"The devil take his distinguished consideration!" snapped Mr. Phillips. "I’ll accept his little resignation before he can wink, and give the papers a full statement of the circumstances just as they occurred. I’ll show the upstart what a small potato he is—damn his impudence! And then just to think, Mac, of the inexpressible insult in refusing to lunch with persons that I deem worthy to dine with my wife and daughters! It really makes it almost too damnably personal to be overlooked. He must understand that respectability, presentability, acceptability, in my home is a matter that is as sacred to me as such things are to him with all his Bourbon notions!—but thank God he may understand also that such acceptability is based on true merit, and that a man’s colour has absolutely nothing to do with it.... Come along with me to the library and we will accept this little resignation before it gets cold, and have it at his hotel before he gets cold!" *CHAPTER XIV* Mrs. Phillips, ill at ease during the luncheon, had taken the opportunity to retire offered by the departure of the negro guests, and had taken Helen with her; but that young lady, feeling the electric condition of the atmosphere and full of lively curiosity, had returned to hover around the dining-room door and learn what all the row was about. She heard her father’s outburst with great interest—being no little shocked at his sulphurous words, but no less deeply concerned at the suggestion of embarrassment to him politically, and forcibly and enthusiastically impressed with his fine scorn of subterfuge and manly decision to fight out his battles in the open. When President Phillips came in to dinner and asked for his daughters, their mother told him Helen was in her room and Elise had gone driving with Lola. "I did not like Elise’s conduct at lunch. It was too pointed, entirely too pointed. I shall talk to the young lady very plainly." "Now, Hayne, don’t worry the child with this affair. It is bad enough as it is. I hope—" "Bad enough as it is! Why, one would think you wished to resign also. Were you insulted, too?" "Not insulted, Hayne; but ever since you sent me to the pinelands of North Carolina that winter for Elise’s throat I have not been able to think of a negro as I did before—and Elise feels the same way, I know. It is so plain down there: the negroes are so many and so—different. I can’t receive them with any sort of pleasure. Just think of what the Southern papers will have to say. The awful things they said about your negro quartette were almost unbearable, and I know that was mild to what this will be. I do wish you had not brought them in to lunch, Hayne." "Why, May, you are surely not going over against me with those supercilious Southern fanatics?"