Silence. The girl sat very still. Her face was white and her eyes large. "I am honest. I can see now that I have no business in politics...." He laughed suddenly and turned toward the girl. "I was on the verge of wailing. I'm licked, and I must begin all over again. Dick will make a good mayor, that is, if they leave him alone.... Whimsical, wasn't it, of me, coming here to have you tell me the news." He looked away. The girl smiled and held out her hand to him, and as he did not see it, laid it gently on his sleeve. "It does not matter, John. Some day you will realize all your ambitions. You are not the kind of man who gives up. Defeat is a necessary step to greatness; and you will become great. I am glad that you came to me." She knew now; all her doubts were gone, all the confusing shadows. Carrington turned and touched her hand with his lips. "Why did you come to me?" she asked with fine courage. His eyes widened. "Why did I come to you? If I had won I should have told you. But I haven't won; I have lost." "Does that make the difference so great?" "It makes the difficulty greater." "Tell me!"--with a voice of command. They both rose suddenly, rather unconsciously, too. Their glances held, magnet and needle-wise. Across the street a bonfire blazed, and the ruddy light threw a mellow rose over their strained faces. "I love you," he said simply. "That is what drew me here, that is what has always drawn me here. But say nothing to me, Betty. God knows I am not strong enough to suffer two defeats in one night. God bless you and make you happy!" He turned and took a few steps toward the door. "If it were not defeat ... if it were victory?" she said, in a kind of whisper, her hands tense on the back of her chair. The senator came in about midnight. He found his daughter asleep in a chair before a half-dead fire. There was a tender smile on her lips. He touched her gently. "It is you, daddy?" Her glance traveled from his florid countenance to the clock. "Mercy! I have been dreaming these two hours." "What do you suppose Carrington did to-night?"--lighting a cigar. "What did he do?" "Came into the club and congratulated Williard publicly." "He did that?" cried the girl, her cheeks dyeing exquisitely. "Did it like a man, too." The senator dropped into a chair. "It was a great victory, my girl." Betty smiled. "Yes, it was." THE ENCHANTED HAT THE ADVENTURE OF MY LADY'S LETTER