She saw a tall, handsome man approach the alcove. From dimly remembered lithographs she knew him to be the Governor, and as he approached in his dignified way, she studied him. He looked like a Governor. He was smooth-shaven, appearing younger than his years. He carried a look of authority, the presence of a personage. It was a fine presence, indeed, and one of incalculable value to him. It had been his chief asset in reaching the height to which he had climbed.... Her scrutiny told her nothing more than this. The man who approached might be a great man, a statesman, a man of tremendous depth and character--or he might be nothing but an appearance. She hoped he was a man. He entered and extended his hand to Fownes. “Glad you ran up,” he said, cordially. “I saw you come in, but couldn’t break away. How is Gibeon?” “Gibeon,” said Abner, “is flourishing.” The Governor turned his eyes from Fownes to Carmel, and they lighted an instant in tribute to her loveliness. “Your daughter?” he asked. “You don’t know the young woman?” Fownes said. “It is my misfortune,” said the Governor. “Um!... Possibly. Then, as I supposed, she is not here at your invitation?” The Governor looked from one to the other of them, and seemed distressed, embarrassed. He sensed a tenseness, a situation, and, of all things, he hated to face situations. “I don’t understand,” he said. Carmel stepped closer. “Governor,” she said, “I am not a guest. I came to see you to-day on an important matter--a matter of life and death. I went to your office, but you had gone. It was necessary to see you to-night.... So I came. I am an intruder--but I will go as quickly as I can.... After I have spoken with you.” Fownes shrugged his shoulders and laughed. “The young woman deserves to get ahead,” he said, “if effrontery can win success.... But, unfortunately, I know her, Governor. She owns a bankrupt, blackmailing rag in Gibeon.... That is unimportant, but, otherwise, I am sure your wife would not care to have her rubbing elbows with her guests.... In Gibeon----” he paused to allow the innuendo to take effect. “To prevent unpleasantness, or any chance of her recognition here, the best thing will be to call a servant and show her quietly to the street.” Carmel knew such hot rage as she had never known before. She could have struck Fownes. Hot words sprang to her lips, but she suppressed them, fought for self-control. She laid a tiny hand on the Governor’s arm. “Sir,” she said, “you occupy a great position this state. Thousands of people look up to you for the qualities you must possess.... Fairness must be among them. I insist that you listen to me now.... Abner Fownes, you have lied, deliberately and maliciously. You know there is no reason why I should not be here, no reason why any man or woman should object to my presence. It was a cowardly lie--told because you were afraid.”