Lillian had been listening with wide-open eyes. For a wonder she had held her tongue. But now she burst out.
“Goody! Goody!” she cried. “Oh! Mr. President, you’re just splendid. I can tell you so if these men can’t. I’m going to cast my first vote for you when we get women’s suffrage, even if it isn’t for fifty years!”
The President smiled. “Thank you!” he cried. “I’m sure you won’t forget.” “Now, gentlemen,” he turned back to the two men. “I’m not going to thank you for what you have done. You have done your duty, neither more nor less. For the same reason I’m not going to reward you. But I am going to tell you that I am delighted to know of two—no, three—people who are clever and as capable and as courageous as yourselves. And I’ll add that I am going to use you all to the extent of your abilities—not as a reward but simply because you are too capable not to be used. I guess we can find a post as minister somewhere for you, Mr. Rutile. Please consult with the Secretary of State about it. Now, Mr. Topham—”
But Miss Byrd interrupted. “Place aux dames, Mr. President,” she cried. “What do I get?”
“What do you want, Miss Byrd?”
“I want three months leave for Mr. Rutile. You see he wants to get married and he’s too bashful to tell you.”
The President’s eyes twinkled. “Oh! Ho! So that’s it, is it, Mr. Rutile?” he asked.
Rutile blushed. “Yes! That’s it, Mr. President,” he admitted.
“Journalism will lose an ornament, but diplomacy will gain one. Mr. Rutile shall have his vacation by all means, Miss Byrd.” “Now, Mr. Topham, I have some news for you. It—or rather she—is waiting in the next room. The Countess del Ouro Preto came to see me this morning. She had read the news about the fleet in the papers and knew the game was up. She came to confess, and to tell me a secret or two about herself. Ahem! You have my permission to go, Mr. Topham! Through the right door yonder. Yes! That’s it! Good-morning, Mr. Topham.”
THE END