If ever you go to Philipsburg, which is in Wyoming, not far from the Montana line, you will hear the people proclaim the greatness of the town in which they live. You expect this sort of thing in the Far West, and you are prepared for it, but you will be surprised at the nature of the Philipsburg boast. Its proud inhabitants will not tell you that it is bound to be the largest city between the Missouri and the coast, they will not assert that since the horizon touches the earth at an equal distance on all sides of the town, it is, therefore, the natural centre of the world; but they will tell you stories of the Great Philipsburg Conference, and some of them will not be far from the truth.
Philipsburg is but a hamlet, fed by an irrigation ditch that leads the life-giving waters down from a distant mountain, and it has neither the beauty of nature nor that given by the hand of man, but the people will point importantly to the square wooden hotel of only two stories, and tell you that there occurred the great crisis in the most famous and picturesque2 Presidential campaign ever waged in the United States; they will even lead you to the very room in which the big talk occurred, and say, in lowered voices, that the furniture is exactly the same, and arranged just as it was on that momentous3 night when the history of the world might have been changed. In this room the people of Philipsburg have a reverential air, and there is cause for it.
The affair did not begin at Philipsburg--it merely had its climax4 there--but far away on the dusty plains of eastern Washington, where the wheat grows so tall, and it bubbled and seethed5 as the candidate and his party travelled eastward6, stopping and speaking many times by the way. It was all about the tariff7, a dry subject in itself, but, as tall oaks from little acorns8 grow, so a dry subject often can make interesting people do interesting things.
At the convention that nominated Mr. Grayson for the Presidency9 the subject of the tariff had been left somewhat vague in the platform, not from deliberate purpose, but merely through the drift of events; the question had not interested the people greatly in some time; other things connected with both the foreign and internal policy of the government, particularly the continued occupation of the Philippines and a projected new banking10 system, were more to the fore1; but as the campaign proceeded certain events caused the tariff also to be brought into issue and to receive a large share of public attention.
Now, a clever man--above all, one as clever as Jimmy Grayson--could avoid giving a decided11 opinion upon this subject. It is party creed12 for a candidate to stand upon his platform, and, as the platform contained no tariff plank13, he was not obliged to take any stand upon the tariff. Such a course would seem good politics, too, but Harley knew that Mr. Grayson favored a reduction of the tariff and a liberal measure of reciprocity with neighboring states, and he dreaded15 the time when the candidate should declare himself upon the subject; he did not see how he could do it without losing many votes, because there was a serious difference of view inside his own party. And Harley's dread16 grew out of his intense desire to see Mr. Grayson elected. His hero was not perfect--no man was; there were some important truths which he did not yet know, but he was honest, able, and true, and he came nearer to being the ideal candidate than any other man whom he had ever seen. Above all, he represented the principles which Harley, from the bottom of his soul, wished to triumph.
The fight had been begun against great odds17, against powerful interests consolidated18 in a battle-line that at first seemed impervious19, but by tremendous efforts they had made progress; the vast energy and the winning personality of Mr. Grayson were a strong weapon, and Harley was gradually sensible that the people were rallying around him in increasing numbers, and by people he did not merely mean the masses of the lowest, those who never raise themselves; Harley was never such a demagogue as to think that a man was bad because he had achieved something in the world and had prospered20; he had too honest and clear a mind to put a premium21 upon incapacity and idleness.
Lately he had begun to have hope--a feeling that Mr. Grayson might be elected despite the "King" Plummer defection was growing upon him, if they could only abide22 by the issues already formed. But at the best it would be a fight to the finish, with the chances in favor of the other man. Yet his heart was infused with hope until this hateful tariff question began to raise its head. Harley knew that a declaration upon it would split the party, or at least would cut from it a fragment big enough to cause defeat. He devoutly23 hoped that they would steer24 clear of this dangerous rock, but he was not so sure of Jimmy Grayson, who, after all, was his own pilot. And his amiability25 did not alter the fact that he had a strong hand.
Harley at first heard the mutterings of the thunder only from afar; it was being debated in the East among the great manufacturing cities, but as yet the West was untouched by the storm. Mr. Heathcote, the Eastern committeeman, called his attention to it after they had passed the mountain-range that divides western Washington from eastern Washington.
Harley was looking out of the window at the rippling26 brown plain, which he was told was one of the best wheat countries in the world. "At first," said his informant, a pioneer, "we thought it was a desert, and we thought so, too, for a long time afterwards; it looked like loose sand, and the wind actually blew the soil about as if it were dust. Now, and without irrigation, it produces its thirty bushels of wheat per acre season after season."
Harley was thinking of this brilliant transformation27, when the committeeman, who was sitting just behind him, suddenly changed the channel of his thoughts.
"I have here a Walla Walla paper that will interest you, Mr. Harley," he said. "In fact, it is likely to interest us all. The despatch28 is somewhat meagre, but it will suffice."
He put his finger on the top head-line of the first page, and Harley read: "The Tariff an Issue." He took the paper and read the article carefully. The debate had occurred before an immense audience in Madison Square Garden, in New York City, and according to the despatch it had excited the greatest interest, a statement that Harley could easily believe.
"I was hoping that we would be spared this," he said, as he laid the paper down and his face became grave. "Why do they bring it up? It's not in the platform and it should not be made an issue, at least not now."
"But it is an issue, after all," replied Mr. Heathcote, "and I am surprised that the enemy did not raise the question sooner. They must have had some very bad management. They are united on this question, and we are not. If we are forced to come into line of battle on it, then we are divided and they are not; don't you see their advantage?"
"Yes, it is manifest," replied Harley, gloomily. Then, after a little thought, he began to brighten.
"It is not necessary for Jimmy Grayson to declare himself."
"He will, if he is asked to do so."
"But we are away out here in the Western mountains, out of immediate30 touch with the great centres of population. These thinly settled states are doubtful, those more populous31 are not. Here they are not interested in the tariff either one way or the other; the subject has scarcely been mentioned on our Western tour; why can we not still keep it in the dark?"
"But, I tell you, if the issue is presented to Jimmy Grayson, he is sure to speak his mind about it."
"It is for us to see that it is not presented. I don't think it will be done by any of the local population, and we must exercise a censorship over the press. We must try to keep from him all newspapers containing accounts of the tariff debates; we must not let him know that the issue is before the public off there in the East. There is only a month more of the campaign, and, while it is not likely that we can suppress the matter entirely32, we may keep it down until it is too late to do much harm."
"The plan isn't a bad one," said Mr. Heathcote; "but we've got to take everybody into the plot. Mr. Grayson alone is to be left in ignorance."
"They are all his devoted33 personal friends except Churchill, of the _Monitor_, and I can bully34 him into silence."
Harley's face flushed slightly as he made this assertion with emphasis. Mr. Heathcote, who was learning much these days, smiled as he observed him.
"Mr. Harley," he said, "no one could doubt the reality of your wishes for Mr. Grayson's success."
All went willingly into the little conspiracy35 against the extension of Mr. Grayson's knowledge, even Churchill, under the whip and spur of Harley's will, promising36 a sullen37 silence. The case itself presented aspects that stirred these men, calling as it did for an alertness of mind and delicacy38 of handling that appealed to their sense of responsibility; hence it aroused their interest, which in turn begat a desire to succeed.
