cold little weird smile.

"He may marry her,"--she said--"And yet--I think not! But--if he does
marry her he will never love her--as he loves ME! How we play at
cross-purposes in our lives!--he is not a marrying man--I am not a
marrying woman--we are both out for conquest on other lines,--and if
either of us wins our way, what then? Shall we be content to live on a
triumph of power,--without love?"

CHAPTER XVII

"So the man from Washington told you to bring this to me?"

Roger Seaton asked the question of Manella, twirling in his hand an
unopened letter she had just given him. She nodded in the affirmative.
He looked at her critically, amused at the evident pains she had taken
with her dress and general appearance. He twirled the letter again like
a toy in his fingers.

"I wonder what it's all about? Do you know?"

Manella shrugged her shoulders with a charming air of indifference.

"I? How should I know? He is your friend I suppose?"

"Not a bit of it!" and Roger stretched himself lazily and yawned--"He's
the friend of nobody who is poor. But he's the comrade of everybody
with plenty of cash. He's as hard as a dried old walnut, without the
shred of a heart--"

"You are wrong!" said Manella, flushing up suddenly--"You are wrong and
unjust! He is an ugly old man, but he is very kind."

Seaton threw back his head and laughed heartily with real enjoyment.

"Manella, oh, Manella!" he exclaimed--"What has he said or done to you
to win your good opinion? Has he made you some pretty compliments, and
told you that you are beautiful? Every one can tell you that, my dear!
It does not need Mr. Senator Gwent's assurance to emphasise the fact!
That you find him an ugly old man is natural--but that you should also
think him 'very kind' DOES surprise me!"

Manella gazed at him seriously--her lovely eyes gleaming like jewels
under her long black lashes.

"You mock at everything,"--she said--"It is a pity!"

Her tone was faintly reproachful. He smiled.

"My dear girl, I really cannot regard Mr. Senator Gwent as a figure to
be reverenced!"--he said--"He's one of the dustiest, driest old
dollar-grabbers in the States. I gave him the chance of fresh grab--but
he was too much afraid to take it--"

"Afraid of what?" asked Manella, quickly.

"Of shadows!--shadows of coming events!--yes, they scared him! Now if
you are a good girl, and will sit very quiet, you can come into my hut
out of this scorching sun, and si