"Charlie," she went on, determinedly, "I will always cherish our friendship, our happy younger days down in Mississippi, but, I must give up thinking of you as my future husband. We've both made a mistake, mine probably greater than yours, but I now am convinced that I should not marry you. Your way of thinking about life is all wrong, and you are too deeply entangled with the dishonest men in Washington to draw back. I cannot love you."
"But I am doing it all for your sake, Carolina. Don't let an old-fashioned father come between a man and a woman and their love," he cried.
"Charlie, I must give you up."
The girl turned to one side, as though to give Norton a chance to leave.
He looked at her in silence for a moment or two. Then a change came into his bearing. Wrinkling his face into a sneer, he stepped before the girl.
"You've been converted mighty sudden, I reckon, from land speculating to preaching—and preaching, too, against folks who tried to make a fortune for you."
Norton stopped, expecting a reply, but the girl remained silent.
"You think I'm done for, that I've lost my money; that's why you turned from me so quickly," he laughed, scornfully. "But I'll show you, you and your blundering old father. I'll win you yet, and I'll ruin your father's political reputation. I'll—"
"Are you quite sure about that?" spoke a voice, sharply, behind the Congressman. He swung around vigorously. Bud Haines had returned in time to hear Norton's threat.
"Yes; and while I'm doing that I'll take time to show you up, too, somehow. I guess a Congressman's word will count against that of a cheap secretary—that's what Miss Langdon said you were."