Winthrop flushed at his tone. “I had curiosity enough to step back and see that it was Senator Carew’s landau, the last of a long queue of vehicles, at which she had stopped; then I went on about my business.”
“Do you mean to say that you did not investigate further?” asked the Secretary, leaning forward the better to scan Winthrop’s face.
“No. I knew enough never to interfere with Senator Carew’s love affairs!” His sneer was intolerable.
“By God!” Colonel Thornton sprang to his feet and advanced on Winthrop, but Brett stepped between the two men.
“Have a little patience, Colonel,” he said, pushing the irate man toward his seat; “then you can settle with Mr. Winthrop.”
“Do you think I’m going to sit here and listen to aspersions on my niece’s character?” he shouted. “Let me get my hands on that scoundrel!”
“Wait, Uncle Dana,”—Eleanor leaned forward and placed her hand on his arm,—“let him finish; then I will speak,” and her lips closed ominously.
“That is excellent advice,” agreed the Secretary; “resume your seat, Colonel Thornton.” His tone of command was not to be denied, and Thornton dropped back in his chair. “Now, Mr. Winthrop, explain your last remark.”
“Senator Carew told me on Monday afternoon that he expected to marry Miss Thornton, and that he intended to spend the evening with her.”
Douglas leaned forward and gazed earnestly at Eleanor, but she refused to meet his look, and with a troubled expression he turned his attention to Winthrop, who was again speaking.