Helen had an impulse to kiss the paper on which these words were printed. But she checked it and turned the leaves more quickly, letting her eye run down each column. For more than an hour she pored over the volumes. When she had glanced over the first three she noticed a change in the tone of the comments. They began to be sarcastic; they pointed out several inconsistencies in her husband’s course. One paper published in parallel columns quotations from his speeches, contradicting each other. Then followed open charges of corruption against him in connection with a railroad bill then under consideration in Congress. As she read, Helen grew faint. How did it happen that she had neither seen nor heard of this article? Why hadn’t Douglas spoken of it to her? Why had he not come out with a public denial, or sued the paper for libel? Then she said to herself that she was foolish to ask these questions. Attacks of this kind were made every day on public men; the higher their position the more bitter the enemies they made.
She heard a sound at the front door, and she started. It was probably Douglas returning early from the House. She was tempted to put the book quickly back in its place; but she sat without moving, waiting for him to come in. He walked up the stairs, however. She rose with a sigh of relief and, closing the book, left it on the table. She made a quiet resolve that she would never tell him of the thoughts that had passed through her mind. She would try never to think of them again. She was ashamed of having thought of them at all.
Douglas Briggs stopped on the upper landing and called, “Helen!” Then he looked down. “Oh, there you are,” he said. He descended quickly, and she met him in the hall. “Rested?” he said, taking her hand and pressing it against his cheek.
“Yes, dear.” Then she suddenly put both her hands on his head and kissed him twice. “I’m glad you came back early,” she said. “Everybody’s out, and I’ve been feeling lonely.”
She returned to the library, and he followed. “I’ve been looking over your scrapbooks,” she said.
“Couldn’t you find anything more interesting?” He dropped into a seat near the table and ran his fingers through his hair. “We’ve been having a great fight to-day. Aspinwall’s new tariff schedule. If I’d known I was going to make a speech I’d have asked you to come. Have you seen the notices of our ball last night in the papers?”
Helen nodded.
“The Star gave us a great send-off. They treated me as if I were a millionaire.” Douglas Briggs sighed. “I wish I were.”
“That reminds me, Douglas,” said Helen. “I want to ask you something.” She was astonished at her own boldness. She felt as if she were speaking at the bidding of someone else. She thought of her resolution, but she felt powerless to keep it.
Briggs looked up. “Well?” Helen did not answer at once, and he added: “What is it?”