But Harley, as well as Mr. Heathcote and the others, knew very well that it was not the enemy alone who had raised this new and, as they all feared, fatal issue; even if they had not read it in the despatches, the hand of the minority within their own party was too clearly visible. In the newspapers that reached them constant allusions39 were made to Mr. Goodnight, Mr. Crayon, and their associates, who were deeply interested in the maintenance of the tariff, and who, it was said, would force Mr. Grayson to pledge himself to its support; this, it was predicted, they could easily do, as it was obvious that he could not win without the help of this minority.
Harley knew that the Goodnight faction40 now intended to force the issue--that is, either to subject Mr. Grayson or to ruin him, and he saw that the affair would require the most delicate handling; only that and the best of fortune could postpone41 the issue long enough.
They took Sylvia into their confidence, both by necessity and choice, but they were rather surprised to find that in this case she did not believe in diplomacy42.
"If I were Uncle James," she said, with indignant anger, "I would tell them to go to--well, well, where a man would tell them to go to, and I would not be polite about it, either."
Harley laughed at her heat, although he liked it, too.
"And then you'd lose the election," he said.
"I'd lose it, if I must, but at least I'd save my independence and self-respect in doing so. Is Uncle James the nominee43, or is he not? If he is the nominee, shouldn't he say what he ought to do?"
"Perhaps, but it isn't politics; even if he were elected he wouldn't be absolutely free; no ruler ever was, whether president or king."
But she clung to her opinion.
It was no easy matter to hide the tariff issue from Jimmy Grayson, who was exceedingly watchful44 of all things about him, despite his great labors45 in the campaign; yet his associates were aided to some extent by the rather meagre character of the newspapers which now reached them, newspapers published in small towns, and therefore unable to pay for long despatches from the East. But even these were censored46 with the most jealous care; if they contained anything about the hot tariff discussion off there in the Atlantic States, they disappeared before they could reach the candidate. All the news was inspected with the most rigid47 care, just as if the real feeling of his subjects was being hidden from a kaiser or a czar.
But Harley and his friends soon found that they had laid upon themselves a great and onerous48 task, and to Harley, at least, it was all the heavier because he found, at last, that his heart was not wholly in it. Despite all their caution, references to the tariff debate would dribble49 in; Jimmy Grayson began to grow suspicious; he would ask about the work of the campaign orators50 in the East, and he seemed surprised that his friends, above all the correspondents, should have so little news on the subject.
"I should like to see some of the New York or Chicago newspapers, even if they are ten days old," he said. "It seems odd that we have not had any for a week now."
"We have been in isolated regions before, and we had the New York and Chicago newspapers every day."
Harley did not answer, and presently contrived53 some excuse for leaving Jimmy Grayson, being much troubled in mind, not alone because the candidate was growing suspicious, but because of a rising belief that he ought to know, that the truth should not be hidden from him. If the tariff was to be an issue, then the candidate should declare himself, cost what it might. Yet Harley, for the present, followed the course that he had set. But he shivered a little when he looked at the New York and Chicago newspapers that were smuggled54 about the train; the tariff question was swelling55 in importance, and the head-lines over the debates were growing bigger.
A stray copy of the _Monitor_ reached them, and it was big with prophecy: "At last the gauntlet has been thrown down by the wise, the conservative, and the high moral element of the party." It said, editorially: "Our impulsive56 young man will learn that there are older and soberer heads, and he must bow his own to them. The _Monitor_ has long foreseen this necessary crisis, although the blind multitude would not believe us, and we are both glad and proud to say that we have had our modest little share in forcing it."
The candidate sent for Harley the next noon, and when the correspondent entered the state-room set aside for his use, he saw that Mr. Grayson's face was grave. He held a yellow sheet of paper, evidently a telegraph form, in his right hand, and was tapping it lightly with the forefinger57 of his left hand.
"Harley," he said, smiling the frank smile that made him so many friends; "I've got in the habit of looking upon you as a friend and sort of confidential58 adviser59."
"It makes me happy to hear you say so," said Harley, who was gratified.
Jimmy Grayson looked at the telegram, and his face became grave. Then he handed it to Harley, saying, "I have here something that I do not altogether understand. Read it."
It was from New York, and it said:
"Your silence on tariff issue admirable. Keep it up. Don't let enemy force you into action."
It was signed with the name of a New York politician well-known as a trimmer.
Mr. Grayson looked Harley squarely in the eye, and the correspondent's face fell.
"Now what does it mean?"
Harley was silent.
"What does it mean?" continued Mr. Grayson, in a perplexed60 tone. "The tariff has not been a real issue in this campaign. Now why does he congratulate me on my silence?"
Harley did not speak and Jimmy Grayson's face grew grave.
"I am sorry that we have not been able to keep fully29 informed about the campaign in the East," he said. "I am bound to assume from this that the tariff issue has been raised there, and if a fight is to be made upon it I, as the head of the ticket, must do my share."
Then Harley confessed, and in doing so relieved his conscience, in which he was wise, both from the moral and prudential points of view, because the truth about the situation could not be hidden any longer from the acute mind of Jimmy Grayson. He concealed62 nothing, he showed that he was the leader of the conspiracy, and he described their devious63 attempts, with their relative success and failure.
"Harley," said the candidate, when the tale was told, "I am more than ever convinced that you are my sincere friend. You would not have done this if you were not. It was a mistake, but you certainly meant well."
"I did it because I thought I could help."
"I know it, but I repeat that it was a mistake. Such an important matter could not be kept permanently64 in the background. It was bound to come forward, and with all the greater force because it had been restrained so long. I don't think any harm has been done, but I'll have to take the management of it into my own hands now."
He smiled again with such frankness and sincerity65 that Harley's feelings were not hurt by his words, but he quickly realized the truth of his assertion about the increased force of the disclosure because it had been kept back so long. Now the avalanche66 struck them. When Harley left the state-room, Churchill came to him.
"Harley," he said, "the _Monitor_ has telegraphed me to get a thousand words from Mr. Grayson, if I can, on the tariff issue. My first duty is to my paper, and I am bound to obey these instructions."
"It's all right, he knows now; go right in to see him; but I am sure he won't talk to you about it; he isn't ready yet."
Three or four more correspondents received instructions of the same character, and in addition there was a rain of telegrams for Jimmy Grayson himself and for his party associates. It seemed that the issue had suddenly culminated67 in the East, and the candidate would be bound to speak. But the telegrams to Mr. Grayson were of a varying nature; many of them were opposed to revision, and they were usually signed by men of wealth and power, those who furnished the sinews of war, as necessary in a political campaign--and entirely within the confines of honesty, too--as the cannon68 and the rifles are on the field of battle. Others took another view, and it was apparent to everybody that great trouble in the party was at hand.
Gloom settled over the train. They were ready at all times to fight the enemy, but how to handle defection among their own men was a puzzling thing, and there was cause for despair. Sylvia, however, was glad that Mr. Grayson knew. She said that he would do right, whatever it might be.
"I've been in to see Mr. Grayson," said Mr. Heathcote to Harley, "and I suggested that he might continue his silence on the great question. You see, he is not bound to speak. If he doesn't want to, nobody can make him."
