nceal her feelings. Just
now she felt no inclination to do it, and she gave Wade dance after
dance, with reckless disregard of her engagements and of the
ill-concealed anger of some of the men she threw over with utter
carelessness of social obligation.

Wade saw it clearly enough, but the preference she showed for him was so
flattering as to make him indifferent, even had he considered himself
responsible. He was therefore amused rather than exultant when man after
man came up to claim a dance, only to be told "I just promised this one
to Mr. Wade."

One such there was, who took his rebuff exceeding ill. Instead of
retiring as the others had done, he stepped up closer to the girl and
said rudely, "That's all very well, Helen, but you promised me first,
and I hold you to it."

And he looked contemptuously at Wade who had started in surprise at his
words, and had stiffened himself instinctively, as if to interfere, but
who controlled himself instantly and kept silent despite his
inclination.

A moment later he was glad he had done so. Helen's eyes flashed and she
straightened her form proudly as she spoke.

"Did I really promise you, Race Moran? If I did, I have forgotten it,
and anyhow, I am going to sit this dance out with Mr. Wade in the
conservatory."

Race Moran, as she called him, was a handsome enough man, though rather
flashy in appearance. But the evil look that came quickly on his face,
no less than his huge and burly build, indicated that he would have been
more at home in a barroom or a street fight, than where he was. For just
a moment he seemed about to say more, but apparently thought better of
it, and turning away with what sounded like a muttered oath, he walked
toward the Senator, who stood at the other side of the room.

"I've made an enemy for you, Mr. Wade," said Helen, half laughingly and
half seriously, as she led the way to the conservatory, closely followed
by her eager escort.

"Well," said Wade lightly, "they say a man is poor, indeed, who hasn't a
few enemies. I don't know that one more or less is of great importance,
but it is well to know something about them. Who is the gentleman?"

"I hardly think you would call him a gentleman," said Helen, "though he
thinks he's one; I wouldn't tolerate him a moment, only on my father's
account. Dad calls him a political heeler, and says he is very useful."

"He ought to be that," said Wade, smiling; "I'd hardly call him
ornamental."

"Ind