out of the way. But I've a notion I may
be able to do something for Seaton in Washington when I get back--in
the meantime I'll leave a letter for you to give him--"

"You will not write of me in that letter!" interrupted the girl,
hastily. "No--you must not--you could not!---"

Gwent raised a deprecating hand.

"Don't be afraid, my girl! I'm not a cad. I wouldn't give you away for
the world! I've no right to say a word about you, and I shall not. My
letter will be a merely business one--you shall read it if you like---"

"Oh no!"--she said at once, with proud frankness; "I would not doubt
your word!"

Gwent gave her a comprehensively admiring glance. Even in the dusk of
evening her beauty shone with the brilliance of a white flower among
the dark foliage. "What a sensation she would make in New York!" he
thought--"With those glorious eyes and that hair!"

And a vague regret for his lost youth moved him; he was a very wealthy
man, and had he been in his prime he would have tried a matrimonial
chance with this unspoilt beautiful creature,--it would have pleased
him to robe her in queenly garments and to set the finest diamonds in
her dark tresses, so that she should be the wonder and envy of all
beholders. He answered her last remark with a kindly little nod and
smile.

"Good! You needn't doubt it ever!"--he said--"If at any time you want a
friend you can bet on Sam Gwent. I'm a member of Congress and you can
always find me easily. But remember my advice--don't make a 'god' of
any man;--he can't live up to it---"

As he spoke a sudden jagged flash of lightning tore the sky, followed
almost instantaneously by a long, low snarl of thunder rolling through
the valley. Great drops of rain began to fall.

"Come along! Let us get in!" and Gwent caught Manella's hand--"Run!"

And like children they ran together through the garden into the Plaza
lounge, reaching it just before a second lightning flash and peal of
thunder renewed double emphasis.

"Storm!" observed a long-faced invalid man in a rocking-chair, looking
at them as they hurried in.

"Yes! Storm it is!" responded Gwent, releasing the hand of his
companion--"Good-night, Miss Soriso!"

She inclined her head graceful, smiling.

"Good-night, Senor!"

CHAPTER XIV

Convention is still occasionally studied even in these unconventional
days, and Morgana Royal, independent and wealthy young woman as she
was, had subscribed to its rule and ordinance b