Miss Dangerfield had picked up a spool of red tape and was unwinding it slowly in her fingers and rewinding it. They were such nice little hands, and so peaceful in their aimless trifling with the tape that he was sure his eyes had betrayed him into imagining she had clenched them in the quiet drawing-room at the mansion. This office, now that its atmosphere enveloped him, was almost as domestic as the house in which she lived. The secretary had vanished, and a Sabbath quiet was on the place. The white inner shutters swung open, affording a charming prospect of the trees, the lawn and the monument in the park outside. And, pleasantest of all, and most soothing to his weary senses, she was tolerating him now; she had even expressed approval of something he had done, and he had never hoped for this. She had not even pressed him to disclose his real purpose in visiting Raleigh, and he prayed that she would not return to this subject, for he had utterly lost the conceit of his own lying gift. Miss Dangerfield threw down the spool of tape and bent toward him gravely. "Mr. Ardmore, can you keep a secret?" "Nobody ever tried me with one, but I think I can, Miss Dangerfield," he murmured humbly. "Then please stand up." And Ardmore rose, a little sheepishly, like a schoolboy who fears blame and praise alike. Miss Dangerfield lifted one of the adorable hands solemnly. "I, acting governor of North Carolina, hereby appoint you my private secretary, and may God have mercy on your soul. You may now sit down, Mr. Secretary." "But I thought there was a secretary already. And besides, I don't write a very good hand," Ardmore stammered. "I am just sending Mr. Bassford to Atlanta to find papa. He's already gone, or will be pretty soon." "But I thought your father would be home to-night." Miss Dangerfield looked out of the open window upon the park, then into the silent outer hall, to be sure she was not overheard. "Papa will not be at home to-night, or probably to-morrow night, or the night afterward. I'm not sure we'll wait next Christmas dinner for papa." "But of course you know where he is! It isn't possible--" and Ardmore stared in astonishment into Miss Dangerfield's tranquil blue eyes. "It _is_ possible. Papa is ducking his official responsibilities. That's what's the matter with papa! And I guess they're enough to drive any man into the woods. Just look at all this!" Miss Dangerfield rested one of those diminutive hands of hers on the pile of documents, letters and telegrams the secretary had left behind him; with a nod of the head she indicated the governor's desk in the inner room, and it, too, was piled high with documents. "I supposed," faltered Ardmore, "that in the absence of the governor the lieutenant-governor would act. I think I read that once."