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Trumps: A Novel, a novel by George William Curtis |
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Chapter 83. Mrs. Delilah Jones |
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_ CHAPTER LXXXIII. MRS. DELILAH JONES Mr. Newt's political friends in New York were naturally anxious when he went to Washington. They had constant communication with the Honorable Mr. Ele in regard to his colleague; for although they were entirely sure of Mr. Ele, they could not quite confide in Mr. Newt, nor help feeling that, in some eccentric moment, even his interest might fail to control him. "The truth is, I begin to be sick of it," said General Belch to the calm William Condor. That placid gentleman replied that he saw no reason for apprehension. "But he may let things out, you know," said Belch. "Yes, but is not our word as good as his," was the assuring reply. "Perhaps, perhaps," said General Belch, dolefully. But Belch and Condor were forgotten by the representative they had sent to Congress when he once snuffed the air of Washington. There was something grateful to Abel Newt in the wide sphere and complicated relations of the political capital, of which the atmosphere was one of intrigue, and which was built over the mines and countermines of selfishness. He hoodwinked all Belch's spies, so that the Honorable Mr. Ele could never ascertain any thing about his colleague, until once when he discovered that the report upon the Grant was to be brought in within a day or two by the Committee, and that it would be recommended, upon which he hastened to Abel's lodging. He found him smoking as usual, with a decanter at hand. It was past midnight, and the room was in the disorder of a bachelor's sanctum. Mr. Ele seated himself carelessly, so carelessly that Abel saw at once that he had come for some very particular purpose. He offered his friend a tumbler and a cigar, and they talked nimbly of a thousand things. Who had come, who had gone, and how superb Mrs. Delilah Jones was, who had suddenly appeared upon the scene, invested with mystery, and bringing a note to each of the colleagues from General Belch. "Mrs. Delilah Jones," said that gentleman, in a private note to Ele, "is our old friend, Kitty Dunham. She appears in Washington as the widow of a captain in the navy, who died a few years since upon the Brazil station. She can be of the greatest service to us; and you must have no secrets from each other about our dear friend, who shall be nameless." To Abel Newt, General Belch wrote: "My dear Newt, the lady to whom I have given a letter to you is daughter of an old friend of my family. She married Captain Jones of the navy, whom she lost some years since upon the Brazil station. She has seen the world; has money; and comes to Washington to taste life, to enjoy herself--to doff the sables, perhaps, who knows? Be kind to her, and take care of your heart. Don't forget the Grant in the arms of Delilah! Yours, Belch." Abel Newt, when he received this letter, looked over his books of reports and statistics. "Captain Jones--Brazil station," he said, skeptically, to himself. But he found no such name or event in the obituaries; and he was only the more amused by his friend Belch's futile efforts at circumvention and control. "My dear Belch," he replied, after he had made his investigations, "I have your private note, but I have not yet encountered the superb Delilah; nor have I forgotten what you said to me about working 'em through their wives, and sisters, etc. I shall not begin to forget it now, and I hope to make the Delilah useful in the campaign; for there are goslings here, more than you would believe. Thank you for such an ally. You, at least, were not born to fail. Yours, A. Newt." "Goslings, are there? I believe you," said Belch to himself, inwardly chuckling as he read and folded Abel's letter. "Ally, hey? Well, that is good," he continued, the chuckle rising into a laugh. "Well, well, I thought Abel Newt was smart; but he doesn't even suspect, and I have played a deeper game than was needed." "I guess that will fix him," said Abel, as he looked over his letter, laughed, folded it, and sent it off. Mr. Ele by many a devious path at length approached the object of his visit, and hoped that Mr. Newt would flesh his maiden sword in the coming fray. Abel said, without removing his cigar, "I think I shall speak." He said no more. Mr. Ele shook his foot with inward triumph. "The Widow Jones will do a smashing business this winter, I suppose," he said, at length. "Likely," replied Newt. "Know her well?" "Pretty well." Mr. Ele retired, for he had learned all that his friend meant he should know. "Do I know Delilah?" laughed Abel Newt to himself, as he said "Good-night, Ele." Yes he did. He had followed up his note to General Belch by calling upon the superb Mrs. Delilah Jones. But neither the skillful wig, nor the freshened cheeks, nor the general repairs which her personal appearance had undergone, could hide from Abel the face of Kitty Dunham, whom he had sometimes met in other days when suppers were eaten in Grand Street and wagons were driven to Cato's. He betrayed nothing, however; and she wrote to General Belch that she had disguised herself so that he did not recall her in the least. Abel was intensely amused by the espionage of the Honorable Mr. Ele and the superb Jones. He told his colleague how greatly he had been impressed by the widow--that she was really a fascinating woman, and, by Jove! though she was a widow, and no longer twenty, still there were a good many worse things a man might do than fall in love with her. 