Bles laughed and continued shaking his head. He was foolishly glad to see the former Cresswell butler, whom he had known but slightly. His face brought back unuttered things that made his heart beat faster and a yearning surge within him.
“I thought you went to Chicago,” cried Bles.
‚ÄúI did, but goin‚Äô into politics‚ÅÝ‚Äîhaving entered the political field, I came here. And you graduated, I suppose, and all that?‚Äù
‚ÄúNo,‚Äù Bless admitted a little sadly, as he told of his coming north, and of Senator Smith‚Äôs influence. ‚ÄúBut‚ÅÝ‚Äîbut how are‚ÅÝ‚Äîall?‚Äù
Abruptly Sam hooked his arm into Alwyn’s and pulled him with him down the street.
Stillings was a type. Up from servility and menial service he was struggling to climb to money and power. He was shrewd, willing to stoop to anything in order to win. The very slights and humiliations of prejudice he turned to his advantage.
When he learned all the particulars of Alwyn’s visit to Senator Smith and his cordial reception he judged it best to keep in touch with this young man, and he forthwith invited Bles to accompany him the next night to the Fifteenth Street Presbyterian Church.
“You’ll find the best people there,” he said; “the aristocracy. The Treble Clef gives a concert, and everybody that’s anybody will be there.”
They met again the following evening and proceeded to the church. It was a simple but pleasant auditorium, nearly filled with well-dressed people.