ything, but it's to provide against the chance."--And turning to
Madeline Spencer: "Whatever the outcome, madame, you will leave
Washington tonight and sail from New York on the morrow; and I should
advise you to remain abroad so long as you are in the Diplomatic
Service."

And she--knowing very well that the search was necessary, and aware that
while there was nothing incriminating upon her yet from that moment,
until the ship that carried her passed out to sea, she would be under
close espionage--answered, pleasantly as though accepting a courtesy
tendered, and with a winning smile:

"I had arranged to sail tomorrow, Mr. Harleston so it will be just as
intended. Meanwhile, I'm at the service of your female assistant. She
will find nothing, I assure you."

"Give me the pleasure of conducting you to her," Harleston replied, and
swung open the door.

"If Mrs. Clephane will trust you with me," she inflected, flouting the
other with a meaning look; which look flitted across the room to the
Secretary and changed to one of interrogation as it met his eyes--calm
eyes and steady, and with never a trace of the interest that she knew
was behind them, yet dared not show--yet awhile.

And Mrs. Clephane answered her look by a shrug; and Harleston answered
that to the Secretary by a soft chuckle. As the door closed behind
them, he remarked:

"At a more propitious time."

To which she responded:

"Which time may never come." Then she held out her hand. "Good-bye,
Guy," she smiled.

"Good-bye, Madeline," said he; "and good luck another time--with other
opponents."

"And we'll call this--"

"A stale-mate! I didn't win everything, yet what I lost was of no
moment--"

"Do you think so?" she asked sharply.

"To my client, the United States," he added. "So far as I am concerned,
Madeline, we still are friends."

He put out his hand again; she hesitated just an instant; then, with one
of her rare, frank smiles, she laid her own hand in it.

"Guy," she whispered, "she wasn't as bad as she was painted; in fact,
she wasn't bad at all--and I know."

* * * * *

"Your Secretary of State is a peculiar man?" Mrs. Clephane observed, as
she and Harleston came down the steps into the Avenue.

Harleston leaned over. "I'll confide to you that he is an egotistical
and insufferable old ass," he whispered.

"And yet he thinks he is a perfect fascinator with the ladies!" she
laughed. "Even now he is