“The common rabble—­the lower class—­the riff-raff,” explained Mr. Bagley.

“Pshaw!” laughed Jefferson.  “If our financiers were only half as respectable as the common rabble, as you call them, they would need no bars to their houses.”

Mr. Bagley sneered and shrugged his shoulders.

“Your father has warned me against your socialistic views.”  Then, with a lofty air, he added:  “For four years I was third groom of the bedchamber to the second son of England’s queen.  I know my responsibilities.”

“But you are not groom of the bedchamber here,” retorted Jefferson.

“Whatever I am,” said Mr. Bagley haughtily, “I am answerable to your father alone.”

“By the way, Bagley,” asked Jefferson, “when do you expect father to return?  I want to see him.”

“I’m afraid it’s quite impossible,” answered the secretary with studied insolence.  “He has three important people to see before dinner.  There’s the National Republican Committee and Sergeant Ellison of the Secret Service from Washington—­all here by appointment.  It’s quite impossible.”

“I didn’t ask you if it were possible.  I said I wanted to see him and I will see him,” answered Jefferson quietly but firmly, and in a tone and manner which did not admit of further opposition.  “I’ll go and leave word for him on his desk,” he added.

He started to enter the library when the secretary, who was visibly perturbed, attempted to bar his way.

“There’s some one in there,” he said in an undertone.  “Someone waiting for your father.”

“Is there?” replied Jefferson coolly.  “I’ll see who it is,” with which he brushed past Mr. Bagley and entered the library.

He had guessed aright.  A woman was there.  It was Kate Roberts.

“Hello, Kate! how are you?” They called each other by their first names, having been acquainted for years, and while theirs was an indifferent kind of friendship they had always been on good terms.  At one time Jefferson had even begun to think he might do what his father wished and marry the girl, but it was only after he had met and known Shirley Rossmore that he realized how different one woman can be from another.  Yet Kate had her good qualities.  She was frivolous and silly as are most girls with no brains and nothing else to do in life but dress and spend money, but she might yet be happy with some other fellow, and that was why it made him angry to see this girl with $100,000 in her own right playing into the hands of an unscrupulous adventurer.  He had evidently disturbed an interesting tete-a-tete.  He decided to say nothing, but mentally he resolved to spoil Mr. Bagley’s game and save Kate from her own folly.  On hearing his voice Kate turned and gave a little cry of genuine surprise.

“Why, is it you, Jeff?  I thought you were in Europe.”

“I returned yesterday,” he replied somewhat curtly.  He crossed over to his father’s desk where he sat down to scribble a few words, while Mr. Bagley, who had followed him in scowling, was making frantic dumb signs to Kate.