to sup
at his house with other distinguished visitors, and I have accepted."

"But didn't he wish you to remain with him?"

"But this second I had the honor to inform you that I am here distinctly
by his invitation."

"_His_?"

"Precisely, his. Judge Briscoe, Miss Sherwood will not believe that you
desire my presence. If I intrude, pray let me--" He made as if to spring
from the buckboard, and the girl seized his arm impatiently.

"You are a pitiful nonsense-monger!" she cried; and for some reason
this speech made him turn his glasses upon her gravely. Her lashes fell
before his gaze, and at that he took her hand and kissed it quickly.

"No, no," she faltered. "You must not think it. It isn't--you see,
I--there is nothing!"

"You shall not dull the edge of my hilarity," he answered, "especially
since so much may be forgiven it."

"Why did you leave Mr. Harkless?" she asked, without raising her eyes.

"My dear girl," he replied, "because, for some inexplicable reason, my
lady cousin has not nominated me for Congress, but instead has chosen to
bestow that distinction upon another, and, I may say, an unworthier and
unfitter man than I. And, oddly enough, the non-discriminating multitude
were not cheering for me; the artillery was not in action to celebrate
me; the band was not playing to do me honor; therefore why should I ride
in the midst of a procession that knows me not? Why should I enthrone me
in an open barouche--a little faded and possibly not quite secure as to
its springs, but still a barouche--with four white horses to draw it,
and draped with silken flags, both barouche and steeds? Since these
things were not for me, I flew to your side to dissemble my spleen under
the licensed prattle of a cousin."

"Then who _is_ with him?"

"The population of this portion of our State, I take it."

"Oh, it's all right," said the judge, leaning back to speak to Helen.
"Keating and Smith and your father are to ride in the carriage with him.
You needn't be afraid of any of them letting him know that H. Fisbee is
a lady. Everybody understands about that; of course they know it's to be
left to you to break it to him how well a girl has run his paper." The
old gentleman chuckled, and looked out of the corner of his eye at his
daughter, whose expression was inscrutable.

"I!" cried Helen. "_I_ tell him! No one must tell him. He need never
know it."

Briscoe reached back and patted her cheek. "How long do you suppo