'Pon honor, he did not feel altogether sure of himself, though he thought he was hardened if any body was. Mr. Ele smiled, and said, in a serious way, that she was a splendid woman, and if Abel persisted he must look out for a rival. "For I thought it best to lead him on," he wrote to his friend Belch. As for the lady herself, Abel was so dexterous that she really began to believe that she might do rather more for herself than her employers. He brought to bear upon her the whole force of the fascination which had once been so irresistible; and, like a blowpipe, it melted out the whole conspiracy against him without her knowing that she had betrayed it. The point of her instructions from Belch was that she was to persuade him to be constant to the Grant at any price. "To-morrow, then, Mr. Newt," she said to him, as they stood together in the crush of a levee at the White House--"our bill is to be reported, and favorably." Mrs. Delilah Jones was a pretty woman, and shrewd. She had large eyes; languishing at will--at will, also, bright and piercing. Her face was a smiling, mobile face; the features rather coarse, the expression almost vulgar, but the vulgarity well concealed. She was dressed in the extreme of the mode, and drew Mr. Newt's arm very close to her as she spoke. She observed that Mr. Newt was more than usually disposed to chat. The honorable representative had dined. "Our bill, Lady Delilah? Thank you for that," said Abel, in a low voice, and almost pressing the hand that lay upon his close-held arm. The reply was a slow turn of the head, and a half languishment in the eyes as they sought his with the air of saying, "Would you deceive a woman who trusts in you utterly?" They moved out of the throng a little, and stood by the window. "I wish I dared to ask you one thing as a pure favor," said the superb Mrs. Delilah Jones, and this time the eyes were firm and bright. "I hoped, by this time, that you dared every thing," replied Abel, with a vague reproach in his tone. Mrs. Jones looked at him for a moment with a look of honest inquiry in her eyes. His own did not falter. Their expression combined confidence and respect. "May I then ask," she said, earnestly, and raising her other hand as if to lay it imploringly upon his shoulder, but somehow it fell into his hand, which was raised simultaneously, and which did not let it go--. "For my sake, will you speak in favor of it?" she asked, casting her eyes down. "For your sake, Delilah," he said, in a musical whisper, and under the rouge her cheeks tingled--"for your sake I will make a speech--my maiden speech." There was more conversation between them. The Honorable Mr. Ele stood guard, so to speak, and by incessant chatter warded off the company from pressing upon them unawares. The guests, smiled as they looked on; and after the levee the newspapers circulated rumors (it was before the days of "Personal") that were read with profound interest throughout the country, that the young and talented representative from the commercial emporium had not forfeited his reputation as a squire of dames, and gossip already declared that the charming and superb Mrs. D-li-h J-nes would ere long exchange that honored name for one not less esteemed. When Abel returned from the levee he threw himself into his chair, and said, aloud, "Isn't a man lucky who is well paid for doing just what he meant to do?" For Abel Newt intended to get all he could from the Grant, and to enjoy himself as fully as possible while getting it; but he had his own work to do, and to that his power was devoted. To make a telling speech upon the winning side was one of his plans, and accordingly he made it. When the bill was reported as it had been drafted by his friends in New York, it had been arranged that Mr. Newt should catch the speaker's eye. His figure and face attracted attention, and his career in Washington had already made him somewhat known. During the time he had been there his constant employment had been a study of the House and of its individual members, as well as of the general character and influence of the speeches. His shrewdness showed him the shallows, the currents, and the reefs. Day after day he saw a great many promising plans, like full-sailed ships, ground upon the flats of dullness, strike rocks of prejudice, or whirl in the currents of crudity, until they broke up and went down out of sight. He rose, and his first words arrested attention. He treated the House with consummate art, as he might have treated a woman whom he wished to persuade. The House was favorably inclined before. It was resolved when he sat down. For he had shown so clearly that it was one of the cases in which patriotism and generosity--the finer feelings and only a moderate expense--were all one, that the majority, who were determined to pass the Grant in any case, were charmed to have the action so imposingly stated; and the minority, who knew that it was useless to oppose it, enjoyed the rhetoric of the speech, and, as it was brief, and did not encroach upon dinner-time, smiled approval, and joined in the congratulation to Mr. Newt upon his very eloquent and admirable oration. In the midst of the congratulations Abel raised his eyes to Mrs. Delilah Jones, who sat conspicuous in the gallery. _ |
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