Rutledge’s vacillation of mind concerning Elise was evidenced by his presence in Cleveland. It comported very well with his former status as a freelance correspondent that in search of "copy" he should have followed the President out to Ohio, but he confessed to himself that it was somewhat below the dignity of his present position and standing as an editorial writer that he should have asked for the assignment as news representative allotted to his paper on the Presidential special. He called himself a fool, and—thought of many situations that might happen to evolve themselves on the train.... They didn’t evolve. Only one paltry three minutes’ talk with Elise did he win for all his journeying. He had stood by her carriage that afternoon as she waited for Lola DeVale in front of Vantine’s, and they had talked in the unaffected manner of the first days of their acquaintance until Lola came out and invited him to join them on an evening at the end of the week at an informal gathering of young people at her home in Washington. He had accepted with what he afterward thought was childish and compromising eagerness. "I like that Mr. Rutledge so much. I invited him for you, Elise," Lola said as they drove homeward. "Why for me?" asked Elise. "Perhaps I should say because of you. Can’t you see the reason in his eyes every time he looks at you? I can." "You are mistaken there, my dear. I happen to know that Mr. Rutledge loves, or once loved, a young woman who has greatly disappointed him." "How?" "He has learned that her family—and perhaps she—is impossible." "How did you know of his love for the girl?" "He told me himself," Elise answered with a nonchalant air that proved her an actress of the finest art. "He did! You were playing with fire, Elise. The sympathetic ’other girl’ is always in a dangerous role. Did he tell you of his disappointment also?" "Oh, no. But that was—and is—evident." "But the girl? Was she really—nice—better than her people?" "Yes. No—yes—that is, nice. Of course you know Mr. Rutledge would not love a woman who was not—nice." "Oh, certainly; but if he was really disappointed in her, all the more reason he might find a solace in your smiles." "It was her family rather than herself, I think. He is uncertain about her—is afraid to love her." "He does seem to have an uncertain look at times that has puzzled me. I think you are responsible for some of his uncertainty, however; or perhaps the other girl makes him uncertain about you. If it were not for her you would have to look to your defences.... He must have loved her very much or he could not stand the temptation you are to him.... I’m glad you’ve solved the riddle, but very sorry you told me. I have liked Mr. Rutledge; but I despise any man who would not brush aside all obstacles to marry the woman he loves and who loves him. Don’t you?"