The weeks drifted by monotonously enough, now.
The “preliminaries” continued to drag
along in Congress, and life was a dull suspense to
Sellers and Washington, a weary waiting which might
have broken their hearts, maybe, but for the relieving
change which they got out of am occasional visit to
New York to see Laura. Standing guard in Washington
or anywhere else is not an exciting business in time
of peace, but standing guard was all that the two
friends had to do; all that was needed of them was
that they should be on hand and ready for any emergency
that might come up. There was no work to do;
that was all finished; this was but the second session
of the last winter’s Congress, and its action
on the bill could have but one result—its
passage. The house must do its work over again,
of course, but the same membership was there to see
that it did it.—The Senate was secure—Senator
Dilworthy was able to put all doubts to rest on that
head. Indeed it was no secret in Washington
that a two-thirds vote in the Senate was ready and
waiting to be cast for the University bill as soon
as it should come before that body.
Washington did not take part in the gaieties of “the
season,” as he had done the previous winter.
He had lost his interest in such things; he was oppressed
with cares, now. Senator Dilworthy said to Washington
that an humble deportment, under punishment, was best,
and that there was but one way in which the troubled
heart might find perfect repose and peace. The
suggestion found a response in Washington’s breast,
and the Senator saw the sign of it in his face.
From that moment one could find the youth with the
Senator even oftener than with Col. Sellers.
When the statesman presided at great temperance meetings,
he placed Washington in the front rank of impressive
dignitaries that gave tone to the occasion and pomp
to the platform. His bald headed surroundings
made the youth the more conspicuous.
When the statesman made remarks in these meetings,
he not infrequently alluded with effect to the encouraging
spectacle of one of the wealthiest and most brilliant
young favorites of society forsaking the light vanities
of that butterfly existence to nobly and self-sacrificingly
devote his talents and his riches to the cause of saving
his hapless fellow creatures from shame and misery
here and eternal regret hereafter. At the prayer
meetings the Senator always brought Washington up the
aisle on his arm and seated him prominently; in his
prayers he referred to him in the cant terms which
the Senator employed, perhaps unconsciously, and mistook,
maybe, for religion, and in other ways brought him
into notice. He had him out at gatherings for
the benefit of the negro, gatherings for the benefit
of the Indian, gatherings for the benefit of the heathen
in distant lands. He had him out time and again,
before Sunday Schools, as an example for emulation.
Copyrights
The Gilded Age from Project Gutenberg. Public domain.
