"Hold on, now; it wasn't a fight. Nothing of the sort. I know what I promised you, and I'll keep my word. Yes, I handed my hat to a friend and stepped down to where the fellow stood, with his back against the wall. I asked him--I was polite--if he meant to insinuate that I was a liar. There was no violation of a promise in that, was there, Florence?" "No, Sir, not if you asked him politely," she answered, laughing. "It was polite, I assure you. Well, he studied a moment, and then declared that he never did insinuate, that he came right out and said what he meant. And, Belford, I rather admired him for that. But, er--the fact is--" "You struck him," Mrs. Estell interjected. "Didn't you?" "Well, that depends upon the way you look at it. Now, here, Florence, you wouldn't want to know that a man had stood up in front of a whole houseful of people and called your father a liar. I mean that under such circumstances you wouldn't blame me for--for tapping him." "Of course not," she replied. "Ah, ha, and I did tap him. Belford, I hit that fellow a crack that he'll remember the longest day he lives. Fell? Why, Sir, he fell like a beef; and when they had taken him away, the meeting was kind enough to name me as its unanimous choice." The negro woman who had announced her suspicion of all men came out upon the veranda to ring the supper bell, and, astonished to realize that the sun was no longer shining, I bounced up with a declaration that I must get back to town. "No, Sir, not till you have had supper," the Senator replied. "Why, what can you be thinking about to run away at a time like this? Come on," he added, taking my arm and turning me toward the house. "I want to have a talk with you after supper--on business. Come, Florence." CHAPTER XII. A MATTER OF BUSINESS.