d Milwaukee, Harley and all the correspondents went to
the same hotel with the Graysons, and they remarked jocularly to the
nominee that they would watch over him now night and day until the first
Tuesday in November, and he, being a man of tact and human sympathies,
without any affectations, was able to be a good fellow with them all,
merely a first among his equals.

There was a great crowd at the station, ready to welcome the candidate,
and the sound of shouting and joyous welcome arose; but Harley, anxious
to reach the hotel, slipped from the throng and sprang into a carriage,
one of a number evidently waiting for the Grayson party. It was a closed
vehicle, and he did not notice until he sat down that it was already
occupied, at least in part, by a lady. Then he sprang up, red-faced and
apologetic, but the lady laughed--a curious little laugh, ironic, but
not wholly unpleasant--and put out a detaining hand, detaining by way of
gesture, because she did not touch him.

"You are very much surprised to find me here, Mr. Harley," said Miss
Morgan. "You thought, of course, that I would be in the centre of that
crowd, receiving applause and shaking hands, just as if I were a
candidate, like my uncle James. You would not believe me if I told you
that I came here to escape it."

"Why shouldn't I believe it?"

"Because I am going to tell you that your displeasure over the picture
has made me feel so badly that I am resolved to do better, to be more
modest, more retiring."

"Miss Morgan, you do me wrong," said Harley, with reddening face. "I
have had no such thoughts."

"You fib in a good cause, but you cannot deceive me; I read your
thoughts, but I am very forgiving, and I am resolved that we shall have
a pleasant ride to the hotel together. Now, entertain me, tell me about
that war, of which you saw so much."

She was not in jest, and she compelled him to talk. It was far from the
station to the hotel, and she revealed a knowledge of the world's
affairs that Harley thought astonishing in one coming from the depths of
the Idaho mountains. She touched, too, upon the things that interested
him most, and drew him on until he was talking with a zest and interest
that permitted no self-consciousness. Resolved that he would not tell
what he had seen, and by nature reserved, he was, within five minutes,
under her deft questions, in the middle of a long narrative of events on
the other side of the world. He saw her listening,