Millie was in the dining-room, and she turned to run when she saw me, but the old man hobbled into her way, so she came toward me with reddening face, and held out her hand. "I am glad to see you," she said. "Sit over here, please. That's Chyd's seat and he's so particular." The son came in, said that he was pleased to see me, sat down, opened a pamphlet that looked like a medical journal and began to read. "Mr. Hawes," said the General, "I understand that you have made arrangements to study law with Judge Conkwright. And a most fortunate arrangement, I should think. Smart old fellow, sir; smart, and a good man to have on your side, but a mighty bad man to have against you--half Yankee by parentage and whole Yankee by instinct. Millie, is that cat under the table?" "I think not, father," the girl answered, after looking to see if the cat were there; but this did not satisfy the old man. "You must know, not think," he said. "There should be no doubt about the matter, for I must tell you that if he touches my foot I'll kill him. A cat would travel ten miles and swim a river--and a cat hates water--to claw a gouty foot. Chyd, just put that book aside if you please." The young man folded the pamphlet and shoved it into his pocket. "I've struck a new germ theory," he said. "Yes," replied the General, "and you'll strike a good many more of them as you go on. I should think that you want facts, not theories." "But theories lead to facts," the young man rejoined. "The theory of to-day may become the scientific truth of to-morrow." "And it may also be the scientific error of the day after to-morrow," I remarked. He looked at me, spoke a word which I did not catch and then was silent, seeming to have forgotten what he had intended to say. I think that the word he uttered was "hah," or something to indicate that he had paid but slight heed to my remark. I did not repeat it, and the talk fell away from the germ theory.