The public had, with the help of some clever intrigue, driven its servants into the traces.

Even an Indiana stone-cutter could be taught that his personal prejudices must yield to the public service.

What mischief the selfishness, the ambition, or the ignorance of these men might do, was another matter.

As the affair stood, the President was the victim of his own schemes.

It remained to be seen whether, at some future day, Mr.Ratcliffe would think it worth his while to strangle his chief by some quiet Eastern intrigue, but the time had gone by when the President could make use of either the bow-string or the axe upon him.
All this passed while Mrs.Lee was quietly puzzling her poor little brain about her duty and her responsibility to Ratcliffe, who, meanwhile, rarely failed to find himself on Sunday evenings by her side in her parlour, where his rights were now so well established that no one presumed to contest his seat, unless it were old Jacobi, who from time to time reminded him that he was fallible and mortal.