“Nov. 1.—­Congress again, eh, Lucy?  And you care for Washington as little as I!  Dear, this has been a hard day.  I’ve been saying good-by to the force!  By the eternal, but they are men!  And now all that wonderful machine, built up, really, by the men themselves, must fall apart!  What a waste of human energy!  Yet, I’ve come to the conclusion that the man who devotes himself to public service loses much of his usefulness if he allows himself to grow pessimistic about human nature.  If there were not more good than bad in the world, we’d still be monkeys!  I have ceased to search for some great single ideal for which I can fight.  Whatever abilities I have in me I shall devote to helping to administer government cleanly.  After all, we gave New York a great object lesson in the possibilities of cleaning out Tammany’s pest house.  Perhaps somebody’s great-grandchild, inspired by the history of my attempt will try again and be successful for a longer period.  And oh, woman!  It was a gorgeous fight!

“Jonas is delighted that we are returning to Washington.  He says we are to keep house.  I am a great responsibility to Jonas.  He is very firm with me, but I think he’s as fond of me as I am of him.

“Lucy, how am I to go on, year after year like this, with only my dream of you?  How am I to do my work like a man, with only half a man’s life to live?  What can all the admiring plaudits mean to me when I know that you are only a dream, only a dream?”

Enoch sat forward in his chair, laid the book on the desk, opened to the last entry and seized his pen.

“So your name is not Lucy, but Diana!  Oh, my dearest, and you did not recognize me at all, while my very heart was paralyzed with emotion!  You must have been a very lovely little girl that the memory of you should have been so impressed on my subconsciousness.  Oh, how beautiful you are!  How beautiful!  And to think that I must never let you know what you are to me.  Never!  Never!  The strain stops with me.”

He dropped his pen abruptly and, turning off the light, flung himself down on his bed.  Jonas, listening long at the door, waited for the full, even breathing that would mark the end of his day’s work.  But it did not come, and dawn struggling through the hall window found Jonas sitting on the floor beside the half-opened door, his black head drooping on his breast, but his eyes open.

Enoch reached his office on the stroke of nine, as usual.  His face was a little haggard and set but he came in briskly and spoke cheerfully to Charley Abbott.

“A little hotter than ever, eh, Abbott?  I think you’re looking dragged, my boy.  When are you going to take your vacation?”

“In the fall, after you have had yours, Mr. Secretary.”  The two men grinned at each other.

“Did the Indian Commissioner find work for Miss Allen?” asked Enoch abruptly.

“Oh, yes!  And she was as surprised and pleased as a child.”