"No, nobody can make him speak, nor can anybody keep him from it if he wishes to do so."
While they talked the train was slowing down for a stop at a tiny village of a dozen houses, and when there a long telegram was brought to Mr. Heathcote. He read it with absorbed attention, and when he looked up at Harley his face showed relief.
"This is good! This is good!" he said. "The telegram is dated Chicago, and it tells me that a big committee of New York, Philadelphia, and Boston men is coming on to see Mr. Grayson. They are good members of our own party, all in favor of letting the tariff alone, and I think they can bring such pressure to bear that they will save us."
Harley himself felt relief. The committee might achieve something, and, at any rate, the responsibility would rest upon more heads.
"When can we expect these men?" he asked.
"In two days; they are already well on their way."
"Being an Eastern man yourself, it will fall to your lot to be the intermediary."
"I suppose so," said Mr. Heathcote, and he sighed a little.
True to Mr. Heathcote's prediction, the committee overtook them two days later at a way-station, and Harley saw at once that strenuous69 days were ahead, because the committee had a full sense of its own largeness and importance, a fact evident even to those less acute than Harley; and it was led by Mr. Goodnight and Mr. Crayon themselves. It was composed of eight men, all middle-aged70 or more, and every one was set in a way of thinking peculiar71 to the business in which he had spent many years and in which he had made much money.
All glittered with the gloss72 of prosperity. When they left the train they put on polished silk-hats, brought forth73 by ready servants, and when they walked through the streets of the little villages they were resplendent in long, black frock-coats and light trousers. They were not, as Mr. Heathcote had been in his primordial74 condition, young and merely mistaken, but they had passed the time of life when there was anything to be learned; in fact, they were quite well aware that they knew everything, particularly those subjects pertaining75 to the growth and prosperity of the country.
The leader of the committee was Mr. Clinton Goodnight, who, as has been told, was a manufacturer of immense wealth and also a member of the Lower House of Congress, thus combining in himself the loftiest attributes of law-making and money-making. He was helped, too, by a manner of great solemnity and a slow, deep voice that placed emphasis upon every alternate word, thus adding impressiveness to everything he said. He was assiduously seconded by Mr. Henry Crayon, thin-faced and alert as ever, speaking in short, snappy sentences, from which all useless adjectives were elided. Mr. Crayon was self-made, and was willing that it should be known. He, too, had fathomed76 the depths of knowledge.
They were introduced to Mr. Grayson by Mr. Heathcote, who, with useful experience of his own not far behind him, was able to show much tact77.
"I am glad to meet you again, Mr. Grayson," said Mr. Goodnight, in a large, rotund manner. "I am sorry I did not see more of you when we were together in the House. But you were very young then, you know. Who'd have thought that you would be so conspicuous78 now? I dare say you did not expect to see us here. We business-men are usually so much engrossed79 with affairs that we do not have time for politics, but there come occasions when our help, especially our advice, is needed, and this is one of them."
Harley saw a faint smile pass over the face of the candidate, but Jimmy Grayson was a man of infinite tact, which, instead of being allied80 to greatness, is a part of greatness itself, and he took no notice of anything in Mr. Goodnight's words or manner. On the contrary, he welcomed him and his associate with real warmth; he was glad to see the great business interests of the country represented in person in the campaign; it ought always to be so; if the solid men took more part in the elections it would be better for all.
Every member of the committee smiled a satisfied smile and admitted that Mr. Grayson's remarks were true. This was progress, as Harley could see. The committee may have come with advice and reprobation81 in its soul, but clearly it was placated82, for the present.
"We give proof of devotion to cause," said Mr. Crayon, in his sharp, snappy way. "Have come all the way from great financial centres to these lonely plains. Heavy sacrifice of time. Hope it will be duly appreciated."
"You can rest easy on that point," said Jimmy Grayson, as the faint smile again passed over his face. "Your intentions will be taken at their full value."
"We wish to have a long and thorough talk with you a little later on," said Mr. Goodnight. "The subject is one of the greatest importance, and the age and experience of the members of this committee fit us to deal with it."
"Undoubtedly," said Jimmy Grayson, and Harley thought that his voice was a little dryer83 than usual.
Fortunately the members of the committee had their own special car, equipped with many luxuries, and it was attached to Jimmy Grayson's train. Hence there was no crowding and no displacing of the old travellers, but it was clear that there were now two parties following the candidate, since the old and the new did not coalesce84. The members of the committee showed at once that they knew themselves to be the mainstay of the country, while the others were merely frivolous85 and unstable86 politicians.
Sylvia, of course, was eager to know what they had said and how they bore themselves, and Harley was anxious to gratify her.
"They said they were very great men, and they bore themselves accordingly."
"Uncle James is a greater man than all of them put together."
"I foresee trouble," said Hobart, joyfully87, to Harley a little later. "I can feel it in the air around me, I breathe it, I can even see it."
"Hobart," said Harley, pityingly, "you only obey your instincts."
"Wherein I am a wise man," replied Hobart, with satisfaction. "I am out here to get news, and the livelier the news the better. Now I think that these gentlemen will soon furnish us something worth writing about."
"I am afraid so," said Harley, despondently88.
The committee was in no haste to speak. Its members dined luxuriously89 in their private car, and invited to join them those whom they thought worthy90 of the honor--only a very few besides the ladies. Among these was Harley; but it was Jimmy Grayson who took him.
The conversation was exclusively commercial and financial. Mr. Goodnight, Mr. Crayon, and their associates were well aware that the whole science of government pertained91 to the development of trade, and it was the business of a people, as well as of a man, to stick to the main point. It was for this reason, too, that Mr. Crayon incidentally let it be understood that he did not value a college education. He had several university graduates working for him on small salaries, while he had never been inside the walls of a university, and that was the beginning and end of the matter; there could be no further discussion.
"I understand you are connected with the press," he said to Harley, who sat in the next chair. "I should think there was not much in that; but still, with careful, diligent92 man, it might serve as opening into financial circles. You must come in contact with men of importance. I know a man, originally a writer for press, who has risen to be a bank cashier. Worthy fellow."
"I am sure that he must be," said Harley, and Mr. Crayon's opinion of him rose.
The atmosphere of which Hobart spoke93 with such emphasis did not permeate94 the special car. There was no sign of trouble around the bountiful dining-table. The committee had its own way and did all the talking, leaving Mr. Grayson, Mr. Heathcote, and the others in silence. Hence there was no chance of a disagreement, and, as Harley judged, Mr. Goodnight and Mr. Crayon were assured that this pleasant state of affairs would continue.
Mr. Crayon, who was pleased with his neighbor, again gave Mr. Harley enlightenment. He asked him about the country through which they were passing, and was kind enough to consider his information of some weight. But he permitted Harley to furnish only the premises95; it was reserved for himself to draw the conclusions; he predicted with absolute certainty the future of this region and the amount of revenue it would yield through its threefold interests--agricultural, pastoral, and mineral. He added that only the trained mind could make these accurate estimates.
"Well, what happened?" asked Hobart, when Harley returned to his own car.
"Nothing."
"Nothing? Maybe so, but it won't remain nothing long. You just wait and see."
