CAROLINA LANGDON'S ADVICE
"Let me speak to Mr. Haines alone," said Carolina to Norton and her
brother.
Norton turned a triumphant grin at Randolph as he beckoned him out and
whispered: "Leave him to her. It's all right. That New York dude has
been riding for a fall--he's going to get it now."
"I am sorry, so sorry this should have occurred, Mr. Haines," Carolina
said gently.
The secretary looked up slowly, his face drawn. It was an effort for
him to speak.
"I can't understand it," he said. "I mightn't have thought so much of
this a month ago, but I have come to love the Senator almost as a son,
and to think that he could be like the rest of that bunch is awful."
"You are too much of an idealist, Mr. Haines," said the girl.
"And you? What do you think of it?" he demanded.
The girl's glance wavered.
"Don't idealize me too much, either, Mr. Haines. I didn't think it was
much. Perhaps I don't understand business any too well."
"But you see now?" insisted the man.
The girl looked up at him sorrowfully.
"Yes; I see at least that you and father can never work together now."
Haines nodded affirmatively.
"I suppose so. I'm thinking of that. How am I to leave him? We've been
so close. I've been so fond of him. I don't know how I could tell
him."
In girlish, friendly fashion Carolina rested her hand on his arm.
"Won't you take my advice, Mr. Haines? Go away without seeing him.
Just leave a note to say you have gone. He will understand. It will be
easier for both that way--easier for him, easier for you." She paused,
looking at him appealingly as she ended very softly, "And easier for
me, Mr. Haines."
He looked at her thoughtfully.
"Easier for you?" he said. "Very well, I'll do it that way."
The secretary stepped slowly to his desk, sat down and started to
write the note. Carolina watched him curiously.
"What will you do," she asked, "now that you have given up this
position?"
"Oh, I can always go back to newspaper work," he answered without
looking up.
The term "newspaper work" gave Carolina a shock. She had forgotten
that this man had been a reporter. Here he was turned loose with the
knowledge of this "deal," which she knew would be popular material for
newspapers to print. She must gain still another point, and she felt
that she had enough power to win against him.
"I'm going to ask you still another favor," she said.
Bud returned her look with a bitter smile.
"What is it?"
"You have learned about this--this land matter and--"
"Oh, yes! I can guess. You want me to keep quiet about it--to hush it
up," a shade of scorn in his tone.
"I only asked this so that you would not disgrace me," she pleaded.
Disillusioned at last, robbed of his lifelong optimism, shorn of
his ideals, even his love--for he began to despise this beautiful,
misguided woman--Haines sat broken in spirit, thinking how quickly the
brightness of life fades to blackness.
"Very well," he said sadly. "I suppose _you_ are innocent. I'll save
you. If they're all--your father, too--crooked, why shouldn't I be
crooked? All right; I won't say anything."
"I only ask you not to disgrace me," pleaded the girl. "You will
promise that?"
"It's a promise."
She sighed in relief.
"Father will be coming back soon," she said. "You won't want to see
him."
Haines arose.
"No, I won't want to see him. Give him this note. I'll have to come
back while he's away to clear up some things. Good-by."
Haines bowed and hurried from the room through a side doorway just as
Senator Langdon came in through the main entrance.
"Bud! Bud!" he called, but the secretary did not halt.
Carolina Langdon stood with Haines' note in her hand, wondering at
what she had done. She regretted having become entangled in the wars
of men in Washington. She saw that the man's game was played too
strongly, too furiously fast, for most women to enter, yet she
rejoiced that the coveted fortune had not been lost. She was sorry
that her means of saving it had not been less questionable. She saw
that ambition and honesty, ambition and truth, with difficulty follow
the same path.
Senator Langdon's face was unusually grave as he came to greet
Carolina. Lines showed in his face that the daughter had never noticed
before.
She saw Norton and Randolph, who had followed him, exchange
significant glances--jubilant glances--and wondered what new
development they had maneuvered.
"He's gone without a word," the Senator sighed. "Well, perhap's that's
best."
"He left a note for you," said the girl, handing him the letter which
Haines had given her.
Langdon opened it and read:
"I am giving up the job. You can understand why. The least said about
it between us the better. I am sorry. That's all. BUD HAINES."
Slowly he read the letter a second time.
"And he was making the best kind of a secretary, I thought."
Divining that something against Haines had been told her father,
Carolina glanced at Norton.
"I told your father how we caught Mr. Haines," he spoke as an answer
to her.
The girl was startled. She had not thought that things would go this
far.
"I told him how Haines wanted to get in some land speculation scheme
with Altacoola, how we tricked him and caught him with the goods when
he made the proposition to me and how we forced him to confess."
"You told father that?" gasped Carolina.
Norton nodded.
"I don't understand it," said Langdon. "To think that he was that
kind!"
Son Randolph now took his turn in the case against the secretary.
"We were both here, father. I heard him--Carolina heard him," he said.
"Didn't you, Carolina?"
"Yes," said the girl weakly, "I was here." Then she turned abruptly.
"I must go," she said, "must go right away. Mrs. Holcomb is waiting
for me."
The Senator turned to his desk bent and discouraged.
"I suppose I should have taken a secretary who was a Southerner and a
gentleman. Well, Randolph, you'll have to act now. Take this letter--"
The young man sat down and took the following from the Senator's
diction:
"MR. HAINES--
"Sir: I quite understand your feelings and the impossibility of
your continuing in my employ. The least said about it the better.
I am sorry, too.
"WILLIAM H. LANGDON."
"You boys run away. I've got to think," said the Senator.
When the pair had gone the old man drew the letter to him, and below
his signature he added a postscript: "Don't forget there's some money
coming to you."
Walking across the room to leave, he sighed:
"He was making the best kind of a secretary."