He had never taken life seriously, and notwithstanding the fact that he had thought last night that the “Memory Fluid” possessed an uncanny element, he laughed to himself now, and declared the whole scene was an uproarious comedietta, in which he was about to present himself before the public as the buffoon. He chuckled at the thought of the prominence from a new point of view it would bring him, by submitting himself as a subject for the great scientists to further experiment upon. He had always been ambitious to shine before the public. He was chosen President of the United States, not because he was a great politician, or a man who had distinguished himself in the service of his country; quite the contrary. He came by chance, as it were, into the presidential chair. He had great wealth and good nature combined, and he allowed himself to be _used_ by his friends. It was a great plum he had secured by being good-natured, and his face constantly glowed with evident satisfaction. The two great political parties had ceased to agree amongst themselves, and on the eve of the great national election a black horse had been run into the ring and won the race. Each party was glad the other had not won the race, and each felt assured that the _black horse_ would not prove a serious stumbling-block to the many projects each party hoped to accomplish by the election of a man from its own party. Far beyond the most sanguine expectations of the people, he had proved a benefactor. His good-nature, coupled with his desire to do no one a wrong personally, and produce all the good possible to the nation, was a balm to the hurt minds of the two defeated parties. All of these things Mr. Mortingo knew very well, and reflected over them now with much satisfaction. It was the pleasant things of life he was seeking, and he had his full share. He accepted all favors shown him, even those from persons whom he knew to be enemies, and whose object in showing him courtesies was for the sole purpose of gaining some political favor or social prestige. He smiled as he stepped from the carriage, and thought of the sensation the step he was about to take would make upon the people. Governor Lehumada received him in his wonderful drawing-room, with the respect due his position, and at once presented the child, Catalina Martinet. She curtesied prettily and gave her tiny hand to the President. He kissed her bright face and asked her to sit on the chair placed by the one he was to occupy, and to excuse him one moment. Then he drew his arm through the arm of the Governor, and as they walked a few steps away, said: “Your Honor, does the child know I have come to see her?” “She does not, sir; at least she does not know by being told. I have, however, a feeling that she divined you were coming, and that you would talk to her upon the subject of a past existence,” replied the Governor.