George looked at him as if “sit down” were a new and puzzling idea to him. Then he looked about at the furniture as if he had small and wanting confidence in it. However, as Clearwater sat, he ventured a nervous imitation and drew out his handkerchief. A great misfortune--no, a fresh calamity. The handkerchief had been bought with the collar. It did not squeak; worse, it rustled. The collar creaked, the handkerchief rustled, the new suit caught him under the arms. Said Clearwater: “My daughter--Eleanor--she has--has rather prepared me for your visit.” George feebly echoed Clearwater’s amiable laugh. “Senator Sayler, too--he has put in a good word for you. He is a great friend of yours--a great and generous admirer. He predicts a future for you--a dazzling future.” Helm began to murmur a reply, but the catch in his coat seemed somehow to have involved his vocal cords. He put the rustling handkerchief away, but in his pocket it still rustled like a mouse in a waste-paper basket. Helm’s murmurings died in a kind of stifled groan. “I am an old-fashioned American,” continued Clearwater, passing his hand over his short gray beard in a pompous gesture as if this confession reflected the highest credit upon his courage and upon America. “I believe in the love marriage. I am glad my daughter has chosen--and has been chosen by--a man of the people, a rising, ambitious man, with a career in the making.” “Thank you, sir,” said George. Clearwater extended a cigar, which George took--helped him light it--lit one himself. “A very mild smoke,” he explained. “I have Cisneros make it up for me in Havana from a specially selected leaf. If you’d prefer something stronger?” “No, thank you,” said George. “Lord Cuffingham--the British ambassador--asked me to let him have a box to send to the King. Personally I have no more respect for a king than I have for a plain American citizen. But we were talking about your wish to marry my daughter.” “Yes, sir,” said George, a trifle less embarrassed, now that the cigar relieved him of worry about his large, very brown and very powerful hands. “I shall confess to you, Governor, that if it had not been for the generous words Senator Sayler spoke in your behalf I should have hesitated about giving my consent.” George forgot his collar, the handkerchief, the coat--all his embarrassments. “Your speeches in the legislature last winter--such report of them as I got--and in your campaign--I must say in all candor, Governor, that while I appreciate the necessity of pleasing the people, of soothing them by seeming to agree with them--still I must say that you--in fact at times you seemed to go even further than--than their demagogues, in assaults upon property, and wealth and all that has built up the country.” Helm was leaning forward now, his elbows upon his knees, a fascinating look in his rugged face, in the kind yet somehow inflexible, blue-gray eyes.