“But I thought there was a secretary already. And besides, I don’t write a very good hand,” Ardmore stammered.
“I am just sending Mr. Bassford to Atlanta to find papa. He’s already gone, or will be pretty soon.”
“But I thought your father would be home to-night.”
Miss Dangerfield looked out of the open window upon the park, then into the silent outer hall, to be sure she was not overheard.
“Papa will not be at home to-night, or probably to-morrow night, or the night afterward. I’m not sure we’ll wait next Christmas dinner for papa.”
“But, of course, you know where he is! It isn’t possible——” and Ardmore stared in astonishment into Miss Dangerfield’s tranquil blue eyes.
“It is possible. Papa is ducking his official responsibilities. That’s what’s the matter with papa! And I guess they’re enough to drive any man into the woods. Just look at all this!”
Miss Dangerfield rested one of those diminutive hands of hers on the pile of documents, letters, and telegrams the secretary had left behind him; with a nod of the head she indicated the governor’s desk in the inner room, and it too was piled high with documents.
“I supposed,” faltered Ardmore, “that in the absence of the governor the lieutenant-governor would act. I think I read that once.”
“You must have read it wrong, Mr. Ardmore. In North Carolina, in the absence of the governor, I am governor! Don’t look so shocked; when I say I, I mean I—me! Do you understand what I said?”