"That I shall." But I made up my mind that I should call on Nancy first. Otherwise it would be dangerous. I stood alone. It rather hurt to think one girl should remember me and that the other should absolutely forget. But supper brought me out of my cogitations. So once again I put away the slipper and looked at my supper-card. I was destined to sit at table four. I followed the pilgrims out to worship at the shrine of Lucullus. Evidently there was no Cinderella; or, true to her condition in life, she was at this moment seated before her ash-heap, surrounded by strutting and cooing doves. Well, well, I could put the slipper on the mantel at home; it would be a pleasant reminder. I found table four. There were four chairs, none of them occupied; and as I sat down I wondered if any one I knew would sit down with me. A heavy hand fell rudely upon my shoulder. "What do you mean, sir, by entering a gentleman's house in this manner?" demanded a stern voice. I turned, my ears burning hotly. "You old prodigal! You old man-without-a-country! You pirate!" went on the voice. "How dared you sneak in in this fashion? Nan, what would you do with him if you were in my place?" The voice belonged to Nancy Marsden's brother. "I have no desire to put myself in your place," said the only girl who _could_ be Cinderella. "I wouldn't bother about _his_ slipper, not if he went barefooted all his life," said I. And then, and then, and then! What a bombardment! How pleased I was! I was inordinately happy, and I didn't eat a thing till the salad. "How could you!" said Nancy. "But you didn't recognize me,"--with a show of defiance; "and I expected that you would be the very first." "Cut off that horrid beard." "To-morrow morning." "And never wear it again." "Never." "Have you found Cinderella?" Nancy asked presently. "No; but I haven't given up all hope." "Let me see it." With some hesitance I placed the slipper in her hand. She looked at it sharply. "Good gracious!" "What's the matter?" I asked. "Why, this slipper has _never_ been worn at all. It is brand new!" She was greatly bewildered. "I know it," I replied; "I brought it myself." Then how she laughed! And when I asked her to do it again she did, even more heartily than before. "You will always be the same,"--passing the slipper back to me. "No, I want to be just a little different from now on,"--inscrutably. She gave me an indescribable glance. "Give the slipper to me." "To keep?" "Yes, to keep. Somehow, I rather fancy I should like to try it on,"--demurely. So I gave her the slipper. TWO CANDIDATES AN ADVENTURE IN LOVE AND POLITICS I