For a year now Helen had had an unconsciously growing regard for her footman’s mental abilities and for his gift of entertaining her with his tales of battle and camp and other incidental themes of conversation which at odd times had beguiled the moments of the past summer after his identity had been revealed to her as "the trooper of the 10th" of her father’s most thrilling battle story. It was but natural that conversation with a man of his cultivation of mind and wide information should dull the sense of caste and superiority and enhance a feeling of genuine respect. It was only occasionally now that she assumed an air of command:—at best it is a difficult thing to patronize intellect. Helen did not have an opportunity to hear Hayward’s proffered explanation for quite a long time, and she cared little to know anything further of it; but her attitude of mind toward him had changed. Formerly she sometimes had wondered that a footman should be so intelligent. Finding that he was a Harvard man, however, had reversed the problem. It raised him to a level of respectability above his calling, and left the fact that he was a serving-man to be accounted for as anomalous. That he was a negro counted with her, of course, for naught one way or the other. He was nothing less than a footman. However, with all her democratic ideas, she was a President’s daughter; and that he was a footman, until it was explained, and even after it was explained,—as long, in fact, as he remained a footman,—would cause that vacillation between anger and amusement which came to her yet with the remembrance of his embarrassed declaration that her pennant was his heart’s dearest possession.... She was somewhat annoyed by her own mild self-consciousness—an unusual mental state for her; more so than by any forwardness on the man’s part in speaking the speech,—for there had been nothing of that.... She would not think of it.... Why should she think of it? The idea was ridiculous. She would laugh it away.... Of course the pennant was a dear possession: the man prized it as a memento of his college life and his daringly won victory.... Certainly, it was a very dear possession: she had similar school-day souvenirs which were precious to her heart though recalling moments of less energy of loyalty and wild delirium of joy.... Besides he may have meant, he could have meant, nothing personal to herself,—for he could not have known her—she was nothing more than a child seeing her first great football match—and he had caught but a glimpse of her in all that yelling throng—if he had seen her at all.... It would be a miracle if he remembered her... And yet he seemed to remember.... Though why should she think so? He had _said_ nothing to indicate it.... But he knew—she was sure that he knew.... And what if he did know, and did value the pennant on that account? The personal consideration was not imperative. Was she not