Byrd wields awesome power within the Democratic caucus, most notably because he's the top member of the Appropriations Committee, which determines how much money gets spent on all sorts of federal projects.

This year, Hillary wanted very much to be on the Appropriations Committee. She was turned down. Byrd did not care for her husband in the slightest.

So the first week of Congress, Hillary went to see Robert Byrd. She spent an hour in his gilded Senate office, with its heavy chandelier and silk-lined sofa and giant oil painting of his wife, and asked him how to be a good senator. And he gave her a disquisition worthy of Polonius.

"I told her: 'To be a good senator, you've got to do your committee work and become an expert in legislation,' " he recalls. " 'Don't talk too often; you will have plenty of chances to speak. Make yourself a workhorse, not a show horse. And remember, behind every curtain and every drapery there is a monster called envy. Don't expect any favors; you start at the bottom, just like any other new senator.'

"And she said, 'I don't.' " He nods approvingly. "I was very favorably impressed. I didn't expect her to have this kind of attitude. I expected that she would come in here and she would expect a lot of special treatment. But there was none of that. She even took notes."

The day of Hillary's first vote, she again approached Byrd, this time on the Senate floor. She told him she was supposed to preside over the Senate that day -- to whom should she turn for a quick briefing on Senate procedure? He told her about the parliamentarian, Robert Dove. Then she asked if she could round up the other freshmen later that week so that Byrd himself could give them a little lecture on the Senate rules. "Now, wasn't that something?" he marvels, with a breathy twang. "I thought that was exceptional."

I predict: In two years, Hillary will be on the Appropriations Committee.

"There have been any number of people who've come into the Senate over the decades with a strike against them," muses Congressman Jerry Nadler, the Democrat who represents the West Side from Zabar's to Nathan's. "And hard work changed the opinion. Ted Kennedy is the obvious example. When he came in, everybody knew he didn't deserve to be there. And yet he turned out to be one of the best senators of the century."

Actually, Kennedy thinks Hillary's more qualified than he ever was. "She comes in, really, in a different situation," he says. "Because she was already very much involved in many of these issues -- like health and education -- as First Lady." While he, the implication is, was not. He was merely a Kennedy.

Back at that budget committee hearing, Hillary finally has a chance to speak. She thanks the chairman, Domenici, for having this panel -- "and the future panels that are planned, including a panel on coal, Senator Byrd, because I do think it is extremely helpful in forming our decisions when it comes to the budget issues we face."

Byrd smiles, pleased as punch.

"The colloquy between Mr. Simmons and Dr. Penner was of particular interest to me," she continues, and then speaks for about five minutes in a surprisingly relaxed, impassioned way, sounding nothing like she does at her heavily scripted press conferences. Her questions are sharp. The witnesses are impressed. If policy-speak were an aphrodisiac, she'd probably be the most seductive person alive.

She brings up Senator Byrd's pet project again. ("It's always struck me as rather unfortunate that we didn't make even greater investments in helping the market respond to clean coal demands . . .") Domenici thanks her. Then he asks whether everyone's finished with his or her statements and questions. The Democrats say they'd love just a few quick follow-ups, but Hillary has a lunch appointment. Domenici asks Byrd whether he minds if she goes before him.

"Well, actually, I'd wait for Senator Byrd, Mr. Chairman," says Hillary.

Byrd beams like a proud father. "I would suggest that the distinguished senator from New York proceed," he says. "I'd like to hear her, and I know she has a luncheon."

There was talk for a long time of Hillary's being a super-senator -- the next Ted Kennedy, taking to the floor whenever Republicans crossed some unthinkable Rubicon -- or perhaps even the next president. But for the moment, she has no choice but to focus her energies on New York, not just because of her recent pardon troubles but because her colleagues and constituents are closely, warily watching her to make sure she doesn't use the Senate floor as a glorified launching pad for another Clinton presidency. At least not immediately.

Besides, New York will need her full attention. With the recent departures of Daniel Patrick Moynihan and Alfonse D'Amato, the state has lost two seats on the Finance Committee, arguably the most powerful in the Senate. In the House, we're better off. "But if I have to fight and scratch for New York and not feel that I have anyone on the Finance Committee or the leadership over there," says Charles Rangel, Harlem Democrat and ranking member on the Ways and Means Committee, "it would be a problem."

There's another problem, too. "Maybe I'm being paranoid," says Nadler. But in Congress, "I suspect that there's a lot of anti-New York hostility, and that Hillary'll come across it from time to time, in addition to the hostility to her. You know, it's partly anti-Semitic, though I think that's fading. And I think New York also personifies, like Massachusetts, liberal Democrats. I mean, Newt Gingrich used to delight in picking on New York as the image of everything that was wrong."