Sylvia, to whom these men were, of course, polite, summed them up very accurately96 in a remark that she made to Harley.
"It is impossible to teach them anything," she said, "because they know everything already."
An hour later the candidate spoke at a small station to a large audience composed of people typical of the region--miners, farmers, and cowboys, variously attired97, but all quiet and peaceful. There was not a sign of disorder98, there was nothing even remotely resembling the toughs of the great Eastern cities. This seemed to be a surprise to the members of the committee, who sat in a formidable semicircle on the stage behind the candidate. But as the surprise wore away a touch of disdain99 appeared in their manner; they seemed to doubt whether the region and its people were of any importance.
To Harley the speech of the morning was of particular interest, and he watched Jimmy Grayson with the closest attention. He wanted to see whether he would venture upon the treacherous100 ocean of the tariff, and he had been unable to draw from his manner any idea of his intention. But Jimmy Grayson did not launch his bark upon those stormy waters. He handled many issues, and never did he allow any one in the audience to doubt his meaning; it was a plain yea or nay101, and he drew applause from the audience or a disapproving102 silence, according to its feelings.
But the committee was satisfied, the faces of the members shone with pleasure, and Harley, reading their minds, saw how they told themselves of the quick effect their presence had upon Jimmy Grayson. It was well for men of weight to surround a Presidential candidate; despite himself, with strong, grave faces beside him he would put a prudent61 restraint upon his words. The long trip from the East and the temporary sacrifice of important interests was proving to be worth the price. When the speech was over, they congratulated him upon his caution and wisdom.
But that afternoon they were caught under a deluge103 of Eastern newspapers, and in them all the tariff discussion loomed104 formidably. There was every indication, too, that this big storm-cloud was moving westward105; already it was hovering106 over the Missouri River Valley, because the newspapers of Kansas City and Omaha, like those of Chicago and New York, fairly darkened with it.
And the telegrams, too, continued to fall on Jimmy Grayson thick and fast. They came in yellow showers; all the correspondents received orders to get long interviews with him upon the subject, if possible, and the leaders in every part of the country were telegraphing to do this and to do that, or not to do either. It was evident that a great population wanted to know just how Jimmy Grayson stood on the tariff.
The members of the committee took alarm; Harley saw them bustling107 in uneasily to Jimmy Grayson, and whispering to him much and often.
"It's begun! It's begun! The war is on!" said Hobart, gleefully. "I hear the dropping bullets of the skirmishers!"
But he knew Hobart's words to be true, and presently he drifted back to Jimmy Grayson.
"Mr. Harley is my intimate personal friend," said the candidate to some of the members of the committee who looked askance at the correspondent; "and what you say before me you can say before him. He knows what to print and what not to print."
"It is this," said Mr. Goodnight, and Mr. Crayon nodded violently in affirmation; "all the news shows that this tariff agitation110 is growing fast. But it is only a trick of the enemy to force an expression from us. They are united in favor of the tariff and we are not. There is a division within our ranks. Many of us, and I may say it is the more solid and conservative wing of the party, the men who really understand the world, know that it is not wise to meddle111 with the question. Leave well enough alone. We are interested in this ourselves, and, as you know, we furnish the sinews of war."
He stopped and coughed significantly, and Mr. Crayon also coughed significantly. The remaining members of the committee did likewise. Jimmy Grayson looked thoughtful.
"Gentlemen," he said, "I confess to you that my mind has been upon this subject for several days past."
"But you will listen to advice," said Mr. Goodnight, hastily.
"Certainly! Certainly!" said Jimmy Grayson. "But you see the time is coming when I must decide upon some course in regard to it. I appreciate the self-sacrifice of you gentlemen in leaving your business interests to come so far, and I shall be glad if we can co-operate. We reach Philipsburg to-night; I make a speech there, but it will be over early. Suppose we have our talk immediately afterwards."
The committee at once accepted the offer and expressed satisfaction. Mr. Grayson showed every sign of tractability112, and they began to feel again that their valuable time had not been expended113 in vain.
Harley told Sylvia that the affair was now bound to come to a head very soon, but she repeated her confidence in her uncle.
Hobart, however, was gloomy; his joy of the morning seemed to have passed quickly.
"I don't like it," he remarked to Harley. "Jimmy Grayson seems to have followed the lead of these men without once saying: 'I am the nominee and it is for me to say.'"
"And why not? Every dictate114 of prudence115 requires that he should. What is the use of taking up such a troublesome question at this late day of the campaign?"
"But there will be no fight!" This was said very plaintively116.
Harley smiled.
"I sincerely hope we will escape one," he said.
Mr. Grayson, after the brief talk, retired117 to his state-room, and for a long time did not see anybody. Harley knew that he was thinking deeply, and when the time came for the next speech at another way-station, he followed close behind and was keenly watchful.
Again the members of the committee arranged themselves on the stage in a formidable semicircle behind the speaker, and surveyed the audience with an air that bore a tinge118 of weary disdain. They were in one of the most barren parts of the country, a section that could never be developed into anything great, and Mr. Crayon looked upon a speech there as a sheer waste of time.
The candidate spoke upon many important issues, and then he began to skirmish gingerly around the edge of one that hitherto had been permitted to slumber119 quietly. He did not show any wish to make a direct attack, just a desire to worry and tease, as it were, a disposition120 to fire a few shots, more for the sake of creating an alarm than to do damage.
The committee at once felt apprehension121. This was forbidden ground. The candidate was growing entirely too frivolous; he should be reminded of his duty to the country and to great business interests. Yet they could do nothing at the moment; Mr. Grayson was speaking, and it was impossible to interrupt him.
But Harley, attentive122 and knowing everything that passed in their minds, enjoyed their uneasiness. He saw them quiver and shrink, and then grow angry, as Mr. Grayson skirmished closer and closer to the forbidden ground, that area sown with traps and pitfalls123, in which many a man has broken his political limbs, yea, has even lost his political life. He watched the massive Mr. Goodnight as he swelled124 with importance and indignation. He knew that the great manufacturer was on pins to get at the candidate, to tell him the terrible mistake that he was so near to making, and perhaps to lecture him a little on the indiscretions of youth and inexperience. But, perforce, he remained silent until Mr. Grayson concluded, and then as the crowd was leaving, he approached him. The candidate seemed to be in a light and joyous125 humor, and he lifted his hand in a gesture that was a dismissal of care.
"Remember our coming conference to-night, Mr. Goodnight," he said. "We will discuss everything then."
He smiled as he spoke, and walked on, but Mr. Goodnight felt himself waved aside in a manner that was not pleasing to his sense of dignity; he was sixty years old, and he had done great things in the world.
Harley and Hobart saw it all, and light began to appear on Hobart's gloomy countenance126.
"Harley," he said, "I believe that after all my first intuition was correct. We may yet have trouble."
Harley was not so sure. It seemed to him that the affair, which was really not an affair, merely the bud and promise of one, could be adjusted, especially in these shortening days of the campaign. Tact would do it, and he was full of hope.
The members of the committee went into their private car and were inhospitable the remainder of the day; apparently127 they wished to be alone, and no one was inclined to violate their wish. Harley supposed that they were in conference, and he was correct.
