ence upon Winthrop, Stormont and all the others. Winthrop was
good-natured, avowing that he had no cause of quarrel with anybody if
nobody had any with him, and Redfield showed clearly his relief. It
seemed to Prescott that the Member of Congress had gone further than he
intended.

No breath of these stormy airs was allowed to blow from the smoking-room
upon the ladies, and when Prescott presently rejoined them he found
vivacity and gaiety still prevalent. Prescott's gaze dwelt longest on
Miss Harley, who was talking to the Secretary. He noted again the look
of admiration in the eyes of Mr. Sefton, and that feeling of jealousy
which he would not have recognized had it not been for Talbot's
half-jesting words returned to him. He would not deny to himself now
that Helen Harley attracted him with singular force. There was about her
an elusive charm; perhaps it was the slight trace of foreign look and
manner that added to her Southern beauty a new and piquant grace.

Mr. Sefton was talking in smooth, liquid tones, and the others had drawn
back a little in deference to the all-powerful official, while the girl
was pleased, too. She showed it in her slightly parted lips, her vivid
eyes and the keen attention with which she listened to all that he said.

Mrs. Markham followed Prescott's look. An ironical smile trembled for a
moment on her lips. Then she said:

"The Secretary, the astute Mr. Sefton, is in love."

She watched Prescott keenly to notice the effect upon him of what she
said, but he commanded his countenance and replied with a pretense of
indifference:

"I think so, too, and I give him the credit of showing extremely good
taste."

Mrs. Markham said no more upon the subject, and presently Prescott asked
of Miss Harley the privilege of taking her home when the club adjourned,
after the universal custom among the young in Southern towns.

"My shoulder is a little lame yet, but I am sure that I shall guard you
safely through the streets if you will only let me try," he added
gallantly.

"I shall be pleased to have you go," she replied.

"I would lend you my carriage and horses," said Mrs. Markham, who stood
by, "but two of my horses were killed in front of an artillery wagon at
Antietam, another fell valourously and in like manner at Gettysburg, and
the fourth is still in service at the front. I am afraid I have none
left, but at any rate you are welcome to the carriage."

Prescott laughingly thanked her bu