His official family included several bright, companionable men of about his own age, somewhere in the thirties, and very often he had one of the heads of departments to dine with him and spend the evening afterward.
This happened to be an evening when he was disinclined for society, and he was quite alone when he sank into a well-cushioned rocker, with a novel in his hand.
Jabez Portersham had lived in a Middle State, and had been prominent in the affairs of his own city. Also, he had had experience in the government service in Washington. Natural ability, plus some influence, had put him where he was.
He had hardly got well into the first page of his book, when there was a discreet tap at the door, followed by the entrance of a soft-footed butler, who had a card on a salver.
The acting governor took up the card, with a slight frown at being interrupted at this hour of privacy, but with the knowledge that Briggs would not have come unless he had felt sure that he had a sound excuse.
“Senator Micah Garnford” was the name on the card.
Portersham threw his book on the table at his elbow and sat up in his chair, as he told the butler, in a sharp, businesslike tone, to “Show the senator in.”
Senator Garnford was an influential man. Portersham had met him only once, and then but for a minute or two, in company with many other people, at a reception at the senator’s house in Washington, but he knew that he was largely indebted to Garnford for his present appointment.
It must be urgent business of some sort that had induced the senator to come to the palace at this hour.
The acting governor had not known that he was even in Porto Rico. The last he had heard of Senator Garnford, he was taking an active part in the deliberations of the distinguished body of which he was a member in the Capitol at Washington.