But he overtook Diana in the elevator.  She wore the brown silk suit, and Enoch thought she looked a little flushed and a little more lovely than usual.

“I’m a marked person, Mr. Secretary,” she said, with a twinkle in her eyes.  “You’d scarcely believe how many total strangers have asked me to introduce them to you, since you walked up Pennsylvania Avenue with me.”

“I’m glad you have an appreciative mind,” returned Enoch.  “I hope that you are circumspect also, and won’t impose on me because of my condescension.”

“I’ll try not to,” Diana answered meekly, as Enoch followed her into the carriage.

They smiled at each other, and Enoch went on, “Of course, I’ve been feeling rather proud of the opportunity to display myself before Washington with you.  I’ve been called indifferent to women.  I’m hoping now that the gossips will say, ’Aha!  Huntingdon’s a deep one!  No wonder he’s been indifferent to the average woman!’”

Diana eyed him calmly.  “That doesn’t sound at all like Washington Monument,” she murmured.

“More like Charley Abbott, I suppose!” retorted Enoch.

“No,” answered Diana thoughtfully, “hardly like Mr. Abbott’s method.  I would say that he belonged to a different school from you.”

“Yes?  What school does Abbott represent?”

“Well, he has a dash, an ease, that shows long and varied experience.  Charley Abbott is a finished ladies’ man.  It almost discourages me when I contemplate the serried ranks of women that must have contributed to his perfect finesse.”

“Discourages you?” queried Enoch.

Diana did not answer.  “But,” she went on, “while Charley is a graduate of the school of experience and you—­”

She paused.

“Yes, and I—­,” pressed Enoch.

“I won’t impose on your condescension by telling you,” said Diana.

“Pshaw!” muttered the Secretary of the Interior.

Suddenly Diana laughed.  Enoch, after a moment, laughed with her, and they entered the White House grounds still chuckling.

The President did not keep them waiting.  “I may not be able to order my wife and daughter about,” he said, as he shook hands with Enoch, “but I certainly have my official family well under control.  Did you see the pictures, Huntingdon?”

“I saw and was conquered, Mr. President,” replied Enoch.

“What would you say, Miss Allen, if I tell you that I had to force this fellow into going to see your wonderful pictures?” the President asked.

“It wouldn’t surprise me,” replied Diana, in an enigmatical voice that made both men smile.

“I see you understand our Secretary of the Interior,” the President said complacently.  “Sit down, children, and Miss Allen, talk to me.  How long did it take you to make that collection of photographs?”

“I began that particular collection ten years ago.  Those pictures have been sifted out of nearly two thousand prints.”