of the lower shelves, under his law-books. She was tempted to look through these scrapbooks now to see if they contained any references like the one she had just read. But she felt ashamed. After luncheon Helen drove to The Shoreham, where the Burrells had lived since coming to Washington. Carrie Cora was the first to receive her. “I’ve had the hardest work keeping ma at home,” she said. “I didn’t want to let her know I knew you were coming. That would have spoiled everything. It’s just lovely of you to come! Gladys and Emeline have gone to the Philharmonic concert, and pa’s up to the House.” Mrs. Burrell presently made a vociferous entrance. She was one of those women who do everything noisily. “Well, if this isn’t good of you, to come just after that party of yours! I should think you’d be all beat out.” “I’ve come to take you for a drive,” Helen explained. Mrs. Burrell slapped her dress with both hands. It was a shimmering brown silk of fashionable cut, that looked somehow as if it did not belong to her. “I don’t believe I’m fit,” she said. “Oh, yes, you are, ma,” Carrie Cora urged. “Please go.” “We’ll go out into the country somewhere,” said Helen. “So it don’t make any difference what you wear,” Carrie Cora chimed in.