"My husband and I realised you thought I was Mademoiselle Poulain," said
Nancy, and she also spoke with a touch of awkwardness.

Senator Burton put out his right hand and laid it, rather heavily, on his
daughter's shoulder.

She stopped and turned round. "Yes, father?"

"Then I suppose you also saw Mr. Dampier, Daisy?"

Eagerly he hoped for confirmation of the charming stranger's story. But--

"No," she said reluctantly. "We only saw Mrs. Dampier and the Poulains,
father--they were all in the room together. You see, we were outside on the
dark staircase, and just stopped for a minute on the landing to say
good-night to the Poulains, and to tell them that we had come in."

"I suppose, Mrs. Dampier, that by then your husband had already gone to his
room?" But in spite of his efforts to make his voice cordial the Senator
failed to do so.

"No, he hadn't gone upstairs then." Nancy waited a moment, puzzled, then
she exclaimed, "I remember now! Jack had just stepped up into a big
cupboard which forms one side of the little room. He came out again just as
Miss Burton and--and your son had gone on upstairs." Again she reddened
uncomfortably, wondering if this nice, kind girl had heard Jack's
unflattering epithets concerning "the young American cub." But no, Jack's
voice, if angry, had been low.

When they were at the bottom of the staircase the Senator turned to his