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Cope seated himself at his desk with loyalty, or at least with docility; and Lemoyne, putting on his hat and coat, started out for the fraternity house where the president of the club was in residence. Five minutes after Lemoyne's departure Cope heard the telephone ringing downstairs, and presently a patient, middle-aged man knocked at the door and told him the call was for him.
Cope had found a subject for his thesis in the great field of English literature, or, rather, in a narrow bypath which traversed one of its corners. The important thing, as he frequently reminded Lemoyne, was not the thesis itself, but the aid which it might give his future. "It will make a difference, in salary, of three or four hundred dollars," he declared.
The college authorities had not been satisfied, for some time, with his clerical labors, and some of them thought that his stage performance an "exhibition" one of them termed it called for reproof, or more. They laid their heads together and Lemoyne and Cope were not long in learning their decision.
The man who was destined to achieve what La Salle had been hindered from accomplishing only by the blunder of his pilots and the jealousy of his associates, was Jean Baptiste LeMoyne de Bienville.
They spent ten minutes in the clear winter air. As Cope, on their return, stooped to put his latch-key to use, Lemoyne impulsively threw an arm across his shoulder. "Everything is all right, now," he said, in a tone of high gratification; and Urania, through the whole width of her starry firmament, looked down kindly upon a happier household.
"It's awkward," returned Lemoyne, "but we're in for it. After all, it isn't her house, nor her family's. Besides, you've got me." Mrs. Phillips summoned Helga and another maid, who were just on the point of going to bed, and directed their efforts toward the chintz chamber. "Ah, well," thought M. Pelouse, "the fiance, then, is going to remain over night in the house of his fiancee!"
Lemoyne attempted to put some of his visualizings before Cope, but Cope cut him short. "Now I will settle down to work on my thesis," he said, "and get my degree at the June convocation." "Good," said Lemoyne; "and now I can get my mind on the club." He went to the window and looked out on the night. The stars were a-glitter. "Let's take a turn round the block before we turn in."
From Illinois three Democrats entered who became active in the partisan arena in after years, Carter H. Harrison, William M. Springer, and William A. J. Sparks. John V. LeMoyne, son of the eminent anti-slavery leader, Franics J. LeMoyne, entered as a Democratic member from Chicago.
Foster, a few days later, passed the comment on to Randolph, with an astringent comment of his own. At all events, Amy Leffingwell remained in the distance, and George Pearson shared the distance with her. Foster had broken from his retirement on hearing the voices of Cope and Lemoyne combined in song.
As he went on, he made Cope feel that he had violated an entente of long standing, and had almost brought a trusting friend down from home under false pretenses. But phrases from Amy's letter continued to plague Cope. There was a confiding trust, a tender who-could-say-just-what?... "Well," said Lemoyne, at about two o'clock, "let's put it off till morning. Turn over and go to sleep."
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