The vigils of the night had fortified their faith, the loyalty of youth was in them, and they were the disciples of one who had enlisted their enthusiasm. Linton, however, was less assertive than Harlan. The Duke did not lose his patience. "Boys," he said, at the end of his exhortations, "I see that you've got to have your little lesson (I'll have to be going now, for I've a few things to attend to), and I'll tell you frankly I propose to make that lesson a lasting one." A few hours later the young men went in to breakfast together. The early trains had brought other delegates and visitors. The great room was crowded with a chattering throng. The head waiter intercepted them; he seemed to be waiting for them. They followed obediently, and he led them to an alcove. Here a breakfast-party was already installed. Miss Presson was first to greet them, giving a hand to each--radiant, fresh, and altogether charming in her tailored perfection. "We left word at the door," she smiled, "for I wanted to behold you before the blood and dust of the arena settled over all." Mrs. Presson and her ladies were cordial. They did not seem to remark that the State chairman kept his seat and was brusque in his greeting. Political abstraction excused general disregard to conventions among the men-folks that morning. The Duke was there. He patronized them with a particularly amiable smile. "May I?" asked Linton, touching the chair next Madeleine. "Yes," said the girl. "You know, Herbert and I are very old friends, Mr. Thornton." There was a hint of apology to Harlan behind the brilliant smile she gave him. He had moved toward the chair. He flushed when he realized that he felt a queer sense of hurt at her choice. It was another new experience for him who had made the woods his mistress--a woman had chosen another, slighting him. As he took his seat beside his grandfather he was angry at himself--at the sudden boyish pique he felt. He had not been conscious till then that he had been interested especially in Madeleine Presson. It needed the presence of this other young man, selected over his head, to make him understand that one may not draw near beauty with impunity, even though one may be very certain--telling his own heart--that love is undreamed of. He wondered whether he might not be afflicted with asinine pride. He did not relish the glance that Linton bestowed on him; it seemed there was just a flash of triumph in it--that bit of a boast one sees in the eyes of a man who becomes, even briefly, the proprietor of a pretty woman. "We were just talking over the latest news--or, rather, it's a rumor," said Miss Presson. With quick intuition she felt that something, somehow, was not just right. She hastened to break the silence. "They are saying that Mr. Spinney has withdrawn, and that his name will not go before the convention. Of course, you've heard about it, Herbert--and Mr. Thornton!"