He was transformed by her influence. His life had regained direction and certainty. No rebuff of the Speaker, no insult of a member, angered him. He was always in his seat, ready, whenever opportunity offered, to do battle against wrong knowing that Ida was watching him. Between times he went with her about the city, and his quiet and dignified attentions were a source of the keenest pleasure to her, he was so unobtrusively serene and gentle in all things. They went often to the theatre. They walked a great deal, and they were already marked figures about the Hill, they were both so tall and strong and handsome.
They always passed through the Capitol grounds on their way down town, for it gave them a little thrill of delight to pass the clumps of trees. On this evening the grounds were specially beautiful. A heavy fall of damp snow covered every twig and grass-blade. They walked slowly down the winding path till they reached the open lawn just before the western gate.
"Wait a moment, Bradley," said Ida. They turned to look back. The untracked, unstained snow swept in undulating breadth to the deep shadow of the great building, which rose against the sky as cold, as seamless, as if it were cut from solid ice. The yellow flare of lamps about its base only added to its austere majesty. It was at its best, and Ida and Bradley looked up at it in silence, hearing the jingle of bells, the soft voices of the negro drivers, the laughter of children coasting on the mall, and the muffled roll of the "carettes."
"It is beautiful to-night," said Ida softly. "The building is like a cloud."
"Yes, but I can't think of it without its antithesis, the home of the workingman and the hut of the poor negro," Bradley replied.
They moved on again in silence. Darky newsboys, shivering with cold, met them at every corner, holding out to them in their stiffened little claws their "Styah papahs."
The avenue swarmed with sight-seers, mainly of the West and South. Every hotel door was like the vent to a hive--black with comers and goers. The old man with the cough medicine met them again. They could repeat his singsong cry now, and with a little impulse of fun-making Ida joined in with him: "_Doc-ter Fergusson's double-ex selly-brated, Philadelphia cough drops, for coughs or colds, sore throat or hoarseness; five cents a package._"