The senator smiled covertly. Matthews was one of his henchmen in the larger matters of state. His name had been the first to appear on the slate, and the senator was determined that it should remain there. Not that he had any liking for the man; simply he was one of the wheels which made the machine run smoothly. The senator knew his power of persuasion; he knew Williard's easy-going nature; but he also knew that these easy-going persons are terribly stubborn at times. He was obliged to hold on to Matthews. The gubernatorial campaign was looming up for the ensuing year, and the senator was curious to learn the real power that went with the seal of a governor of a first-class state. There fell an intermission to the conversation. Williard smoked thoughtfully. He recalled the years during which he had accepted the generous hospitality of this house, and the love he held for the host's daughter. Only since his return from abroad had he learned the strength of his sentiment. Heretofore he had looked upon the girl as a sister, jolly, talented, a fine dancer, a daring rider, a good comrade. He had been out of the country for three years. On his return he had found Betty Gordon a beautiful woman, and he had silently surrendered. As yet he had said nothing, but he knew that she knew. Yet he always saw the shadow of Carrington, old Jack Carrington. Well, let the best man win! "I can find a way to dispose of Matthews," he said finally. "I dare say." But Williard did not know the tenacity with which some men cling to office. The senator did. Here the servant ushered in two lieutenants of the senator's. One was an ex-consul and the other was the surveyor of customs, who was not supposed to dabble in local politics. "Everything is agreeable to Mr. Williard," the senator answered in reply to the questioning looks of his subordinates. "He vows, however, that he will shake Matthews when he gets the chance." The new arrivals laughed. "We'll put you through, young man," said the ex-consul; "and one of these fine days we shall send you to France. That's the place for a man of your wit and wealth." Williard smiled and lighted a fresh cigar. He did possess the reputation of being a clever wit, and in his secret heart he would much prefer a consulate or a secretaryship at the French embassy. He thoroughly detested this indiscriminate hand-shaking which went with local politics. But Matthews stuck in his gorge, and he wondered if Carrington was going through any like ordeal, and if Carrington would submit so readily.... Why the deuce didn't Betty return? It was almost nine o'clock. Presently her sunny countenance appeared in the doorway, and Williard dropped his cigar joyfully and rose. It was worth all the politics in the world! "Gentlemen, you will excuse me," he said. "Go along!" the senator cried jovially. "We can spare you." As indeed they very well could! In a minute Williard was in the music-room.