The North said no--the South said yes. This conviction bigger than party
platforms was the brooding terror which brought the sense of tragedy to
young and old, the learned and the unlearned--that made young men see
visions and maids dream of mighty deeds.
* * * * *
The Southern boy's eyes had again rested on the vacant chairs of the
Senators from South Carolina with a set look in their depths.
The crowd turned with sudden stir to the door of the Senate Chamber.
"Look," Jennie cried, "that's Mrs. Clem Clay of Alabama--how pale and
beautiful she is! The Senator's going to make the speech of his life
to-day. She's scared--Ah, that dress, that dress--isn't it a dream? Did
you ever see such a piece of velvet--and--do look at that dear little
gold hand holding the skirt up just high enough to see the exquisite
lace on her petticoat--"
"Where's the golden hand--I don't see it?" Dick broke in skeptically.
"Don't you see the chain hanging from her waist?"
"Yes, I see that."
"Follow it with your eye and you'll see the hand. The Bayard sisters
introduced them from Paris, you know."
The boy had ceased to listen to Jennie's chatter. His eye had suddenly
rested on a group of three men seated in the diplomatic gallery--one
evidently of high official position by the deference paid him.
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