Caleb glanced furtively at his broad, shining boots, then, disdaining the allusion as past his discernment, answered: “It’s my own game and I play it as I plan to. In one year from now you’ll see folks askin’ me to the same houses where _you’ve_ been invited ever since your great grandfather held down the job of ‘First Land-owner’ here, in the Revolution. See if I don’t.” “Did you ever chance to read Longfellow’s poem about the Rabbi--Ben Levi--who ‘took the Kingdom of Heaven by violence?’” queried Caine. “I don’t read rhymes. Life’s too short. What happened to him?” “He didn’t have a particularly pleasant time of it, as I remember. In fact, I believe the angels joined in a symphonic clamor for his expulsion. Not unlike the very worthy governors of the Arareek Country Club.” “H’m!” sniffed Conover in high contempt. “If the Rabbi person had took the trouble of postin’ himself on those angels’ pasts, he might a’ got front-row seat in the choir instead of bein’ throwed out.” “So _that’s_ the line you’re going to take with the governors? I’m glad I decided to be there. It ought to prove amusing. But you don’t seem to realize that even if you win, you won’t be exactly beloved by them, in future.” “I’m not expectin’ a loving cup with a round-robin of their names on it. Not just at first, anyhow. So don’t waste any worry on me. The Club’s only the first step, anyhow. The real fun’s liable to come when I take another.” “_Festina lente!_” counseled Caine, “People have a way of forgetting a man is _nouveau riche_ as long as he remembers it. But they remember it as soon as he forgets it. Is it discreet to ask what Miss Shevlin thinks of all this? Is she in sympathy with your social antics--I mean ‘ambitions?’” “I don’t know. I never asked her. I never thought to. But if I did, she’d stand for it. You see, not bein’ as old and as wise as some of the Granite folks, she’s fallen into the habit of thinkin’ I’m just about all right. It’s kind of nice to have someone feel that way about you.” “You seem to return the compliment. I don’t blame you. It isn’t every man who finds himself guardian to an exquisite bit of animated Sevres china. I’m lying back to watch for the time when some scared youth comes to ask your leave to marry her.” “What’s that?” snarled Conover, stopping and glowering up at the tall, clean-cut figure at his side. “Don’t get excited,” laughed Caine. “You can’t expect as lovely and lovable a girl as Desirée Shevlin to live and die an old maid. If you’re so opposed to this imaginary suitor I’ve conjured up, why not marry her yourself?” “Marry? That kid? _Me?_” sputtered Conover, “Why I’m past thirty an’--an’ she ain’t twenty yet. Besides I’m a daddy to her. If I hear of you or anyone else queerin’ that kid’s fondness for me by any such fool talk, I’ll--”