"You make much out of nothing if you allow that blatherskite to disturb you," said the Governor, with mild reproof. "Pay no attention to him. Now to my business with you! I'd like to have you dine with me this evening. I have some serious matters to talk over with you alone--and the executive chamber, here, is no place for a quiet talk." Harlan hesitated a moment. "Have you another engagement?" "I was to dine with the Pressons." "I am sorry to ask you to do it, my boy, but if it is merely a social engagement, will you not beg to be excused? I assure you that my business is such that it cannot well wait another twenty-four hours. I am ready to leave the State House now. We'll ride past the Presson door, and I'll wait while you present your regrets. Tell the fair Madeleine that duty calls." He smiled. "I hear interesting reports, young man. Again I say I'm sorry to keep you from your engagement, but Miss Presson has been near enough to politics to understand what a duty-call means. Come!" The young man flushed. Reply failed him. He followed the Governor to his carriage. It was late afternoon, and the State House was emptying. As Harlan ran up the steps of the Presson house, Spinney's ugly threat came to him. The man dealt in gossip. It was an incredible form of attack. It was slander of the innocent. He could not forewarn Madeleine Presson. That would be caddish. But he felt a sudden panic. The impulse of admiration; covetous desire to win her away from Linton, a desire pricked by his increasing dislike of that young rival in love and politics; the charm she possessed for him who had met in her his first woman of intellect and culture--all drove him to her. The other love was a vague something that troubled him. Madeleine Presson was near and visible, and he did not dissect the emotion which prompted him to seek her. She came down to the reception-room. He had sent up an urgent request. "No," she said, with a smile, after she had listened, "I think I'll put your loyalty to the test! If I'm always to be the minority report in your estimation, Mr. Legislator, it's time now to find it out. You put Governor Waymouth and your politics first, do you?" "But you haven't given me the right to put you first," he returned, boldly. "Just how was I to go about giving you that right?" she inquired, with demure sarcasm. "Memorialize you, Mr. Representative, or throw it at you from the House gallery, concealed in a bouquet?" In spite of the waiting Governor outside he started toward her, his arms outstretched, his heart rushing to his lips. Her taunt--it seemed like that--made him desperate. "Madeleine, I tried to tell you--I know it seemed a strange place, but I couldn't wait--I want to tell you now--" She eluded him, and stopped him with a word. He was not impetuous enough to persist.