The expression on the old gentleman's face answered him. He knew that at
a word he should lose his agent, and he had use for him. He had plans
that were far-reaching, and the General could be of great service
to him.

When the statesmen arrived, everything on the place was in order; they
were duly met at the station, and were welcomed at the house by the
owner. Everything for their entertainment was prepared. Even the fresh
mint was in the tankard on the old sideboard. Only the one who had made
these preparations was absent.

Just before the vehicles were to return from the railway, General Keith
walked into the room where Mr. Wickersham was lounging. He was booted
and spurred for riding.

"Everything is in order for your guests, sir. Richard will see that they
are looked after. These are the keys. Richard knows them all, and is
entirely reliable. I will ask you to excuse me till--for a day or two."

Mr. Wickersham had been revolving in his mind what he should say to the
old gentleman. He had about decided to speak very plainly to him on the
folly of such narrowness. Something, however, in the General's air again
deterred him: a thinning of the nostril; an unwonted firmness of the
mouth. A sudden increase in the resemblance to the man-in-armor over the
mantel struck him--a mingled pride and gravity. It removed him a hundred
years from the present.

The keen-eyed capitalist liked the General, and in a way honored him
greatly. His old-fashioned ideas entertained him. So what he said was