"I should not bother you with anything except business. And as this is of a private nature, I must ask you to invite me to your room."

Harlan led the way to the elevator.

Linton did not remove his overcoat when they were closeted together. He stood with hat in his hand.

"It may surprise you to learn that my business concerns Miss Presson and the legislative ball to-morrow evening," began Linton, but Harlan indignantly broke in.

"You can have no possible business with me, sir, in which Miss Presson's name may be mentioned. Don't you use her name--not in any way.

Do you understand?"

"I understand this: I know what I'm talking about and exactly why I've come here, and you're going to listen. Miss Presson has accepted your escort to the ball to-morrow evening. Don't you know, Thornton, why you can't take Madeleine Presson into public, this whole State looking on? I hate to say any more than that. I don't think it's necessary for me to say any more than that!" His face was hard, his tone accusing.

"I tell you, you have no right to mention Miss Presson to me!" cried the other.

"I'm taking it on myself, and I'm giving you a chance by doing it,"

retorted Linton. "The story is bad enough now. But you'll be drummed out of this State if you insult an innocent girl in the way you plan to do."

In his indignation Thornton had been slow to grasp the fact that his rival was making hints that both affronted and threatened. His conscience accused him of nothing. He felt the crackle of paper in his breast-pocket. He promptly suspected that Linton had gleaned a hint of the proposed legislation which would involve Madeleine's father.

He tried to control his anger.

"Will you kindly explain to me by just what right you say this," he sneered--"except, possibly, that you're jealous because Miss Presson chose me as her escort."

"I have a right as a friend of her mother, if nothing else! I am keeping this thing as still as I can for your sake, for in this case protecting you means protecting her. I don't want to say any more! But sudden illness must prevent you from accompanying Miss Presson into public at that ball."

Harlan beat a palm upon his own breast.

"I've had enough of this, Linton. You tell me what you're driving at."

It was plain that Linton hated to be more explicit. This culprit did not seem to quail before vague accusation, as he had expected him to do. He was faced by a young man whose face was lighted by wrath, curiosity, and kindred emotions that were obviously not those of guilt.

"Let me say this in my own defence," pleaded Linton. "Spinney was going right to Mr. and Mrs. Presson with the story. I got it from him almost by accident. We were talking over our railroad bill this evening, and he mentioned your stand. Then he out with the story that he picked up when he was in Fort Canibas. I do not listen to gossip, Mr. Thornton, but it is plain that Spinney has facts. I have inquired in a prudent way of other men from your section. He has the story, but what they say confirms it."

Harlan listened, his blank amazement depriving him of speech.

"I've said enough now, haven't I?" asked Linton, significantly.

"No, by G.o.d, you haven't!" shouted the other, coming out of his lethargy of astonishment. The recollection of Spinney's sinister hints came to him. "What do you mean?"

"I mean that a man who will fool and throw over a girl in a way that drives her away from home and friends is no fit escort--"

He got no further. He knew a thoroughly maddened and dangerous man when he saw one. He stepped back when Harlan dashed at him, and Thornton halted of his own accord. After a time he calmed himself enough to speak.

"I'll not begin with you, Linton. I'll begin with the man who started that d.a.m.nable lie. Oh, that--that--!" He flailed his arms about his head, unable to express himself. "You've been lied to. You don't know any better than to say that. If you hadn't been jealous you'd never have brought the story to me. I'll make allowances," he raved on; "but the man who started that story will swallow it with teeth and blood mixed."

He stamped about the room. It was so horrible that he could not grasp the enormity of the lie all at once.

Linton was impressed but not routed. He waited till Harlan was quieter.

"I hope you'll get it straightened out," he said, coldly. "But with a story like that extant, of course you'll see the wisdom of the course I've suggested. You cannot afford to drag Miss Presson's name into your affair."

"Into my affair! You dirty pup, do you dare to intimate--are you lunatic enough to take stock in any such story about me?"

The epithets sent the color into Linton's face. But he restrained himself.

"Your own grandfather had to take you in hand about the matter before you left Fort Canibas, Thornton. I heard him say that much myself. He gave no details. I don't care for any. I merely came to you to bring a hint as to what you ought to do. You don't seem to take the hint. If you haven't got manliness enough yourself to keep away from Miss Presson until this story--well, put it mildly, and say until this story is run down--then I propose to insist that you do so."

