"Just what I say. Not a vote will be lost to the party in the Senate as the state legislature is ours, but I must go, and go quickly." The Secretary began an impetuous argument but presently stopped, saying: "I fear it is useless for me to reason with you. A Berserker madness possesses you." "It is a question of honour," replied Senator March. The Secretary of State, who had been walking about the room eyeing Senator March, went up to him and offered his hand. "It is useless for me to remain," he said. "I think I know the truth of the business, and perhaps I should act just as you are acting. Good-bye." He grasped Senator March’s hand, and the two men, looking into each other’s eyes, understood perfectly. If Senator March had been guilty, as he proclaimed, the Secretary of State was not the man to offer him a hand. Meanwhile, in these eventful hours, at the White House, and at every other political centre in Washington, the agitation was profound, nor was it confined to those who had a direct interest in Senator March’s downfall. That night there was a large dinner at the British Embassy, and although the subject of Senator March was uppermost in every mind little was said about it, and that with bated breath. It was too astounding and not to be intelligently discussed until Senator March had been heard. The general belief was not far from the real truth. When the last guest was gone, Sir Percy and his wife went to Lady Carlyon’s own sitting-room. It was the first moment they had been alone together since they had seen the startling news in the evening journal. As they entered the room, Lady Carlyon gave her husband his favourite chair, and drew the lamp shade so that the light should not vex him--all those graceful little attentions which are so soothing to a wearied and perplexed man. She knew by intuition what his first words would be. "It seems to me," he said, "as if I had brought about this whole frightful catastrophe, as I introduced Senator March to Alicia Vernon. But for me, and for my folly and bad conduct sixteen years ago, Alicia Vernon and Senator March would probably never have met. All the consequences ought to have fallen upon me, but you see they don’t, they fall upon the man who is the soul of truth and honour, and wreck him while I sit in peace by my own fireside with you." Lady Carlyon, being a true woman, would rather the consequences of her husband’s early misdoing should fall anywhere than on him, and with a woman’s conception or misconception of abstract justice said so to Sir Percy. He felt, however, as if the Fates and Furies had fallen upon the wrong man. Lady Carlyon combated this with tender sophistry, which did not convince her husband. "At all events," she said, "Senator March is an innocent man, and can no doubt disprove all these things. I should like to hear his disclaimer. Would there be any objection to my going to the Senate chamber, for of course the matter will be taken up at once?"