"Not the first time either. Mrs. Davis told me that when the Senator was so ill with neuralgia and came near losing his sight, Seward came every day, sat in the darkened room and talked for hours to his enemy--" "That's because he's a Black Republican. Their ways are dark. They like rooms with the shades pulled down--" "Anyhow he likes Mr. Davis." "Well, it's good-by to the old Union--how many Senators are going to-day?" "Yulee and Mallory from Florida, Clay and Fitzpatrick from Alabama and Senator Davis--" "All in a day?" "Yes--" "Jennie, they'll talk their heads off. It'll be three o'clock before the first one finishes. We'll die. Let's go to Mt. Vernon--" "Dick Welford, I'm ashamed of you. You've no patriotism at all--" "And I just proposed a pilgrimage to the home of George Washington!" "You don't care what happens in the Senate Chamber to-day--" "No--I don't." The boy's lazy figure slowly rose, mounted the steps, paused and looked down into the tense eager young face. "You really want to know," he began slowly, "why speaking tires me now?" "Yes--why?" "Because it's a waste of breath--we're going to fight!" The girl flushed with excitement. "Who told you? What have you heard? Who said so?" A dreamy look in the boy's eyes deepened. "Nobody's told me. I just know. It's in the air. A wild duck knows when to go north. A bluebird knows when to move south. It's in the air. That's the way I know--" his voice dropped. "Let's go to Mt. Vernon and spend the day, Jennie--" The girl looked up sharply. The low persuasive tones were unmistakable. The faintest flush mantled her cheeks. "No--I wouldn't miss those speeches for anything. You promised to take me to the Senate gallery. Come on." With a quick bound the boy scaled the next flight of steps and looked down at her laughing: "All right, why don't _you_ come on!" With a frown she sprang up the stone stairs and he caught her step with a sudden military salute. They walked in silence for a few minutes. "What's the matter with you to-day, Dick Welford?" "Why, Miss Jennie Barton?" "I never saw you quite so foolish." "Maybe it's because I never saw you quite so pretty--" The little figure stiffened with dignity. "That will do now, sir--" "Yessum!" She threw him a look of quiet scorn as they picked their way through the piles of building material for the unfinished dome of the Capitol and mounted the steps. Barely half past seven o'clock and the crowds were pouring into the Senate Chamber, its cloak rooms and galleries. Within thirty minutes after they had found seats opposite the diplomatic gallery every inch of space in the great hall was jammed and packed. Southern women and their escorts outnumbered the others five to one. The Southern wing of official Washington was out in force. The tense electric atmosphere was oppressive.