“Now do you want to let it go further?” inquired the lobbyist.  He felt that the proximity of others protected him.

“I’ll meet you alone—­I’ll hunt you out, and I’ll mash that face of yours into pulp!” choked the young man, and hurried away before he lost control of himself.  The most he could make out of the episode was that Spinney was seeking cheap revenge by offering insult to his face under circumstances that prevented him from retaliating.  He did not understand the reference to Clare Kavanagh.  His friendship for the girl was no secret in the north country.  That Spinney had made so much account of it by his insinuations was the astonishing feature, in Harlan’s estimation.

Fortunately for his peace of mind at that moment, he was not allowed to dwell upon the matter.  The Governor’s messenger came seeking him.  He followed the man into the presence of his Excellency.

Harlan had not recovered his self-possession, and the Governor surveyed him with some interest.

“Cares of State, young man?” he asked.  “And the session still as calm as a millpond?”

“That cur of a Spinney has just insulted me—­no politics, sir, but just plain, personal insult.  Why, he went out of his way to do it!”

“You make much out of nothing if you allow that blatherskite to disturb you,” said the Governor, with mild reproof.  “Pay no attention to him.  Now to my business with you!  I’d like to have you dine with me this evening.  I have some serious matters to talk over with you alone—­and the executive chamber, here, is no place for a quiet talk.”

Harlan hesitated a moment.

“Have you another engagement?”

“I was to dine with the Pressons.”

“I am sorry to ask you to do it, my boy, but if it is merely a social engagement, will you not beg to be excused?  I assure you that my business is such that it cannot well wait another twenty-four hours.  I am ready to leave the State House now.  We’ll ride past the Presson door, and I’ll wait while you present your regrets.  Tell the fair Madeleine that duty calls.”  He smiled.  “I hear interesting reports, young man.  Again I say I’m sorry to keep you from your engagement, but Miss Presson has been near enough to politics to understand what a duty-call means.  Come!”

The young man flushed.  Reply failed him.  He followed the Governor to his carriage.  It was late afternoon, and the State House was emptying.

As Harlan ran up the steps of the Presson house, Spinney’s ugly threat came to him.  The man dealt in gossip.  It was an incredible form of attack.  It was slander of the innocent.  He could not forewarn Madeleine Presson.  That would be caddish.

But he felt a sudden panic.  The impulse of admiration; covetous desire to win her away from Linton, a desire pricked by his increasing dislike of that young rival in love and politics; the charm she possessed for him who had met in her his first woman of intellect and culture—­all drove him to her.  The other love was a vague something that troubled him.  Madeleine Presson was near and visible, and he did not dissect the emotion which prompted him to seek her.