They arrived at Philipsburg in a gorgeous twilight128 that wrapped the Western mountains in red and gold, but Harley scarcely noticed either the town or the colors over it. He was full of anxiety, as he began to share Hobart's view that something was going to happen, although he did not take the same cheerful view of trouble.
The speech at Philipsburg was not long. Again Jimmy Grayson skirmished around the dangerous question, but, as before, he did not make any direct attack upon it. Just when the committee became most alarmed, he withdrew his forces, and the speech once more closed with the decisive things unsaid.
But as soon as the crowd dispersed129, the Great Philipsburg Conference began. The large parlor130 of the hotel had been obtained, and when Jimmy Grayson started, he put his hand on Harley's shoulder, saying:
"Harley, the press is excluded from this conference, which is secret, but I take you with me in your capacity as a private citizen. I have made it a requisite131 with the committee, because you are a friend and I may need your help."
Harley gave him a glance of gratitude132 and appreciation133, and the two together entered the designated room. It was a large, cheerful apartment, with a wood-fire burning on the broad hearth134. The members of the committee were already there, and Mr. Goodnight stood importantly, back to the fire, with a hand in either pocket, and a coat-tail under either arm. Mr. Crayon leaned against the wall and gently stroked his arm.
They exchanged the usual commonplaces about the weather and the campaign, and, as they spoke, most of the committee looked darkly at Harley, but they said nothing. It was quite evident that his presence was a matter arranged definitely by Mr. Grayson, and it was politic14 for them to endorse135 it.
Mr. Grayson settled himself easily into an armchair, and looked around as if to say he was ready to listen. Harley stood by a window, careless in manner, seemingly, but never more watchful in his life, and on fire with curiosity.
Mr. Goodnight glanced at Mr. Crayon, and Mr. Crayon glanced at Mr. Goodnight. There came at once to Harley an amusing thought about putting the bell on the tiger. But perhaps these men regarded themselves as tigers.
Mr. Goodnight gave a premonitory cough, and taking his hands out of his pockets let his coat-tails drop. This also was a signal.
"Mr. Grayson," he said, "we have admired your campaign--have admired it greatly; we have appreciated the skill with which you have kept away from dangerous subjects, and we have been sure that it would continue to the end, but I must confess that this confidence of ours was shaken a little to-day--I trust that I am not hurting your feelings."
"Oh no, not at all. I also have a statement to make," said Jimmy Grayson, ingenuously137. "But I shall be glad to hear yours first."
The big men were somewhat disconcerted, and Mr. Crayon spoke up briskly:
"You are right," said Jimmy Grayson, gravely. "A Presidential nominee ought always to listen to advice."
Mr. Goodnight's face cleared.
"We feel that we are in a position to speak plainly, Mr. Grayson," he said. "We are elderly men, used to the handling of large affairs, and--and this cannot be said of all others in our party. We noticed to-day how you skirted dangerously upon the tariff question, which we think--in fact, which we know--should be avoided. It is a dangerous thing, and we trust it is only an indiscretion that will not be repeated; or, perhaps, it might be a little sop139 to these people out here, who really do not count."
Harley glanced at Jimmy Grayson, who was distinctly in the position of one receiving a lecture from his elders, and, therefore, from those who knew more than he. But the face of the candidate expressed nothing save gravity and attention.
"That is quite true," he said.
"I am glad that you recognize our need," said Mr. Goodnight. "I do not know how you feel personally upon this great question, but, as I take it, politics and one's private opinion are different things."
Jimmy Grayson raised his head as if he were going to speak, but he let it drop without saying anything, and the great manufacturer continued:
"It is often necessary to submerge the lesser140 in the greater, and never was there a more obvious instance of it than this. We, and by 'we' I mean the great financial interests of the party, are interested in the tariff, and believe that it is best as it is. We do not know how you stand personally, but there is no question how you should stand politically. We men of finance may be in a minority within the party in the matter of votes, but perhaps we may constitute a majority in other and more important respects."
"All wings of the party are entitled to an opinion," said Jimmy Grayson.
"True, but the opinion of one wing may be worth more than the opinion of another wing," continued Mr. Goodnight; "and for that reason we who stand at the centres from which the affairs of America are conducted are here. We see the unwisdom of approaching such a subject, and, above all, the destruction that would be caused if you were to speak fully upon it. It is a topic that must be eliminated."
Harley saw a quick glitter appear in the eyes of Jimmy Grayson, and then it was shut out by the lowered lids.
"But if this is an issue, and if I am to judge from the overwhelming testimony141 of the press it is an issue," said Mr. Grayson, gently, "ought I not in duty both to my party and myself declare how I stand upon it? I freely confess to you that the matter looks somewhat troublesome, and, therefore, I am glad that we can consult with one another."
"Why troublesome?" exclaimed Mr. Crayon, shortly. "Seems to me, Mr. Grayson, that your shrewd political eye would see point at once. Above all things must avoid split in the party. Campaign will soon close, you are here in Far West, nothing can force you to speak, you avoid issue to the last; clever politics, seems to me."
And Mr. Crayon rubbed his smooth chin, his eye lighting142 up with a satisfied smile. Harley glanced again at Jimmy Grayson, and saw a frown pass over his face, but it was fleeting143, and when he spoke once more his voice was unemotional.
"Clever politics is a phrase hard to define," he said. "One does not always know just where cleverness lies. I have not said anything definite upon this issue, but it doubtless occurs to you gentlemen that I may have opinions."
The committee stirred, and Mr. Crayon and Mr. Goodnight looked at each other; it was evident to them that they had not taken the candidate in hand too soon. Harley felt no abatement144 of interest.
"That is just the point," said Mr. Goodnight, "and so we have come West. We felt that we must act."
Harley expected to see a flame of wrath109 appear on Jimmy Grayson's face, but the candidate was unmoved.
"Of course you know what would happen if you were to declare for reduction," said Mr. Goodnight. They seemed to take it for granted that if he declared at all it would be for reduction.
"Not at all," replied Mr. Grayson.
"But I do," said Mr. Goodnight, with emphasis. "The wealthy, the important wing of the party, would be bound to disown you."
"Ah!" said Jimmy Grayson.
Harley felt a thrill of anger, but he did not move.
The silent members of the committee, who were sitting, stirred in their chairs, and their clothes rustled145 importantly. They felt that equivocation146 and indirection were thrust aside, and the law was now being laid down.
"Then I am to understand that silence on this question is a requisite," said Mr. Grayson, mildly.
"Undoubtedly," replied Mr. Goodnight, with growing emphasis. "We are quite convinced of its necessity, and it is the demand that we make. A Presidential candidate must always listen to advice."
"But sometimes it has seemed to me," said Mr. Grayson, musingly147, "that in a Presidential campaign the public is entitled to certain privileges, or, rather, that it has certain rights, and chief among these is to know just how its candidate stands on any important issue."
"It would never do! It would never do!" exclaimed Mr. Goodnight, hastily, and with some temper. "We cannot allow it!"
Harley glanced again at Jimmy Grayson, but the candidate's lids were lowered, and no flash came from his eye.
