David Dunne Part 24

The third ballot resulted in giving Hume the entire added strength of the dark horse, and enough votes to elect. A committee was thereupon appointed to bring the three candidates to the House. When they entered and were escorted to the platform they each made a speech, and then formed a reception line. David stood apart, talking to one of the members. He was beginning to feel the reaction from the long strain he had been under and wished to slip away from the crowd. Suddenly he heard some one say:

"Mr. Speaker, may I congratulate you?"

CHAPTER IV

He turned quickly, his heart thrilling at the charm in the voice, low, yet resonant, and sweet with a lurking suggestion of sadness.

A girl, slender and delicately made, stood before him, a girl with an exquisite grace and a nameless charm--the something that lurks in the fragrance of the violet. Her eyes were not the quiet, solemn eyes of the little princess of his fairy tales, but the deep, fathomless eyes of a maiden.

A reminiscent smile stole over his face.

"The little princess!" he murmured, taking her hand.

The words brought a flush of color to her fair face.

"The prince is a politician now," she replied.

"The prince has to be a politician to fight for his kingdom. Have you been here all the evening?"

"Yes; father and I sat with your party. But you were altogether too absorbed to glance our way."

"Are you visiting in the city? Will you be here long?"

"For to-night only. I've been West with father, and we only stopped off to see what a senatorial fight was like; also, to hear you speak.

To-morrow we return East, and then mother and I shall go abroad.

Father," calling to Mr. Winthrop, "I am renewing my acquaintance with Mr. Dunne."

"I wish to do the same," he said, extending his hand cordially. "I expect to be able to tell people some day that I used to fish in a country stream with the governor of this state when he was a boy."

After a few moments of general conversation they all left the statehouse together.

"Carey," said Mr. Winthrop, "I am going with the Judge to the club, so I will put you in David's hands. I believe you have no afraidments with him."

"That has come to be a household phrase with us," she laughed; "but you forget, father, that Mr. Dunne has official duties."

"If you only knew," David a.s.sured her earnestly, "how thankful I am for a release from them. My task is ended, and I don't wish to celebrate in the usual and political way."

"There is a big military ball at the hotel," informed Joe. "Mrs.

Thorne and I thought we would like to go and look on."

"A fine idea, Joe. Maybe you would like to go?" he said to Carey, trying to make his tone urgent.

She laughed at his dismayed expression.

"No; you may walk to the Bradens' with me. We couldn't get in at the hotels, and father met Major Braden on the street. He is instructor or something of the militia of this state, and has gone to the ball with his wife. They supposed that this contest would last far into the night, so they planned to be home before we were."

"We will get a carriage as soon as we are out of the grounds."

"Have you come to carriages?" she asked, laughingly. "You used to say if you couldn't ride horseback, or walk, you would stand still."

"And you agreed with me that carriages were only for the slow, the stupid, and the infirm," he recalled. "It's a glorious night. Would you rather walk, really?"

"Really."

At the entrance to the grounds they parted from the others and went up one of the many avenues radiating from the square.

The air was full of snowflakes, moving so softly and so slowly they scarcely seemed to fall. The electric lights of the city shone cheerfully through the white mist, and the sound of distant mirthmakers fell pleasantly on the ear.

"Snow is the only picture part of winter," said Carey. "Do you remember the story of the Snow Princess?"

"You must have a wonderful memory!" he exclaimed. "You were only six years old when I told you that story."

"I have a very vivid memory," she replied. "Sometimes it almost frightens me."

"Do you know," he said, "that I think people that have dreams and fancies do look backward farther than matter-of-fact people, who let things out of sight go out of mind?"

"You were full of dreams then, but I don't believe you are now. Of course, politicians have no time or inclination for dreams."

"No; they usually have a dread of dreams. Would you rather have found me still a dreamer?" he asked, looking down into her dark eyes, which drooped beneath the intensity of his gaze.

Then her delicate face, misty with sweetness, turned toward him again.

"No; dreams are for children and for old people, whose memories, like their eyes, are for things far off. This is your time to do things, not to dream them. And you have done things. I heard Major Braden telling father about you at dinner--your success in law, your getting some bill killed in the legislature, and your having been to South America. Father says you have had a wonderful career for a young man.

I used to think when I was a little girl that when you were a grown-up prince you would kill dragons and bring home golden fleeces."

He smiled with a sudden deep throb of pleasure. Her voice stirred him with a sense of magic.

"This is the Braden home," she said, stopping before a big house that seemed to be all pillars and porches. "You'll come in for a little while, won't you?"

"I'll come in, if I may, and help you to recall some more of Maplewood days."

A trim little maid opened the door and led the way into a long library where in the fireplace a pine backlog, crisscrossed by st.u.r.dy forelogs of birch and maple, awaited the touch of a match. It was given, and the room was filled with a flaring light that made the soft lamplight seem pale and feeble.

"This is a genuine Brumble fire," he exclaimed, as they sat down before the ruddy glow. "It carries me back to farm life."

"How many phases of life you have seen," mused Carey. "Country, college, city, tropical, and now this political life. Which one have you really enjoyed the most?"

"My life in the Land of Dreams--that beautiful Isle of Everywhere," he replied.

Her eyes grew radiant with understanding.

"You are not so very much changed since your days of dreaming," she said, smiling. "To be sure, you have lost your freckles and you don't kick at the ground when you walk, and--"

"And," he reminded, as she paused.