With Brown’s approval and his own gifts and graces it was not remarkable that Hayward won his way to social popularity as fast as his confining duties would permit. He began to see much of Lily Porter and was consistent in his devotion to her despite the fact that the habit of his college days of being attracted by each new and pretty face still measurably clung to him. His information and accomplishments were of a sort superior to that of any of the young women he met, and none made a serious impression on his heart. Lily Porter was more nearly his equal in education and general cultivation of mind and manner, and was really the most attractive to him; but his harmless vanity could not forego the admiration of the others, and he gave some little time to small conquests. He did homage to Lily by his evident admiration of her talents and comeliness and by his unconcealed pleasure in her friendship. At the same time he met her petty tyrannies and autocratic demands with an unmoved indifference. He had become very well acquainted with Lily and had called on her several times before Henry Porter knew that his daughter was receiving the footman whom he had snubbed some months before. "Lily, who was that young man that called on you last night?" "Mr. Hayward." "Umhuh, I thought he was the same fellow. You’ll have to drop him. I don’t want you to be receivin’ no footman in this house. We must draw the line somewhere." "He’s no footman, papa. He’s one of Mr. Brown’s friends. Mr. Brown introduced him to me himself. I think he is connected with Mr. Brown’s office." "No such thing. Hayward’s footman at the White House—told me so hisself ’bout a year ago, and I saw him on the President’s carriage no longer’n yesterday. Nice lie he’s told you ’bout bein’ in Brown’s office." "Oh, he didn’t say so, papa. I supposed so because Mr. Brown said he was his friend and has introduced him to all the nice people. Surely you can’t object to one of Mr. Brown’s friends. Everybody likes Mr. Hayward and he is received everywhere." "Everybody likes him, do they? Well you see to it you don’t like him any too much. I can’t kick him out if Brown stands for him, but you make it your business to let him down easy. Have you seen Bob Shaw lately?" "He was here last night when Mr. Hayward came," answered Lily; and she seemed to be amused at something. "Well, what’s funny ’bout that?" Lily knew that she must not tell her father what she was laughing at. She created a diversion. "Mr. Shaw is so backward, and so—dark." "Dark! He’s jus’ a good hones’ black,—so’m I—all African and proud of it. Mebbe I’m too dark to suit yuh. Bob Shaw is not backward, miss. He’s got the bes’ law practice of all the niggers in the Distric’, and he’ll be leader of the whole crowd in a few years. He’s the bes’ one in the bunch of these fellers who tag after you and you better take him. My money and his brains and pull with the party ’d make a great combernation."