The President was evidently annoyed, although he tried hard to hide his real feeling, and said: “We, too, Miss Motuble, were discussing the Governor’s able speech. He paid beautiful tributes of appreciation to the many charming women present.” “Your Honor, that is quite true; he is a great Chesterfield. He knows how to be gracious to the ladies, _homely_ ones as well as beautiful, timid ones,” said Mrs. Grange, as she turned her face full of earnest pleading up to his. The President did not reply in words, but the look he gave her, as he bent his head until it nearly touched hers, was proof enough to Marriet Motuble that he was afraid to trust his voice. His chest heaved with tender emotions inspired by Mrs. Grange, and one word would betray his real feeling. On neither of those two did the stirring events just passed, seem to have left any impression. Marriet Motuble well knew the mental calibre of the woman, and was not in the least astonished to find Mrs. Grange in the affected state she always assumed when with men. “But the President! the President!” exclaimed Marriet Motuble, mentally. “I cannot understand how the leader of our great nation can carry on a sentimental conversation with a brainless beauty (?) when the great city of Chihuahua is in such a state of excitement. There is no telling where the events just transpired will end. I for one am sorry this terrible calm is taking place. It seems to me a time of preparation for a greater shock. He is a great actor if he is mentally disturbed and can so completely disguise his true feelings. I will test him.”—“Say, President,” she cried, as she whirled her huge frame in front of the two, and interrupted the low conversation, “Governor Lehumada is a fine actor, is he not?” “In what way, pray, Miss Motuble?” “In the disguise of his real feelings.” “He is a heroic actor,” said Mrs. Grange. “He is, indeed,” curtly replied Miss Motuble, addressing herself to Mrs. Grange; then in a complete change of voice, said, speaking to the President, with her back half turned to Mrs. Grange, “I mean, your Honor, that the noble man yonder is in a high fever of excitement caused by the disturbance in the auditorium—for he realizes that it was just the beginning of a long conflict, the end of which cannot be seen by mortal eyes. Yet the noble man is able to conceal his feeling out of his great love for his people, and his desire to have the banquet end successfully.” “You know your people here better than I, Miss Motuble, this being your home; and pray, do you anticipate any further trouble?” “I know the city but little better than yourself, your Honor, except possibly in the way of remembrance.” Mrs. Grange, arousing herself from her passive state, said in a voice loud and cutting: “A _subject_ of that fluid also!” Ignoring her altogether, Marriet Motuble continued: