“A hundred dollars a month for your expenses,” said the President, making a memorandum in his notebook, “and what is your time worth?”

“My time?  You mean what would I charge somebody for doing this work?  Why, Mr. President, this is not a job!  It’s an avocation!  I wouldn’t take money for it.  It’s a labor of love.”

The chief executive suddenly rose and Diana, rising too, was surprised at the look that suddenly burned in the hawk-like eyes.

“You are an unusual woman, Miss Allen!  Your angle on life is one seldom found in Washington.”  He took a restless turn up and down the room, glanced at Enoch, who stood beside the desk, utterly absorbed in contemplation of Diana’s protesting eyes, then said, “This friend of mine is a disappointed man.  He had believed that in amassing a great fortune he would find satisfaction.  He has found that money of itself is dust and ashes and it is too late for him to take up a new work.  Miss Allen, I too am a disappointed man.  I had believed that the President of a great nation was a full man, a contented man.  I find myself an automaton, whirled about by the selfish desires of a politically stupid and indifferent constituency.  One of the few consolations I find in my high office is that once in a while I come upon some one who is contributing something permanent to this nation’s real advancement, and I am able to help that person.  Miss Allen, will you not share your great good fortune with my friend and me?”

“Gladly!” exclaimed Diana quickly.  Then she added, with a little laugh, “I think I understand now, why you are President of the United States!”

Enoch and the President joined in the laugh, and Diana was still smiling when they descended the steps to the waiting carriage.  But the smile faded with a sudden thought.

“The President mustn’t think I will take more than expense money!” she exclaimed.

Enoch laughed again as he replied, “I don’t think that need bother you, Miss Allen.  I imagine a yearly sum will be placed at your disposal.  You will use what you wish.”

Diana shook her head uneasily.  “I don’t more than half like the idea.  But the President made it very difficult to refuse.”

Enoch nodded.  The carriage stopped before the Willard Hotel.  “Miss Allen, will you lunch with me?” he asked.

Diana hesitated.  “I’ll be late getting back to the office,” she said.

“I’ll ask Watkins not to dock you,” said Enoch soberly.

“Docking my salary,” touching Enoch’s proffered hand lightly as she sprang to the curb, “would be almost like taking something from nothing.  I’ve never lunched in the Willard, Mr. Secretary.”

“The Johnstown lunch still holds sway, I suppose!” said Enoch, following Diana down the stairs to Peacock Row.