"Senator Langdon," she said, "Carolina and Hope Georgia are here at my home for luncheon, and we all want you to join us."
"Sorry I cannot accept," answered the Mississippian, "but I am to make an important speech this afternoon—"
"Oh, yes, I know. The girls and I are coming to hear it. But you have two hours' time, and if you come we can all go over to the Senate together. Now, Senator, humor us a little. Don't disappoint the girls and me. We can all drive over to the Capitol in my carriage."
The planter hesitated, then replied: "All right. I'll be over, but it mustn't be a very long luncheon."
"Gone to eat; back by 3 o'clock," he scratched quickly on a pad on the secretary's desk, and departed.
Mrs. Spangler's luncheons were equally as popular in Washington as Senator Langdon's dinners. The Mississippian and his daughters enjoyed the delicacies spread lavishly before them.
Time passed quickly. The old planter enjoyed seeing his daughters have so happy a time, and he was not insensible to the charm of his hostess' conversation, for Mrs. Spangler had studied carefully the art of ingratiating herself with her guests.
Suddenly realizing that he had probably reached the limit of the time he could spare, the Senator drew out his watch.
"What a stunning fob you wear," quickly spoke Mrs. Spangler, reaching out her hand and taking the watch from her guest's hands as the case snapped open.
"Oh, that's Carolina's doings," laughed Langdon. "She said the old gold chain that my grandfather left me was—"