He was puzzled—it might be said distressed—how to make these rewards of his professional prominence appear compatible with his real political principles, so that the plain and sovereign people would recognize as clearly as he that there was no inconsistency in his having taken advantage of the opportunities for professional advancement thrown in his way. He was ambitious for political preferment, sharing the growing impression that he was well qualified for public office, and he desired to rise as the champion of popular ideas. Consequently he resented bitterly the calumnies which had appeared in one or two irresponsible newspapers to the effect that he was becoming a corporation attorney and a capitalist. Could a man refuse legitimate business which was thrust upon him? How were his convictions and interest in the cause of struggling humanity altered or affected by his success at the bar? Hence he neglected no occasion to declare his allegiance to progressive doctrine, and to give utterance to the patriotism which at all times was on tap in his emotional system. He had been married, but his wife had been dead a number of years, and he made his home with his aged mother, to whom he was apt to refer with pious tremulousness when he desired to emphasize some domestic situation before a jury. As a staunch member of the Methodist Church, he was on terms of intimate association with his pastor, and was known as a liberal contributor to domestic and foreign missions.
Selma was genuinely carried away by the character of his oratory. His sentiments were so completely in accord with her own ideas that she felt he had left nothing unsaid, and had put the case grandly. Here at last was a man who shared with her the convictions with which her brain was seething—a man who was not afraid to give public expression to his views, and who possessed a splendid gift of statement. She had felt sure that she would meet sympathy and kindred spirits in Benham, but her experience in New York had so far depressed her that she had not allowed herself to expect such a thorough-going champion. What a contrast his solid, devotional, yet business-like aspect was to the quizzical lightness of the men in New York she had been told were clever, like Dr. Page and Mr. Dennison! He possessed Wilbur's ardor and reverence, with a robustness of physique and a practical air which Wilbur had lacked—lacked to his and her detriment. If Wilbur had been as vigorous in body as he ought to have been, would he have died? She had read somewhere lately that physical delicacy was apt to react on the mind and make one's ideas too fine-spun and unsubstantial. Here was the advantage which a man like Mr. Lyons had over Wilbur. He was strong and thickset, and looked as though he could endure hard work without wincing. So could she. It was a great boon, an essential of effective manhood or womanhood. These thoughts followed in the wake of the enthusiasm his personality had aroused in her at the close of his address. She scarcely heard the remarks of the next speaker, the last on the programme. Her eyes kept straying wistfully in the direction of Mr. Lyons, and she wondered if there would be an opportunity when the meeting was over to let him know how much she approved of what he had said, and how necessary she felt the promulgation, of such ideas was for the welfare of the country.
She was aroused from contemplation by the voice of Mrs. Earle, who, now that everybody was standing up preliminary to departure, bent over her front bench on the platform to whisper, "Wasn't Mr. Lyons splendid?"
"Yes, indeed," said Selma. "I should like so much to make his acquaintance, to compare notes with him and thank him for his brave, true words."
"I know he'd be pleased to meet you. I'll try to catch his eye. I wish some of those Reform Club people could have heard what he thought of them. There! He's looking this way. I'm going to attract his attention." Whereupon Mrs. Earle began to nod in his direction energetically. "He sees us now, and has noticed you. I shouldn't wonder if he has recognized you. Follow me close, Selma, and we'll be able to shake hands with him."
By dint of squeezing and stertorous declarations of her desire, Mrs. Earle obtained a gradual passage through the crowd. Many from the audience had ascended to the platform for the purpose of accosting the speakers, and a large share of the interest was being bestowed on Mr. Lyons, who was holding an impromptu reception. When at last Mrs. Earle had worked her way to within a few feet of him, her wheezing condition and bulk announced her approach, and procured her consideration from the others in the line, so that she was able to plant herself pervasively and firmly in front of her idol and take possession of him by the fervid announcement, "You were simply unanswerable. Eloquent, convincing, and unanswerable. And I have brought with me an old friend, Mrs. Littleton, who sympathizes with your superb utterances, and wishes to tell you so."
As Selma stepped forward in recognition of this introduction she vibrated to hear Mr. Lyons say, without a sign of hesitation, "A friend whom it is a pleasure to welcome back to Benham, Mrs. Littleton, I am pleased to meet you again."
Selma had hoped, and felt it her due, that he would recognize her. Still his having done so at once was a compliment which served to enhance the favorable opinion which she had already formed regarding him.
"I have been longing for months, Mr. Lyons," she said, "to hear someone say what you have said to-night. I am concerned, as we all are of course, in Miss Bailey's election, and your advocacy of her cause was most brilliant; but what I refer to—what interested, me especially, was the splendid protest you uttered against all movements to prevent the intelligence of the people from asserting itself. It gave me encouragement and made me feel that the outlook for the future is bright—that our truths must prevail."
It was a maxim with Lyons that it was desirable to remember everyone he met, and he prided himself on his ability to call cordially by name clients or chance acquaintances whom he had not seen for years. Nature had endowed him with a good memory for names and faces, but he had learned to take advantage of all opportunities to brush up his wits before they were called into flattering, spontaneous action. When his glance, attracted by Mrs. Earle's remote gesticulation, rested on Selma's face, he began to ask himself at once where he had seen it before. In the interval vouchsafed by her approach he recalled the incident of the divorce, that her name had been Babcock, and that she had married again, but he was still groping for the name of her husband when the necessary clew was supplied by Mrs. Earle, and he was able to make his recognition of her exhaustive. He noticed with approval her pretty face and compact figure, reflecting that the slight gain in flesh was to her advantage, and noticed also her widow's mourning. But her eager, fluent address and zealous manner had prevented his attention from secretly wandering with business-like foresight to the next persons in the line of those anxious to shake his hand, and led him to regard her a second time. He was accustomed to compliments, but he was struck by the note of discriminating companionship in her congratulation. He believed that he had much at heart the very issue which she had touched upon, and it gratified him that a woman whose appearance was so attractive to him should single out for sympathetic enthusiasm what was in his opinion the cardinal principle involved, instead of expatiating on the assistance he had rendered Miss Bailey. Lyons said to himself that here was a kindred spirit—a woman with whom conversation would be a pleasure; with whom it would be possible to discourse on terms of mental comradeship. He was partial to comely women, but he did not approve of frivolity except on special and guarded occasions.