"Home," said Barbara for the reporter's benefit, and then, to Griswold: "I must speak of another matter. Drive with me a little way until we can throw the reporter off."
She spoke quietly, but he saw that she was preoccupied with some new phase of the situation, and as the carriage gained headway she said earnestly:
"That young man told the truth—I am sure of it—about Mr. Bosworth. I knew he would do something to injure father if he could, but I did not know he had the courage to go so far."
"It's only politics, Miss Osborne," said Griswold lightly. "Besides, you may be sure the Intelligencer will print the governor's side of it in its largest type."
"No; it is not politics. It is more despicable, more contemptible, more ungenerous even than politics. But he shall be punished, humiliated for his conduct."
"You shall fix his punishment yourself!" laughed Griswold; "but the state's business first. We have a little more to do before I am satisfied with the day's work."
"Yes, of course. We must leave nothing undone that father would do were he here to act for himself."
"We must be even more careful in his absence to safeguard his honor than the case really requires. We not only have his public responsibility but our own into the bargain in so far as we speak and act for him. And there's always the state—the Palmetto flag must be kept flying at the masthead." Their eyes met as they passed under an electric lamp and he saw how completely she was relying on his guidance.
They were now at the edge of town and she bade him stop the carriage.