The Senator's Favorite

Bruce Conway had been Grace's first lover, and it is said that a woman's heart always retains a slight tenderness for the lover who was first to worship at her shrine.

On the other hand the girl Bruce Conway had married claimed Mrs. Winans as her dearest friend, and it was through her that little Earle, when kidnaped by a poor mother crazed by the loss of her own child, had been restored to his parents. Now, when gentle, brown-eyed Lulu had been dead for years, her memory was still green in the heart of this true friend, and for her beloved sake Mrs. Winans yearned over Ladybird with inexpressible tenderness.

With her husband's full concurrence in her plans she had come to Rosemont hoping to find pretty Ladybird and adopt her as her own.

For the shadow of orphanage and sorrow had fallen darkly over the little curly, brown head with its will-o'-the-wisp fancies.

In June Bruce Conway had sailed from New York on the Mamaroneck, and all the world knew now that some awful mysterious fate had overtaken the steamer, for she had never reached port nor been sighted during the voyage; and after she had been fully a month overdue her lifeboats had been seen drifting empty on the ocean. It was certain then that the Mamaroneck had been wrecked, but at first it was hoped that the passengers had been rescued from the lifeboats by some other steamer. Alas! weary months had come and gone, and still no tidings of the fifty souls, passengers and crew, of the Mamaroneck. Hope died out in every heart. They were given up for lost. The sea had claimed them for her victims.

To the Winans family the news of the probable death of Bruce Conway came with a shock of pain, and their sympathies turned to the orphaned girl left lonely in the wide world.

Ladybird had kept up at first an occasional correspondence with Precious, but at last it had closed abruptly, and, as the traveling party were always on the wing, her whereabouts were quite unknown to them. But they hoped to find her with her aunt at the pretty cottage home at Rosemont.

But cruel disappointment awaited their inquiries.

Ladybird had indeed returned home in September, but, crushed by the news of her father's death, had drooped and paled like a broken flower.

Meanwhile Lawyer Stanley, who had been Mr. Conway's legal adviser, had declared his belief in his client's death, and produced papers by which he was chosen Ladybird's guardian. He asserted that Mr. Conway had died bankrupt through unfortunate speculations, and that his daughter was penniless. But professing sincere friendship for the dead, he accepted the charge of Ladybird as a sacred trust. Miss Prudence Primrose had been sent to California, to a half-brother there, and then Mr. Stanley had moved away to New York with his family, consisting of an invalid wife and Aura, to which was now added the charge of a helpless orphan girl whom Aura hated so bitterly that it seemed strange to think that the father could feel so deep an interest in her welfare.

"We must find the little girl, and take her home with us. She will be a pleasant companion for Precious when our dear Ethel is married and gone," said the senator kindly, and his wife added:

"Yes, we must find her, for I know she is not happy with that coarse-grained Aura Stanley. She must come to us and be our daughter, for she has more claim on us than on her father's lawyer."

Ethel and Precious both agreed that Ladybird was a darling, and that it would make them very happy to have her for a sister; but Earle Winans never bore any part in these discussions, although he listened to them in silent eagerness, wondering if it would ever happen, as they were planning, that Ladybird should come to them as a sister. He knew by the feverish throb of his passionate heart that he loved her still, despite the pride and anger that strove for mastery in his haughty breast.

"I deemed that time, I deemed that pride
Had quenched at last my boyish flame,
Nor knew till seated by thy side
My heart in all save hope the same."

One day when he was seated at a desk in the library, with his dark, curly head bent dejectedly on his hand, a light footstep crossed the floor, and a tender arm stole around his neck. He looked up into his mother's tender face, that was quite young and lovely still, in spite of her forty years.

"My dear, you are sad. Why is it?" she asked lovingly.

"It is only your fancy, dearest," he replied, summoning a smile.

"Earle, I have something to ask you. Will you go to New York on a little mission for me?" she asked softly, threading his dark curls with her slender, jeweled fingers.

"You can command me, dearest mother, to go to the ends of the earth for you," he replied smilingly, but with real affection.

"Good boy! But I will not impose on you like that. It is only to take a little run up to New York, find these Stanleys and persuade Ladybird to come here to us with you."

He made a vehement ejaculation, and she saw the crimson mount to his temples.

"You will do this for me, my son?" she cooed, in that soft, caressing voice he had loved ever since it had soothed him to his infant slumbers.

But he rose to his feet impatiently.

"You do not know what you ask—you do not understand—" he began hotly.

The sweetest, most knowing little smile dawned on Mrs. Winans' exquisitely curved red lips.

"Ah, my boy, I know more than you suspect," she smiled. "Do you think I did not know, last summer, that you and Ladybird had been lovers? It was a silly madcap prank, that little affair of hers, but she was so young, so thoughtless, it can easily be forgiven. And she loved you through it all, I am sure."

"She promised to marry another man," he said stiffly.

"Only fun. She did not mean it, poor little madcap," smiled his mother; then more seriously she added: "I am sure the little girl loves you, Earle, and I want you to forgive her and bring her back to us. Promise me."

"I cannot forgive," he murmured unsteadily, and she looked at him in gentle wonder, and answered:

"Then, my son, your love was not worth much if it lacks the quality of forgiveness that is inherent in all true affection. And Ladybird, poor child, has been punished enough for her willful prank. Remember she went away without seeing you when you were wounded, although I have seen her wistful eyes turned often toward your door with a silent yearning that almost melted my heart. But we let her go without a sign that we understood her proud and silent grief. It was her punishment, and she bore it without murmuring. But now the heavy hand of orphanage and sorrow is upon her, and it is cruel to harbor resentment."

"Ah, mother, I wish I could be good, like you," he breathed huskily.

With a gentle sigh she answered:

"The good that is in us, Earle, has to be perfected by years of experience. As the ardor of our youthful passions fades we become more reasonable and more ready to condone the faults of others. I can see in your proud, impulsive nature the traits of your parents reflected, so I cannot blame you too severely for your unrelenting disposition toward your willful sweetheart; but, dear Earle, I can also assure you, out of the wisdom of suffering and experience, that forgiveness is one of the noblest attributes of human nature, and brings with it an exquisite peace and happiness that is its own best reward."

The violet eyes were soft with unshed tears, and the low voice was as sweet as music. Earle Winans' moody anger dissolved like mists of dawn before her sweet influence.

He put his arms lovingly about her, and as he kissed the calm, white brow he whispered:

"Angel-mother, you make me ashamed of my harshness. I will not cherish my resentment any longer. It shall be as you say. I will seek Ladybird and bring her home to you."

"Heaven speed your mission," she cried between tears and smiles, and before many hours he was on his way to New York, with a lighter heart than he had borne for months.

But four days later a brief note came to his mother:

"I have found the Stanleys, but Miss Conway is not with them. She married Jack Tennant two weeks ago, and went to California on her wedding tour.

    Earle."

CHAPTER XXIX.

THE PRICE OF A SECRET

"As roses when the warm west blows
Break to full flower and sweeten spring,
My soul would break to a glorious rose,
In such wise at his whispering;
In vain I listen; well away!
My love says nothing any day!"—Swinburne.

Although Congress was not to convene until the usual time in December, the Winans family went to Washington in October's last bright days ere the golden autumn haze was dimmed by the gray mists and fogs of November.

Among the series of fashionable entertainments with which the gay world opened the social season the coming out of Precious Winans marked a brilliant event.

Since her mother's first appearance in Washington society years ago as the senator's bride no such wonderful beauty had carried society by storm.