That was one of the things that was oppressing Clara Barton in those days. That was why she was troubled when the wife of a Senator came to see her and ask whether there was such a thing as the Red Cross, and what it was, and why it was opposing another organization of which the Senator’s wife was a member. That was why she was worried when the Chairman of the Committee on Foreign Relations grew strangely distant. But she went to hear Mr. Blaine, and she met prominent people, some of whom knew her. Two days later she had confidential tidings that the Senate Foreign Relations Committee had _unanimously_ approved the treaty, and that it would doubtless be discussed in executive session of the Senate on the following Tuesday. But it hung on for another month, a month through which it was hard for her to go, but through which she went bravely. On Thursday, March 16, she felt as though hope was almost hopeless. She “had no heart to speak” that day; “had more tears than words.” “It has been a sad day.” She wrote these words that evening, “weary and heart-sick”; but at this point was interrupted by a note from Senator Lapham. The note will bear printing: U.S. SENATE CHAMBER WASHINGTON, March 16, 1882 MISS BARTON: I have the gratifying privilege of informing you of the ratification by the Senate of the Geneva Convention; of the full assent of the United States to the same, by the action of the Senate this afternoon. I had the injunction of secrecy removed so that it could be published at once. The whole is in print, and if I get time I will send you some copies in the morning. I go home to-morrow to be gone a week. LAUS DEO! Very truly E. S. LAPHAM It ought to have brought her joy; but she wrote: I had waited so long, and was so weak and broken, I could not even feel glad. I laid down the letter, and wiped my tired eyes. Before she got to bed she had another sad tale to hear, of dissensions among those who should have been rejoicing with her, but were displeased. And she went to bed ill.