"I put it forward in a tentative way," he said, in the same mild and musing136 tone. "Of course, I may be mistaken. I have received many telegrams from important people asking how I stand, and I notice that the press is discussing the same question very actively148."
"They can be waved aside," said Mr. Crayon, loftily. "Telegrams can go unanswered, and why bother about a foolish press?"
"Still," said Jimmy Grayson, mildly, but tenaciously149, "the public has certain rights."
"An ignorant mob that can be left in ignorance," said Mr. Crayon, briskly.
"Nothing must be said! Nothing must be said! Quite resolved upon that!" exclaimed Mr. Goodnight, brusquely.
"This resolution is unchangeable, I take it?" asked Jimmy Grayson, in tones milder than ever.
"There is not the least possibility of a change," replied Mr. Goodnight, in a tone of finality. "We have considered the question from every side, and nothing is to be said. Of course, if you were to declare for a revision, we should have to abandon you at once to overwhelming defeat."
"But I should like to say a few words upon the subject," said Jimmy Grayson, and there was a slight touch of pleading in his tone, "just as a sort of salve to my conscience. You see I am troubled about all these requests that I should declare myself, and I have certain ideas about what a candidate should do, in which I differ from you, and in which probably I am wrong, but I cannot help it. I should like to ease my mind, and hence I ask you that I be permitted to say a few words. Just one little speech, and I will not handle the subject again, if you direct me not to do so."
"We are against it; we are against saying a single word," declared Mr. Goodnight.
"Just one little speech," pleaded Jimmy Grayson. "I think the people are entitled to it. We stop to-morrow at a small station, a place of not more than twenty houses; I should like to say something there, and that would serve as a claim later on that I had not avoided the issue. But, as I said, I promise you that I will not touch the subject again without your permission."
"Don't believe in it! Don't believe in it!" said Mr. Crayon, snappily.
"I am afraid I shall have to insist," said Jimmy Grayson, plaintively. "I do not like to say anything that would displease150 such powerful friends, but our people are peculiar, sometimes. I feel that I must touch the subject a little when we reach Waterville to-morrow morning."
He spoke in his most propitiatory151 tones, but the committee was still stirred. Mr. Goodnight, Mr. Crayon, and their associates demanded absolute silence, and they had not found it difficult to overawe the candidate. Yet there was a certain mild persistence152 in his tone which told them that they should humor him a little, as one would a spoiled or hurt child. They, as men of the world, knew that it was not well to bear too hard on the bit.
They conferred a little, leaving Jimmy Grayson alone in his chair, where he remained silent and with inexpressive face. Harley still stood by the window. He had never spoken, but nothing escaped his attention. More than once he was hot with anger, but none of the committeemen ever looked at him.
"If you insist, and as you say you will, we yield this little point," said Mr. Goodnight, "but we only do so because Waterville is such a small place. Even then we are not sure that it is not an indiscretion, to call it by a mild name, and if anything should come of it you would have to bear the full responsibility, Mr. Grayson."
"That is true," said Jimmy Grayson, cheerfully, "but as you have said, Waterville is a small, a very small place; one could hardly find a smaller on the map."
"In that event it will doubtless do no harm," said Mr. Goodnight, relaxing a little, and Mr. Crayon, stroking his smoothly153 shaven chin, said after him: "No harm; no harm, perhaps, in so small a place!"
Harley had never moved from the window, and again he studied Jimmy Grayson's face with the keenest attention. Harley was a fine judge of character, but he could read nothing there, save gravity. As for himself, he felt often those hot thrills of anger at the words of these men; would nothing stir them from their complacency? He had, too, a sense of pain at Jimmy Grayson's lack of resentment154. It was true that their support was a necessity, but after all they were a minority within the party, and one might remind them of the fact. Yet Jimmy Grayson probably knew best; he understood politics, and perhaps his course was the wiser. But Harley sighed.
After the victory, although it had not been a difficult one to win, the members of the committee were disposed to condescend155 a little. They sent to their private car for champagne156 and other luxuries which the candidate and Harley touched but lightly, and they treated even Harley, the newspaper-man, with graciousness.
Mr. Crayon felt the flame of humor sparkling in his veins157, and he jested lightly on the little speech at Waterville. "Just think of our candidate wasting sweetness on desert air," he said, "for Waterville is in desert, and, as I am reliably informed, has less than forty inhabitants."
Jimmy Grayson showed no resentment, but smiled gravely.
"Of course Mr. Harley understands that all this is _sub rosa_," said Mr. Goodnight, looking severely158 at the correspondent.
"Mr. Harley knows it, and he is to be trusted entirely," said Jimmy Grayson. "Otherwise I should not have brought him with me. I vouch159 for the fact that he will say nothing of this meeting until we give him permission."
Mr. Grayson presently excused himself, on the plea that he needed sleep, a plea which was admitted by everybody, and Harley also withdrew, while the members of the committee went to their private car pleased with the evening's work. Thus the Great Philipsburg Conference came to an end.
The candidate and Harley walked together to their rooms through a rather dim hall, but it was not too dim to hide from Harley a singular expression that passed over the face of the candidate. It was gone like a flash, but it seemed to Harley to be a compound of anger and anticipation160. Wisely he kept silent, and Jimmy Grayson, stopping a moment at his own door, said, in the grave but otherwise expressionless tone that he had used throughout the discussion:
"Good-night, Harley; I don't think we shall forget this evening, shall we?"
"No," replied Harley, and he tried to decipher a meaning in Jimmy Grayson's tone, but he could not.
When Harley turned away, he found Hobart, Blaisdell, Churchill, and all the other correspondents waiting for him at the end of the hall to get the news of the conference.
"There is nothing, not a line," said Harley.
They looked at him incredulously.
"It is the truth, I assure you," continued Harley. "I am not sending a word to my own paper. I am going straight to my bed."
"If you say so, Harley, I believe you," said Churchill. "Besides, it's past one o'clock now, and that's past four o'clock in New York and past three in Chicago; all the papers have gone to press, and we couldn't send anything if we wanted to do so."
"There is nothing to tell you," said Harley, "except that Mr. Grayson will allude161 to the tariff in his speech to-morrow, or, rather, this morning, at Waterville. He has promised the committee not to do so again--they were not very willing to grant him even so little--but it is a sort of sop to Cerberus; later on, if any one twits him with avoiding the revision, he can say, and say truthfully, that he has spoken on it."
"I see," said Churchill.
And before they could ask him anything more Harley had entered his own room and was going to bed.
The morning dawned badly. The sun shone dimly through a mass of dirty brown clouds, and the mountains were hidden in mist. A slow and provoking cold rain was falling. It was also a start at the first daylight, and, forced to rise too early from their beds, all were in a bad humor. Even Sylvia was hid in a heavy cloak, and she did not smile. Harley had told her that he could make nothing of the conference the night before.
They reached Waterville an hour later, and they found it even smaller and bleaker162 than they expected. Although the usual body of citizens was on hand to meet them at the train, the attendance was less than at any point hitherto. The shed under which Jimmy Grayson was to speak would easily hold them.
