Diana hesitated.

“And in entire ignorance of the race itself,” added Enoch quietly.  “I know!  But I had to choose between a rattling good administrator and a rattling good ethnologist.”

Diana nodded slowly.  “Your choice was inevitable, I suppose.  And Mr. Watkins seems very efficient.”

“Well, and where does your princely salary permit you to live?” Enoch concluded.

“On New Jersey Avenue, in a brown stone front with pansies in front and cats in the rear, an old Confederate soldier in the basement and rats in the attic.  As for odors and furniture, any kind whatever, provided one is not too particular.”

“My word! how you are going to miss the Canyon!” exclaimed Enoch.

Diana nodded.  “Yes, but after all one’s avocation is the most important thing in life."’

“Is it?” asked Enoch.  “I’ve tried to make myself believe that, but so far I’ve failed.”

“You mean,” Diana spoke quickly, “that I ought to have stayed with my father?”

“No, I don’t!” returned Enoch, quite as quickly.  “At least, I mean that I know nothing whatever about that.  I would say as a general principle, though, that parents who have adequate means, are selfish to hang on the necks of their grown children.”

“Father misses mother so,” murmured Diana, with apparent irrelevance.

Enoch said nothing.  They were opposite the Post Office now and Diana paused.  “I must go to the Post Office!  Good-by, Mr. Secretary.”

“Good-by, Miss Allen,” said Enoch, taking off his hat and holding out his hand.  “Let me know if there is anything further I can do for you!”

“Oh, I’m quite all right and shall not bother you again, thank you,” replied Diana cheerfully.

Enoch was very warm when he reached his office.  Jonas and the bottle of milk were awaiting him.  “How come you to be so hot, boss?” demanded Jonas.

“I walked back.  It was very foolish,” replied Enoch meekly.

“I don’t dare to let you out o’ my sight,” said Jonas severely.

“I think I do need watching,” sighed Enoch, beginning his belated luncheon.

That night the Secretary wrote to Diana’s father.

“My dear Frank:  Diana came and I found a job for her in the Indian office.  I feel like a dog to have broken my word with you, but her work is very interesting and very important, and I feel that she ought to have her few months of study in Washington.  She is very beautiful, Frank, and very fine.  You must try to forgive me.  Faithfully yours,

“Enoch Huntingdon.”

CHAPTER V

A PHOTOGRAPHER OF INDIANS

“When I tutored boys I wondered most at their selfishness and their generosity.  They had so much of both!  And I believe that as men they lose none of either.”—­Enoch’s Diary.