"Thank you." He was looking into her eyes again.

"Rather let me thank _you_," she said. "It's so good of you to vote for my measure."

His eyes widened suddenly. He had quite forgotten the resolution. She must have perceived this, for she blushed, and he hastened to make amends.

"I'll not only vote for it," he rushed ahead impulsively, "but I'll make a speech for it." He straightened and leaned away from her to give a proper perspective in which she could admire him. He sat there smiling.

"How splendid of you!" she cried. "I feel encouraged now."

Then Vernon's face lengthened. He stammered: "But you'll have to give me some data; I-I don't know a thing about the subject."

"Oh," she laughed, "I brought some literature. It shall all be at your disposal. And now, I must be about my work. Can you make any suggestions? Can you tell me whom I should see, whom I should interest, who has the-ah-pull, I believe you call it?"

"I'll bring them to you," Vernon said. "You sit here and hold court."

He rose and his eyes swept the chamber. They lighted on Burns, and an idea suddenly came to him. He would revenge himself on Burns for all the slights of the session.

"Of course you'll have to see Sam Porter, but I'll begin by bringing Senator Burns-familiarly known as Bull Burns."

"I've read of him so often in the newspapers," she said. "It would be an experience."

Vernon went over to Burns's seat and touched him on the shoulder.

"Come on," he said in a tone of command, speaking for once from the alt.i.tude of his social superiority. And for once he was successful. The burly fellow from the First District stood up and looked inquiringly.

"Come with me," Vernon said; "there's a Chicago lawyer back here who wants to see you."

Burns followed and an instant later Vernon halted before Miss Greene.

The other men, who had quickly returned to her side, made way, and Vernon said:

"Miss Greene, may I present Senator Burns, of the First District?"

Miss Greene smiled on the big saloon-keeper, who instantly flamed with embarra.s.sment. She gave him her hand, and he took it in his fat palm, carefully, lest he crush it.

"I am delighted to meet Senator Burns; I've heard of you so often," she said, looking up at him. "And do you know I count it a privilege to meet one of your acknowledged influence in our state's affairs?"

Vernon stood back, delighted beyond measure with the confusion into which Burns for once had been betrayed. The senator from the First District was struggling for some word to say, and at last he broke out with:

"Aw now, lady, don't be t'rowin' de con into me."

The men in the little group on that side of the Senate chamber burst out in a laugh, but Burns becoming suddenly grave, and dangerous and terrible in his gravity, they broke off in the very midst of their mirth. The group became silent.

"Really, Senator Burns," said Miss Greene, "this is no-ah-confidence game, I a.s.sure you." She rose with a graceful sweep of her skirts. Then she went on: "If you will permit me, I should like to explain my mission to you. I am down here to ask the Senate to adopt a resolution that will submit an amendment to the Const.i.tution permitting the women of Illinois to vote at all elections, as they vote at school elections now. If you can give it, I should like your support; I should, at least, like to tell you my reasons."

Slowly she seated herself again, saying: "Will you sit down?"

But Burns only stood and looked at her. There was a trace of fear in her face.

"Do _you_ want dis resolution put t'rough?" he asked bluntly.

"I? Indeed I do!" she said.

"Is dere anyt'ing in it fer you?" he went on.

"Why," Miss Greene said, somewhat at a loss, "only that I am interested as a matter of principle in seeing it adopted. It would be a great day for me if I could go back to Chicago feeling that I had had just a little bit to do with such a result."

"Den I'm wit' you," said Burns, and wheeling, he went back to his desk.

Miss Greene watched him a moment, and then turned to the men, their numbers augmented now by others who had come up to see Burns in the presence of such a woman. The glance she gave them was a question.

"Oh, he means it," said Monroe of Whiteside. "He'll vote for the resolution."

"Yes, he's given his word," said Brownell of Cook.

Vernon devoted half an hour to bringing senators to meet Maria Greene.

It was not difficult work, though it had its disadvantages; it did not allow Vernon to remain with her long at a time. But at last it was done, and he found a moment alone with her. She had given him some pamphlets on equal suffrage.

"Ah, if _you_ could only address the Senate!" he exclaimed, in open admiration. And then, as if an inspiration had come to him, he added:

"Perhaps I could arrange it; it has been done."

She gasped and stretched out her hand to stay him.

"Oh, not for all the world!" she protested.

"But you'll come and meet the lieutenant-governor?"

"Up there?" she said, incredulously, pointing to the dais under the flags.

"Why, yes," Vernon answered; "why not? It's where all the eminent lawyers who come down here to lobby sit."

She looked up at the desk behind which the lieutenant-governor sat, swinging gently in his swivel chair, while the secretary read Senate bills on third reading. There was a reluctance in her eyes, but when she caught Vernon's smile, she gathered her skirts and said:

"Well, if I must."

IV

WHILE Miss Greene sat chatting with the lieutenant-governor, who gladly neglected the duties of his high office, Vernon went out into the rotunda, lighted a cigarette, glanced over the pamphlets, and tried to arrange the heads of his speech in his mind.

At the thought of the speech, Vernon grew cold and limp with nervousness. His hands were clammy, his knees trembled, his mouth became dry and parched, and the cigarette he had lighted imparted all at once an evil taste. Yet he smoked on, and as he wandered around the rotunda, men from both houses, pa.s.sing to and fro, greeted him, but they seemed to him to be strange new creatures flitting by in a dream. If he was conscious of them at all it was only as of envied beings, all on a common happy plane, fortunate ones who did not have to make a speech within the hour. He went over to the state library, thinking that its quiet would soothe, but when he stood among the tall stacks of books he suddenly remembered that he must not smoke in those precincts; and so he turned out into the rotunda again, for he must smoke. He walked round and round the rotunda, pausing at times to lean over the bra.s.s railing and look far down to the main floor where the red light glowed at the cigar stand; he sauntered back into the dim and undisturbed corridors, his mind racing over all the things he might say.

Once or twice he glanced into the pamphlets Miss Greene had given him, but he could not fix his mind on them; their types danced meaninglessly before his eyes. He was angry with himself for this nervousness. Why must it a.s.sail him now, just when he wished to be at his best? He had spoken before, a hundred times; he knew his audience, and he had the proper contempt for his colleagues. He had never, to be sure, made a set speech in that presence; seldom did any one do that; the speeches were usually short and impromptu, and there was no time for antic.i.p.ation to generate nervous dread. And yet his mind seemed to be extraordinarily clear just then; it seemed to be able to comprehend all realms of thought at once.