But the members of the committee, when they came from their private car, showed satisfaction. They had enjoyed a good breakfast, their _chef_, as Harley could testify, was one of the best, and they were not averse163 to hearing the candidate make his record good. Hence they were all comfortably arranged on the platform in their usual solid semicircle when Mr. Grayson appeared. The candidate himself was a bit later than usual, but he gave them a cheerful good-morning when he appeared, and then proceeded at once to the matter of the speech.
The audience, though small, greeted Mr. Grayson with the heartiest164 applause, and he soon had them under his spell. He talked a while on the customary issues, and then he said:
"Gentlemen, there is one question which seemed in previous campaigns to be of paramount165 importance, but in this it has been suffered a long time to rest. Lately, however, it has been rising into prominence166 again. In the great centres of population to the eastward it has become a question first in the minds of the people, and before the campaign closes it is bound to become as momentous here."
Harley, in a seat at the corner of the stage, glanced at the committee, and he noticed a slight shade of disapproval167 on all their faces. The candidate was a little too strong in his preamble168, but they smiled again when they noticed his face which wore an expression so gentle and innocent.
"It has been but recently that the matter came to my attention," continued the candidate, in an easy, conversational169 tone, "but in the time since then I have been thinking about it a great deal. This question I need scarcely tell you is the revision of the tariff, and I am going to speak to you about it this morning."
There was a sudden cheer from the audience, and the people seemed to draw closer around the speaker's stand. Their faces glowed with interest. Sylvia sat up straight and her eyes sparkled. The committee looked a warning at Jimmy Grayson, but he did not see it.
"This question has come up late," he said, "and perhaps it could have been put aside. I have been told that it would be for the good of our party, particularly in this campaign, to do so, and many have advised me to keep silence, saying that I could consistently and honorably follow such a course, as our platform does not declare itself on the question; but there are some things that trouble me. This is an issue, I feel sure, which must be threshed out sooner or later, and as it is now so importantly before the country I think that I, as the standard-bearer of our party, should have an opinion upon it."
The audience cheered again, and longer and louder than ever. Sylvia's eyes not only sparkled, they flashed. Mr. Goodnight half rose in his seat and said something in a loud whisper to the candidate, but Mr. Grayson did not hear it and went on with his speech.
"It did not take me long to make up my mind," he continued. "I have decided opinions upon the subject, and what they are I shall tell you before I leave this stage; but first I want to tell you a story."
Mr. Grayson did not tell stories often; he did so only when they were thoroughly170 relevant, and Hobart, Blaisdell, and the other correspondents leaned forward with sudden interest. Sylvia's face glowed.
"I think I'll sharpen my lead-pencils," said Hobart.
"I would if I were you," said Harley.
"This story," continued the candidate, in an easy, confidential manner, "is about a man who was in a position much like mine. He was the nominee of his party for a most important office, and towards the close of his campaign a great issue came up again, just as in my case. He did not think that he ought to keep silent about it, but when he was thinking over what he ought to say a committee of men, representing a minority in his party, arrived from the great centres of population, industry, and finance--he was then far away in a thinly settled and somewhat isolated region."
Again the committee stirred, and they whispered loudly both to one another and to Mr. Grayson, but he paid no heed171 to them and spoke on. All the correspondents were writing rapidly, eagerly, and with rapt attention, while Sylvia's eyes still sparkled and flashed.
"Well, the members of this committee and the man met," continued the candidate, "and from the first they treated him as one who might have an opinion of his own b
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fore
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| adv.在前面；adj.先前的；在前部的；n.前部 | |
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picturesque
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| adj.美丽如画的，（语言）生动的，绘声绘色的 | |
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momentous
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| adj.重要的，重大的 | |
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climax
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| n.顶点；高潮；v.(使)达到顶点 | |
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seethed
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| （液体）沸腾( seethe的过去式和过去分词 )； 激动，大怒； 强压怒火； 生闷气(~with sth|~ at sth) | |
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eastward
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tariff
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| n.关税，税率；(旅馆、饭店等)价目表，收费表 | |
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acorns
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| n.橡子，栎实( acorn的名词复数 ) | |
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presidency
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| n.总统(校长，总经理)的职位(任期) | |
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banking
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| n.银行业，银行学，金融业 | |
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decided
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creed
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| n.信条；信念，纲领 | |
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plank
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| n.板条，木板，政策要点，政纲条目 | |
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politic
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| adj.有智虑的；精明的；v.从政 | |
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dreaded
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dread
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odds
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consolidated
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impervious
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prospered
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premium
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abide
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devoutly
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steer
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amiability
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rippling
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transformation
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despatch
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| n./v.(dispatch)派遣；发送；n.急件；新闻报道 | |
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fully
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immediate
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populous
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entirely
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devoted
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bully
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conspiracy
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promising
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sullen
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delicacy
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allusions
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faction
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postpone
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diplomacy
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nominee
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| n.被提名者；被任命者；被推荐者 | |
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watchful
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| adj.注意的，警惕的 | |
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labors
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| v.努力争取(for)( labor的第三人称单数 )；苦干；详细分析；（指引擎）缓慢而困难地运转 | |
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censored
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| 受审查的，被删剪的 | |
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47
rigid
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| adj.严格的，死板的；刚硬的，僵硬的 | |
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48
onerous
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| adj.繁重的 | |
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49
dribble
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| v.点滴留下，流口水；n.口水 | |
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50
orators
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| n.演说者，演讲家( orator的名词复数 ) | |
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51
metropolitan
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| adj.大城市的，大都会的 | |
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52
isolated
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| adj.与世隔绝的 | |
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53
contrived
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| adj.不自然的，做作的；虚构的 | |
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54
smuggled
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| 水货 | |
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55
swelling
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| n.肿胀 | |
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56
impulsive
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| adj.冲动的，刺激的；有推动力的 | |
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57
forefinger
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| n.食指 | |
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58
confidential
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| adj.秘（机）密的，表示信任的，担任机密工作的 | |
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59
adviser
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| n.劝告者，顾问 | |
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60
perplexed
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| adj.不知所措的 | |
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61
prudent
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| adj.谨慎的，有远见的，精打细算的 | |
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62
concealed
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| a.隐藏的，隐蔽的 | |
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63
devious
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| adj.不坦率的，狡猾的；迂回的，曲折的 | |
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64
permanently
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| adv.永恒地，永久地，固定不变地 | |
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65
sincerity
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| n.真诚，诚意；真实 | |
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66
avalanche
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| n.雪崩，大量涌来 | |
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67
culminated
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| v.达到极点( culminate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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68
cannon
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| n.大炮，火炮；飞机上的机关炮 | |
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69
strenuous
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| adj.奋发的，使劲的；紧张的；热烈的，狂热的 | |
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70
middle-aged
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| adj.中年的 | |
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71
peculiar
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| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
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72
gloss
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| n.光泽，光滑；虚饰；注释；vt.加光泽于；掩饰 | |
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73
forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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74
primordial
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| adj.原始的；最初的 | |
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75
pertaining
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| 与…有关系的，附属…的，为…固有的(to) | |
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76
fathomed
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| 理解…的真意( fathom的过去式和过去分词 )； 彻底了解； 弄清真相 | |
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77
tact
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| n.机敏，圆滑，得体 | |
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78
conspicuous
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| adj.明眼的，惹人注目的；炫耀的，摆阔气的 | |
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79
engrossed
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| adj.全神贯注的 | |
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80
