them sometimes, for the sake of the Utes and Apaches at least;'
and, with the sunniest of smiles, Miss Paulo withdrew from the office,
leaving, as it seemed to Mr. Wilkins, who was something of a poet in his
spare moments, the impression as of departed divinity. The atmosphere of
the hotel hall seemed to take a rosy tinge, and to be impregnated with
enchanting odours as from the visit of an Olympian. Mr. Wilkins had been
going through a course of Homer of late, in Bohn's translation, and
permitted himself occasionally to allow his fancy free play in classical
allusion. Never, though, to his credit be it recorded, did his poetic
studies or his love-dreamings operate in the least to the detriment of
his serious duties as head of the office in Paulo's Hotel, a post which,
to do him justice, he looked upon as scarcely less important than that
of a Cabinet Minister.

Since the day when Dolores first spoke to Hamilton about the danger
which was supposed to threaten the Dictator, she had had many talks with
the young man. It became his habit now to stop and talk with her
whenever he had a chance of meeting her. It was pleasant to him to look
into her soft, bright, deep-dark eyes. Her voice sounded musical in his
ears. The touch of her hand soothed him. His devotion to the Dictator
touched her; her devotion to the Dictator touched him. For a while they
had only one topic of conversation--the Dictator, and the fortunes of
Gloria.

Soon the clever and sympathetic girl began to think that Hamilton had
some trouble in his mind or in his heart which did not strictly belong
to the fortunes of the Dictator. There was an occasional melancholy
glance in his eye, and then there came a sudden recovery, an almost
obvious pulling of himself together, which Dolores endeavoured to reason
out. She soon reasoned it out to her own entire conviction, if not to
her entire satisfaction. For she felt deeply sorry for the young man. He
had been crossed in love, she felt convinced. Oh, yes, he had been
crossed in love! Some girl had deceived him, and had thrown him over!
And he was so handsome, and so gentle, and so brave, and what better
could the girl have asked for? And Dolores became quite angry with the
unnamed, unknown girl. Her manner grew all the more genial and kindly to
Hamilton. All unconsciously, or perhaps feeling herself quite safe in
her conviction that Hamilton's heart was wholly occupied with his love,
she allowed herself a certain t