President."
"I hope not, old man. By the way, what did you think of Miss Allen
yesterday?"
"I thought her a very interesting young woman," replied Enoch.
"My heavens, man!" exclaimed the chief executive. "What do you want!
Why, Diana Allen is as rare as--as a great poem. Look here,
Huntingdon, you make a mistake to cut all women out of your life. It's
not normal."
"Perhaps not," agreed Enoch briefly. "I would be very glad," he added,
as if fearing that he had been too abrupt, "I would be very glad to see
more of Miss Allen."
"You ought to make a great effort to do," said the President. "Keep me
informed on this Mexican matter, please, and take care of yourself, my
boy. Good-by, Mr. Secretary. Think seriously of a speaking tour,
won't you?"
"I will," replied Enoch obediently, as he left the room.
The remainder of the day was crowded to the utmost. It was not until
midnight that Enoch achieved a free moment. This was when in the
privacy of his own room Jonas had bidden him a final good night. Enoch
did not open his journal. Instead he scrawled a letter.
"Dear Miss Allen: After deliberating on the matter a somewhat shorter
time, I'll admit, than you suggested, but still having deliberated on
it, I have decided that friendship is an art that needs attention and
study.
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