The Northern Senators were in their seats with grave faces long before the last straggling Southerner picked his way into the Chamber bowing and smiling and apologizing to the ladies on whose richly embroidered dresses he must step or give up the journey.
For weeks the pretense of polite formalities between parties had been unconsciously dropped. Men no longer bowed and smirked and passed the time of day with shallow words.
With heads erect, they glanced at each other and passed on. And if they spoke, it was with taunt, insult and challenge.
Jennie's keen eyes rested on two vacant chairs on the floor of the Senate—every seat was crowded save these two.
She pressed Dick's arm.
"See—the vacant seats of South Carolina!"
"They're not vacant," the boy drawled.
"They are—look—"
"I see a white figure in each—"