"Not necessarily!" Enoch chuckled.
Frank called the hotel on the telephone and handed the instrument to
Enoch, who smiled as he gave the message.
"Mr. Charles Abbott, 8946 Blank Street, Washington, D. C. The boss can be reached now at El Tovar, Jonas."
"But won't Abbott wire you?" asked Frank.
"No, he'll wire Jonas. See if he doesn't," replied Enoch. "And now for the questions. Oh, Diana!" rising as Diana, in a brown silk house frock, came into the room. "How lovely you look! Doesn't she, Frank?"
"She looks like her mother," said Frank. "Only she'll never be quite as beautiful as Helen was."
"'Whose beauty launched a thousand ships'!" Enoch exclaimed, smiling at
Diana. "My boyish memoir of Mrs. Allen is that she was dark."
"She was darker than Diana, and not so tall. Just as high as my breast; a fine mind in a lovely body!" Frank sighed deeply and stared at the fire.
Enoch, lying back in the great arm-chair, watched Diana with thoughtful, wistful eyes, until Frank roused himself, saying abruptly, "And now once more for the questions. Enoch, what started you in politics?"
"Well," replied Enoch, "that's a large order, but I'll try to tell the story." He began the tale, but was so constantly interrupted by Frank's questions that luncheon was announced by Na-che, just as he finished.