Hayward had the same sensation as when in the Venezuelan campaign he had first keyed his nerves for battle at sound of the picket’s shots only to have the danger pass. Then the releasing tension had been painful. Here it was grateful. He drew a breath of relief. He was very glad the girl had not read of _Ruy Blas_,—of the lackey who loved a queen. "The place of footman was the only position open to me. I applied for another but failed to get it." He ignored the question and through this lie outright, told in words of perfect truth, he made a precipitate retreat. "The service was to be short, and it gave me an opportunity to see at close range something of the man upon whom my hopes so much depend," he added as an afterthought. "And a closer view has not dampened your hope?" asked Helen. "No, Miss Helen. Increased it, rather. Your father puts heart into a man. His broad sympathies and firm principles of justice inspire one to the highest and best that is in him. The lofty example of his courage and purity and effectiveness, personal and civic, is a living inspiration to the nation." "For which the nation is indebted to your heroism," added Helen. "For myself and all the people I thank you." If Hayward had been white he would have blushed. The personal turn Helen gave the matter left him with nothing to say. He sat his horse abashed. A stray thought of her dignity flitted across Helen’s mind. She drew herself up, touched her horse with the crop, and rode on. Hayward, at the command of her manner, stiffened into _attention_ as she drew away, and followed—at the proper distance. *CHAPTER XXIII* Helen inherited Bobby Scott when the real men came around. Elise had brought Lola DeVale, Dorothy Scott and Caroline Whitney with her for a two-weeks stay at Hill-Top and they had planned for a breathing-spell in which they hoped to be rid of men and have a restful girlish good time. Bobby Scott, Dorothy’s brother, had been asked to come because he was present when the thing was first proposed, and had accepted—much to Caroline’s disappointment. But really he did not disturb their plans very much. Bobby was somewhat young, and entirely manageable: and, as said before, Helen inherited him when the real men came along. And they came: Hazard, the moment Congress adjourned; Tom Radwine, every minute he was not asleep after he knew Caroline Whitney was there; Captain Howard, after three days’ wait at Newport; and, for a day and a half, no less a personage than Senator Richland. The Senator had a heart to heart talk with President Phillips about a certain matter of politics, but he deceived no one, not even himself.