Honest John Vane :: :: University of Virginia Library

“We shall now have an honest man to represent
us,” she continued, repeating such political
talk as she had fully caught the sense of while
serving her boarders. “And a man of ability,
too,” she quickly added, vaguely conscious that
an imputation of honesty alone is small praise.
“Knowing what you have done in life hitherto, I
feel sure that you will be very useful in your new
sphere.”

“Do manage, Mr. Vane, to have a gay season
in Washington,” put in Julia Maria; “and then do
get me an invite to spend the winter there.”

Olympia lost a little of her air of repose, and
glanced uneasily at her sister. Was it within the
range of possibility that this young chit should

skip into the arena and carry off the prize by dint
of mere girlish forwardness and flippancy? Mrs.
Smiles also saw the peril, and, in obedience to
the eye of her eldest, sweetly sent Julia Maria
down stairs with a message to the cook.

“I don't know what sort of a figger I shall
cut in Congress,” observed John Vane, modestly.
“But you may be sure, Mrs. Smiles, that I shall
do my honest best. I hope sincerely that I shall
merit the compliments you are so polite as to pay
me.”

“O, indeed you will!” broke in both mother
and daughter, eagerly.

“And yet, I should think you would tremble
at the thought of assuming such responsibilities,”
continued Mrs. Smiles, gazing with real veneration
at her once favored boarder, now the choice
of the people. “It must be such a terrible thing
to decide on the President's salary, and such-like
important questions.”

“O, that's very simple!” answered the Congressman
elect, pardonably anxious to show a little

bit of his political lore. “You see, the President's
salary is fixed by law, and there's no discussion
over it.”

“Yes, but you may have to vote on the law,”
pursued the good lady, eager to make up some
work for her hero.

“O, as to that,” stammered Vane, who had
been drawn beyond his depth, “I dare say that
may come up sometimes! Of course, when it
does, Congress attends to it.”

“Certainly,” chimed in Mrs. Smiles, delighted
that it should be so, because it enhanced her
friend's glory. “I remember hearing Mr. Smiles,
my poor husband,—this was when we were in
better circumstances, Mr. Vane, — I remember
hearing him say that Congress is only too powerful.
He took a great interest in politics, Mr.
Smiles did. It is the business of a statesman,
he used to say. Often and often I've heard him
say it.”

By this time Olympia was glancing sidelong at
her mother, as she had previously glanced at her

sister. Mrs. Smiles noted the look and divined
from it that she was in the girl's way, and proceeded
to remove herself.

“Dear me! I wonder if Julia gave my message,”
she exclaimed, in a simulated tone of reminiscence.
“Do excuse me for a few moments,
Mr. Vane. You know a housekeeper has her
affairs.”

“Certainly, Mrs. Smiles,” bowed John, who
was rejoiced to have her depart, although he also
felt nervous.

As soon as the two “young people” were left
alone, Olympia rose from the chair where she
had been sitting in isolated dignity, advanced to
our Congressman with an air of cordial interest,
and placed herself by his side on a sofa.

“Now tell me all about it,” she murmured with
a bewildering smile. “I have so longed to question
you! I wanted to give you some intelligent
sympathy. Tell me all your plans of legislation,
as far as it is proper to tell them to a woman.”

Such a gush from such a source was intoxicating

to the heart, and furthermore it was inspiring
to the mind. Some thousands of psychologists
have already remarked that a man can always
talk easily, if you will let him talk about himself
and provide him with an interested and interesting
listener. John Vane at once lost his embarrassment
and found that this was indeed a
land of free speech. He had a fluent utterance,
as we have already indicated, and on this occasion
he beat his best time on the platform. He
told all that he knew about national politics, and
some things which neither he nor any other man
ever knew.

“O, that will be noble work!” exclaimed Olympia,
when he had fully exposed his plan for renovating
and purifying the Republic by rescinding
the franking privilege. “We shall all owe you a
vast debt of gratitude,” she continued, without in
the least comprehending how the reform would
benefit her or any other human creature. “But
do you think it possible to eradicate such an established
and wide-spread abuse?” she continued,

calling it what he had called it, and thereby causing
him to marvel at her discrimination. “Here
are all these greedy people all over the country,
crazy to get these big books and reports that you
speak of. How do you think they will bear being
deprived of them? Of course they will become
your bitter enemies. Don't you think it would
be safer, and better in the long run, to begin with
some easier work, where there would not be millions
to oppose you? Of course I am dreadfully
ignorant of these political matters,” she naïvely
confessed, discovering by his face that she had
made some blunder, which she certainly had as to
the millions. “You must forgive me for venturing
suggestions. I ought not to try to discuss
matters so much above me. But I am so eager
to have you succeed from the very start! O, so
eager!” she added, rolling up her fine eyes enthusiastically.

“O Miss Smiles! I do heartily thank you for
your interest,” gasped John Vane, barely restraining
himself from falling on his majestic knees.

At this moment the impertinent cheap parlor
clock struck ten. Congressman Vane started and
stared at its round face with astonishment. Since
Mrs. Smiles had left the room “for a few moments,”
more than an hour had elapsed.

“I must be going,” he observed, remembering
an appointment, at ten precisely, with certain
leading managers of politics.

“O, it is not late!” pleaded Olympia. “I have
but just begun to get interested—I mean, to understand
these matters.”

But the Congressman felt that it would not do
to let his potent allies wait long, and, humbly
pleading his appointment, he persisted in rising.

“Do call again soon,” urged the young lady.
“I want to show you that I am still your friend,—
one of your most sincere friends,” she added fervently,
giving him her hand.

John Vane could not resist the temptation; he
impulsively pressed that hand to his lips. “You
know how I feel!” he gasped in apology, and then
in haste made his dizzy way to the door.

“O, how could you!” whispered Olympia in
feigned remonstrance. But her cheek was red
with pride and pleasure, and her parting glance
was of a nature to fill him with hope.

A sense of justice compels us to state that this
young lady was not merely a clever hypocrite,
cold-heartedly planning for herself a prosperous
marriage. During the two months in which John
Vane had fought his election fight and won his
really brilliant victory, she had not only lost all
her early disdain of him, but had gradually learned
to admire him, to wish to win him, and to like
him. People are often loved, not merely for what
they are themselves, but also for their adventitious
surroundings. I myself feel that I might have a
passion for a tolerably plain queen, if her Majesty
should distinctly and magnificently encourage me.
Just in this natural, and therefore, I suppose, rational
and proper manner, Olympia “fancied” and
in a certain sense loved Mr. Vane because he was
a Congressman and a celebrity.

A learned pig, or any other intellect of a second-rate

order, might predict with accuracy the result
of such a state of things. These two people,
who so earnestly wanted each other, soon managed
to have each other. But, although John
Vane made an easy conquest, it was none the less
an unexpected one to him, and a matter of great
and keen joy. When he at last dared to say to
Olympia, “Will you be my wife?” and when she
leaned with downcast eyes toward him and whispered,
“I will,” he was as much astonished with
gladness as if he had been received bodily into
heaven. Just in that moment his feelings, and
we may hopefully venture to add hers also, were
as admirable and enviable as the emotions of the
most select and highly educated natures would
average under the same circumstances, and might
easily be accepted as the sure harbingers of a
happy married life.

We shall see in the sequel, when Mr. and Mrs.
Vane come to be exposed to the temptations of
Washington, whether these seraphic visitants
prophesied correctly.