allied
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| adj.协约国的；同盟国的 | |
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81
reprobation
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| n.斥责 | |
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82
placated
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| v.安抚，抚慰，使平静( placate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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83
dryer
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| n.干衣机，干燥剂 | |
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84
coalesce
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| v.联合，结合，合并 | |
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85
frivolous
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| adj.轻薄的；轻率的 | |
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86
unstable
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| adj.不稳定的，易变的 | |
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87
joyfully
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| adv. 喜悦地, 高兴地 | |
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88
despondently
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| adv.沮丧地，意志消沉地 | |
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89
luxuriously
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| adv.奢侈地，豪华地 | |
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90
worthy
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| adj.(of)值得的，配得上的；有价值的 | |
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91
pertained
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| 关于( pertain的过去式和过去分词 )； 有关； 存在； 适用 | |
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92
diligent
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| adj.勤勉的，勤奋的 | |
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93
spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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94
permeate
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| v.弥漫，遍布，散布；渗入，渗透 | |
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95
premises
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| n.建筑物，房屋 | |
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96
accurately
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| adv.准确地，精确地 | |
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97
attired
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| adj.穿着整齐的v.使穿上衣服，使穿上盛装( attire的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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98
disorder
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| n.紊乱，混乱；骚动，骚乱；疾病，失调 | |
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99
disdain
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| n.鄙视，轻视；v.轻视，鄙视，不屑 | |
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100
treacherous
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| adj.不可靠的，有暗藏的危险的；adj.背叛的，背信弃义的 | |
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101
nay
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| adv.不；n.反对票，投反对票者 | |
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102
disapproving
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| adj.不满的，反对的v.不赞成( disapprove的现在分词 ) | |
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103
deluge
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| n./vt.洪水，暴雨，使泛滥 | |
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104
loomed
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| v.隐约出现，阴森地逼近( loom的过去式和过去分词 )；隐约出现，阴森地逼近 | |
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105
westward
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| n.西方，西部；adj.西方的，向西的；adv.向西 | |
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106
hovering
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| 鸟( hover的现在分词 )； 靠近（某事物）； （人）徘徊； 犹豫 | |
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107
bustling
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| adj.喧闹的 | |
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108
exult
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| v.狂喜，欢腾；欢欣鼓舞 | |
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109
wrath
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| n.愤怒，愤慨，暴怒 | |
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110
agitation
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| n.搅动；搅拌；鼓动，煽动 | |
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111
meddle
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| v.干预，干涉，插手 | |
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112
tractability
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| 温顺，易处理，易加工的东西 | |
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113
expended
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| v.花费( expend的过去式和过去分词 )；使用（钱等）做某事；用光；耗尽 | |
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114
dictate
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| v.口授；(使)听写；指令，指示，命令 | |
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115
prudence
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| n.谨慎，精明，节俭 | |
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116
plaintively
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| adv.悲哀地，哀怨地 | |
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117
retired
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| adj.隐退的，退休的，退役的 | |
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118
tinge
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| vt.(较淡)着色于，染色；使带有…气息；n.淡淡色彩，些微的气息 | |
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119
slumber
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| n.睡眠，沉睡状态 | |
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120
disposition
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| n.性情，性格；意向，倾向；排列，部署 | |
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121
apprehension
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| n.理解，领悟；逮捕，拘捕；忧虑 | |
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122
attentive
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| adj.注意的，专心的；关心(别人)的，殷勤的 | |
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123
pitfalls
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| （捕猎野兽用的）陷阱( pitfall的名词复数 )； 意想不到的困难，易犯的错误 | |
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124
swelled
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| 增强( swell的过去式和过去分词 )； 肿胀； （使）凸出； 充满（激情） | |
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125
joyous
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| adj.充满快乐的；令人高兴的 | |
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126
countenance
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| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
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127
apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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128
twilight
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| n.暮光，黄昏；暮年，晚期，衰落时期 | |
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129
dispersed
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| adj. 被驱散的, 被分散的, 散布的 | |
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130
parlor
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| n.店铺，营业室；会客室，客厅 | |
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131
requisite
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| adj.需要的，必不可少的；n.必需品 | |
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132
gratitude
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| adj.感激，感谢 | |
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133
appreciation
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| n.评价；欣赏；感谢；领会，理解；价格上涨 | |
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134
hearth
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| n.壁炉炉床，壁炉地面 | |
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135
endorse
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| vt.(支票、汇票等)背书，背署；批注；同意 | |
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136
musing
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| n. 沉思，冥想 adj. 沉思的, 冥想的 动词muse的现在分词形式 | |
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137
ingenuously
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| adv.率直地，正直地 | |
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138
nominees
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| n.被提名者，被任命者( nominee的名词复数 ) | |
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139
sop
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| n.湿透的东西，懦夫；v.浸，泡，浸湿 | |
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140
lesser
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| adj.次要的，较小的；adv.较小地，较少地 | |
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141
testimony
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| n.证词；见证，证明 | |
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142
lighting
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| n.照明，光线的明暗，舞台灯光 | |
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143
fleeting
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| adj.短暂的，飞逝的 | |
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144
abatement
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| n.减(免)税，打折扣，冲销 | |
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145
rustled
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| v.发出沙沙的声音( rustle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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146
equivocation
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| n.模棱两可的话，含糊话 | |
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147
musingly
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| adv.沉思地，冥想地 | |
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148
actively
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| adv.积极地，勤奋地 | |
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149
tenaciously
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| 坚持地 | |
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150
displease
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| vt.使不高兴，惹怒；n.不悦，不满，生气 | |
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151
propitiatory
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| adj.劝解的；抚慰的；谋求好感的；哄人息怒的 | |
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152
persistence
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| n.坚持，持续，存留 | |
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153
smoothly
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| adv.平滑地，顺利地，流利地，流畅地 | |
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154
resentment
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| n.怨愤，忿恨 | |
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155
condescend
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| v.俯就，屈尊；堕落，丢丑 | |
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156
champagne
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| n.香槟酒；微黄色 | |
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157
veins
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| n.纹理；矿脉( vein的名词复数 )；静脉；叶脉；纹理 | |
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158
severely
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| adv.严格地；严厉地；非常恶劣地 | |
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159
vouch
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| v.担保；断定；n.被担保者 | |
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160
anticipation
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| n.预期，预料，期望 | |
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161
allude
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| v.提及，暗指 | |
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162
bleaker
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| 阴冷的( bleak的比较级 )； （状况）无望的； 没有希望的； 光秃的 | |
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163
averse
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| adj.厌恶的；反对的，不乐意的 | |
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164
heartiest
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| 亲切的( hearty的最高级 )； 热诚的； 健壮的； 精神饱满的 | |
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165
paramount
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| a.最重要的，最高权力的 | |
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166
prominence
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| n.突出；显著；杰出；重要 | |
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167
disapproval
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| n.反对，不赞成 | |
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168
preamble
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| n.前言；序文 | |
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169
conversational
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| adj.对话的，会话的 | |
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170
thoroughly
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| adv.完全地，彻底地，十足地 | |
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171
heed
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| v.注意，留意；n.注意，留心 | |
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