CHAPTER VIII.
THE LABOURS OF MR. ARDMORE.
While he waited for Miss Jerry Dangerfield to appear Mr. Thomas Ardmore read for the first time the constitution of the United States. He had reached the governor’s office early, and seeking diversion, he had picked up a small volume that bore some outward resemblance to a novel. This proved, however, to be Johnston’s American Politics, and he was amazed to find that this diminutive work contained the answers to a great many questions which had often perplexed him, but which he had imagined could not be answered except by statesmen or by men like his friend Griswold, who spent their lives in study.
He had supposed that the constitution of a great nation like the United States would fill many volumes, and be couched in terms bewildering and baffling; and it was perhaps the proudest moment in Mr. Ardmore’s life when, in the cool and quiet of the May morning, in the historic chambers of the governor of North Carolina, it dawned upon him that the charter of American liberty filled hardly more space than the stipulations for a yacht race, or a set of football rules; and that, moreover, he understood the greater part of it, or thought he did. Such strange words as “attainder” and “capitation” he sought out in the dictionary, and this also gave him a new sensation and thrill of pleasure at finding the machinery of knowledge so simple. He made note of several matters he wished to ask Griswold about when they met again; then turned back into the body of the text, and had read as far as Burr’s conspiracy when Jerry came breezily in. He experienced for the first time in his life that obsession of guilt which sinks in shame the office-boy who is caught reading a dime novel. Jerry seemed to tower above him like an avenging angel, and though her sword was only a parasol, her words cut deep enough.
“Well, you are taking it pretty cool!”
“Taking what?” faltered Ardmore, standing up, and seeking to hide the book behind his back.
“Why, this outrageous article!” and she thrust a newspaper under his eyes. “Do you mean to say you haven’t seen the morning paper?”
“To tell you the truth, Miss Dangerfield, I hardly ever read the papers.”
“What’s that you were reading when I came in?” she demanded severely, withholding the paper until she should be answered.
“It’s a book about the government, and the powers reserved to the states and that sort of thing. I was just reading the constitution; I thought it might help us—I mean you—in your work.”
“The constitution help me? Hasn’t it occurred to you before this that what I’m doing is all against the constitution and the revised statutes and all those books you see on the shelf there?”