de Haro, of course," said the lady vivaciously. "What are you
hurrying away so for? You're absolutely pulling me along."

Mr. Wiles had just caught sight of the travel-worn face of Royal
Thatcher among the crowd that thronged the stair-case. Thatcher appeared
pale and distrait: Mr. Harlowe, his counsel, at his side, rallied him.

"No one would think you had just got a new lease of your property, and
escaped a great swindle. What's the matter with you? Miss De Haro
passed us just now. It was she who spoke to the Senator. Why did you not
recognize her?"

"I was thinking," said Thatcher gloomily.

"Well, you take things coolly! And certainly you are not very
demonstrative towards the woman who saved you to-day. For, as sure as
you live, it was she who drew that speech out of the Senator."

Thatcher did not reply, but moved away. He HAD noticed Carmen de Haro,
and was about to greet her with mingled pleasure and embarrassment.
But he had heard her compliment to the Senator, and this strong,
preoccupied, automatic man, who only ten days before had no thought
beyond his property, was now thinking more of that compliment to another
than of his success; and was beginning to hate the Senator who had saved
him, the lawyer who stood beside him, and even the little figure that
had tripped down the steps unconscious of him.

CHAPTER XVI

AND WHO FORGOT IT

It was somewhat inconsistent with Royal Thatcher's embarrassment and
sensitiveness that he should, on leaving the Capitol, order a carriage
and drive directly to the lodgings of Miss De Haro. That on finding she
was not at home, he should become again sulky and suspicious, and even
be ashamed of the honest impulse that led him there, was, I suppose,
manlike and natural. He felt that he had done all the courtesy required;
he had promptly answered her dispatch with his presence. If she chose
to be absent at such a moment, HE had at least done HIS duty. In short,
there was scarcely any absurdity of the imagination which this once
practical man did not permit himself to indulge in, yet always with a
certain consciousness that he was allowing his feelings to run away with
him,--a fact that did not tend to make him better humored, and rather
inclined him to place the responsibility of the elopement on somebody
else. If Miss De Haro had been home, &c. &c., and not going into
ecstasies over speeches, &c. &c., and had attended to her business, i.
e., being exactly what he had