sat waiting for his host to explain himself was one of tension without
nervousness.

Leigh began as most men would have begun under the circumstances. He
fostered the subject of the weather for a few minutes longer, and
produced a box of cigars.

"I never smoke, or drink either, for that matter," Emmet remarked
simply. "A politician is like a barkeeper; he can do his business
better if he lets drink alone. As for cigars, try one of mine. They
're part of my stock in trade. I guess this one won't explode and set
fire to the place."

Leigh smiled as he lighted the cigar, which he found to be a good one.
There was something that made for freedom in the unintentional
officiousness with which his guest had thrust aside his hospitality and
substituted his own.

"Possibly," he ventured, "you might imagine that I have some plan in
mind to hand over to you the vote of the college."

"A deal like that would please the bishop," Emmet returned, with
unexpected irony.

"It would please his daughter, at any rate, as I believe you know."

"Yes," Emmet assented, with a nod. "I know what a good friend of mine
Miss Wycliffe is."

"We were talking last night," Leigh continued, "about political