"Look here, Linton, I've usually got pretty good control of myself. I'm trying to hold myself in now--trying as hard as I can. What you have told me is a lie--a d.a.m.nable lie. See? I say it calmly." He was quivering. "You don't know what you're talking about. I haven't the patience to explain to you. It's none of your business. You keep away from me. Now don't put any more strain on my self-control--in G.o.d's name, don't do it, Linton!"

"I am making no secret of my hopes in regard to Miss Presson," stated Linton, firmly. "I have been waiting until I could offer her what she has been accustomed to. You have the advantage of me in money, Thornton.

But you're welcome to that! My hopes give me the right to guard her from scandal. I insist that you relieve her of your presence to-morrow evening!"

Harlan, shaken, gray with pa.s.sion, his teeth set over his lower lip, rushed to the door and threw it open.

"D--n you, you get on the outside!" he panted. "I'm in the mood to kill you!"

Linton went. By his visit and his warning he had thrown a sop to his conscience. He had approached Harlan Thornton with something like desperation. Under his calmness he had long-hidden, consuming pa.s.sion for Madeleine Presson--a love that had grown through the years, and now waited a fitting time of expression and the endors.e.m.e.nt of a.s.sured position. If he had any doubts of the truth of the shameful story he had brought he concealed those doubts--he would not admit them to himself.

He proposed to win the girl. He chose any weapons that would rout the interloper.

"I warn you that I shall protect her," he said, from the corridor.

"Take a warning from me, too: you get into my affairs, and you'll find h.e.l.l fires cooler!"

"Your affairs do seem to have that flavor," declared Linton, walking away.

Thornton hurried to the headquarters that the corporations maintained in the hotel for Spinney. Spinney was not there. He ran back to his room and telephoned to the clerk of the hotel. He was informed that Mr.

Spinney had gone away for a few days.

It was late, but he threw on his coat and hastened up street to the Presson home. The windows were dark. He did not have the a.s.surance to arouse the family at that time of night.

By that time, walking in the crisp air of the winter night, he had soothed, somewhat, his fever of anger, sorrow, and shame.

Calmer, he had thoughts only for the bitter wrong that had been done Clare Kavanagh. Somehow it seemed that all were leagued against her--and him! Memory of her unselfishness, her simple faith in him, her abnegation, her true, little-woman trust in his career--it all rushed upon him. For a time he was almost ashamed to face what memory brought to him. Then manfully he set himself to read his heart--at least, he tried to. In the end, hidden in his room, he wept--honest tears of a strong man conscious that he was unable by his strength to hold disaster from an innocent. Even his attempt to find the rogue, Spinney, was futile. He wept, thinking of Clare Kavanagh--exiled from her home, bravely solving her problem of life alone. He went to sleep thinking of Clare Kavanagh.

It was fortunate for his self-respect that she filled his mind so completely at that moment. Otherwise the reflection that he had led himself by degrees to covet the brains and beauty of Madeleine Presson would have convinced him that in his relations with women he was either fool or knave.

Youth, untried in the ways of women and the wiles of loving and the everlasting problem of what the heart most truly desires, has wondered and wept the long ages through!

CHAPTER XXV

WOMEN, AND ONE WOMAN

The next day brought the reign of woman. That festal day in mid-session which preceded the legislative ball had been made woman's field-day by long custom. The politicians arranged the programme in order to bunch events: for the women demanded that they be heard each session on the suffrage question; and the women pleaded for one opportunity to show their best gowns in parade for fashion's sake. So the politicians made one bite at the cherry; "took a double dose and had it over with," as Thelismer Thornton ungraciously expressed it. Frivolity was combined with feminine fervor on the suffrage question. One element was invited to neutralize the other. The politicians could endure the combination better than they could face each faction separately. The advocates of suffrage made their plea while their sisters promenaded the State House corridors to the music of the band. The festival spirit dominated.

The members of the Judiciary Committee wore fresh waistcoats, pinks in their b.u.t.tonholes, and a genial air--and had not the least idea of granting the suffragists anything except a benignant hearing. The report of "ought not to pa.s.s" was a foregone conclusion.