“Yes, I know.  I shall treat her civilly.  But my heart will be broken, James, if I find that Washington is like New York.”

“In what respect?”

“If I find that the people in these houses lead exclusive, un-American, godless lives.  It would tempt me almost to despair of our country,” she exclaimed, with tragic emphasis.

“I don’t understand about social matters, Selma.  I must leave those to you.  But,” he added, showing that he shrewdly realized the cause of her anguish better than she did herself, “as soon as we get better acquainted, I’m sure you will find that we shall get ahead, and that you will be able to hold your own with anybody, however exclusive.”

Selma colored at the unflattering simplicity of his deduction.  “I don’t desire to hold my own with people of that sort.  I despise them.”

“I know.  Hold your own, I mean, among people of the right sort by force of sound ideas and principles.  The men and women of to-day,” he continued, with melodious asseveration, “are the grand-children of those who built the splendid halls we visited this morning as a monument to our nation’s love of truth and righteousness.  A few frivolous, worldly minded spirits are not the people of the United States to whom we look for our encouragement and support.”

“Assuredly,” answered Selma, with eagerness.  “It is difficult, though, not to get discouraged at times by the behavior of those who ought to aid instead of hinder our progress as a nation.”

For a moment she was silent in wrapt meditation, then she asked: 

“Didn’t you expect that more notice would be taken of our arrival?”

“In what way?”

“In some way befitting a member of Congress.”

Lyons laughed.  “My dear Selma, I am one new Congressman among several hundred.  What did you expect?  That the President and his wife would come and take us to drive?”

“Of course not.”  She paused a moment, then she said:  “I suppose that, as you are not on the side of the administration, we cannot expect much notice to be taken of us until you speak in the House.  I will try not to be too ambitious for you, James; but it would be easier to be patient,” she concluded, with her far-away look, “if I were not beginning to fear that this city also may be contaminated just as New York is.”

CHAPTER VI.

The incidents of the next two days previous to her attendance at the evening reception at the White House restored Selma’s equanimity.  She had the satisfaction of being present at the opening ceremonies of the House of Representatives, and of beholding her husband take the oath of office.  She was proud of Lyons as she looked down on him from the gallery standing in the aisle by his allotted seat.  He was holding an improvised reception, for a number of his colleagues showed themselves desirous to make his acquaintance.  She noticed that he appeared