“I couldn’t let you go, Mr. Haines, without telling you good-by and letting you know that, no matter what the others say, I don’t think there has been anything wrong.”

Before Haines could reply, the young girl rushed on, excitedly: 

“That’s why I came.  I know father and Carolina won’t like it—­they won’t think it’s nice—­but I wanted to say to you that I don’t think one ought to believe things against one you’ve liked and trusted.”

“You think one ought not,” said Haines.  “So do I; but in this case the proofs were very strong.  What are you going to do when people you can’t doubt pledge their word?”

The girl tossed her head.

“Well, the only one’s word I’d like to take would be the person accused.  I know I’m only a girl, Mr. Haines, and I’m not grown up, but you’ve made a mistake.  Do try to clear things up.  Why don’t you see father and talk with him?  Please do, Mr. Haines.”

Little realizing that the girl was speaking in his own favor, for he knew not the need for such speaking, he believed her to be defending her father.  He grasped her hands impulsively.

“You have grown up very much since you came to the capital, haven’t you?” he said.  “And you are right, Miss Hope.  I ought to have known even when the facts were against him that your father couldn’t have been really crooked.  He can’t be.”

Hope Langdon’s face flushed indignantly.

“Father crooked?  Who said so?  Who dared say that?” she exclaimed.

“Why, they told me he had sold out on the Altacoola bill.  They said he was trying to make money on Altacoola.  That’s why I quit.”

The flame of anger still was spread on the girl’s face.

“They said that!” she exclaimed.  “Then they lied.  They said you were the crooked one.  Why, father thinks you sold out on Altacoola.  They said you were trying to make money on that navy yard.”

“What!  They said I was crooked!” Haines fairly shouted.  He rushed around the desk and caught the girl by both hands.

“I see it!” he cried.  “I see it!  There’s something I’m not just on to.  You thought it was I; your father thinks—­”

“Of course,” exclaimed Hope, quite as excited as he.  “I couldn’t believe it.  That’s why I came back to get you to explain.  I wanted you to disprove the charge.”

“I should say I would,” cried the secretary.

“I knew it!  I knew it!  They couldn’t make me believe anything against you.  I knew you were all I thought you.  Oh, Mr. Haines, prove you are that for my—­”

Then Hope Georgia abruptly stopped.  She had lost her head, and in the enthusiasm of the moment had revealed her real feelings—­something she would never do presumably when she grew more wise in the ways of women.

She suddenly thrust Haines’ hands from her own and stood staring at him, wondering—­wondering if he had guessed.

Strangely enough, under the circumstances, the girl was the first to recover and break the awkward silence.