change in his manner toward her; but his manner had changed. He was studiously, scrupulously polite in private, and in public devoted; but there was no feeling, no passion, no love. The polished shell of his clan reflected conventional light even more carefully than formerly because the shell was cold and empty. There were no little flashes of anger now, no poutings nor sweet reconciliations. Life ran very smoothly and courteously; and while she did not try to regain the affection, she strove to enthrall his intellect. She supplied a subcommittee upon which he was serving‚ÅÝ‚Äînot directly, but through him‚ÅÝ‚Äîwith figures, with reports, books, and papers, so that he received special commendations; a praise that piqued as well as pleased him, because it implied a certain surprise that he was able to do it.
“The damned Yankees!” he sneered. “They think they’ve got the brains of the nation.”
“Why not make a speech on the subject?” she suggested.
He laughed. The matter under discussion was the cotton-goods schedule of the new tariff bill, about which really he knew a little; his wife placed every temptation to knowledge before him, even inspiring Senator Smith to ask him to defend that schedule against the low-tariff advocate. Mary Cresswell worked with redoubled energy, and for nearly a week Harry stayed at home nights and studied. Thanks to his wife the speech was unusually informing and well put, and the fact that a prominent free-trader spoke the same afternoon gave it publicity, while Mr. ¬ÝEasterly saw to the press despatches.
Cresswell subscribed to a clipping-bureau and tasted the sweets of dawning notoriety, and Mrs. ¬ÝCresswell arranged a select dinner-party which included a cabinet officer, a foreign ambassador, two millionaires, and the leading Southern Congressmen. The talk came around to the failure of the Senate to confirm Mr. ¬ÝVanderpool, and it was generally assumed that the President would not force the issue.