“Joseph! You are not in evening clothes!” wailed his mother. “And Pauline is waiting for you to take her to the Walbridge dance.” “I forgot the beastly thing,” grumbled Joe, sauntering over to a chair. “I’ve been so busy today.” “Same old business, Joe?” questioned Pauline significantly, scanning his rumpled appearance with no kindly eye. “Really, father will be deeply interested to hear you are so engrossed in the pursuit of pleasure.” “Cut it out,” admonished her brother roughly. “I’ve stood all I’m going to from you.” “Stop this bickering, instantly,” commanded Mrs. Calhoun-Cooper. “And you, Joseph, go upstairs at once and change your clothes. If you don’t,” meeting the mutinous glare with which he favored her, “I shall telephone at once to the Capitol and report your conduct to your father. You know what _that_ means,” with marked emphasis. Joe knew only too well. Spoiled and indulged by a silly mother, bullied by Pauline, the only person he held in wholesome awe was his father. Some of his indiscretions had been exploited in the newspapers, and before coming to Washington, his father had lain down a cast-iron rule for him to follow in the future. Joe moved uneasily in his chair. “There’s no occasion for you and Pauline to get excited,” he protested. “It won’t take me ten minutes to shift into my dress suit.” “Take time enough to make yourself presentable,” cautioned Pauline. “I’m particular as to the appearance of my escorts.” “One wouldn’t guess it, judging from the men you have hanging around,” sneered Joe, wrath overcoming discretion. “That will do,” Mrs. Calhoun-Cooper stamped her foot. “Joseph, go at once to your room; the car is already waiting for you and Pauline.” Muttering uncomplimentary remarks under his breath, Joe started for the door. Passing his father’s desk his eyes fell on a pile of apparently unopened letters awaiting Representative Calhoun-Cooper’s return from the Capitol where he had been detained since noon. Recognizing the handwriting on the topmost envelope, Joe’s flushed face paled, and a slight shiver ran down his back. Pauline, intent on arranging a corsage bouquet, paid no further attention to her brother, and Mrs. Calhoun-Cooper was equally absorbed in watching her. Joe paused a moment in indecision; then leaned over and palmed the letter with neatness and dispatch.