She ran to meet her father at the door. There was the sound of a hearty kiss, a little whispering, and the General stepped briskly into the parlour where she had left her guest. “Pleased to welcome you to our home, young man. They say down town that you made the greatest speech ever heard in Independence. Sorry I missed it. We ’ll have you to dinner anyway. I knew your brave father in the army. And now I come, to think of it, I saw you once when you were a boy. I was struck with your resemblance to your father then, as now. You showed me the way down to Tom Camp’s house. Don’t you remember?” “Certainly General, but I didn’t flatter myself that you would recall it.” “I never forget a face. I hope you have been enjoying yourself?” “More than I can express, sir.” “I ’ll join you bye and bye,” said the General, taking leave. “Now isn’t he a dear old Papa?” she said demurely. “He certainly knows how to make a timid young man feel at home.” “Are you timid?” “Hadn’t you noticed it?” “Well, hardly.” She shook her head and closed her eyes in the most tantalising way. “To see the cool insolence of conscious power with which you looked that great crowd in the face when you arose on that platform, I shouldn’t say I was struck with your timidity.” “I was really trembling from head to foot.” “I wonder how you would look if really cool!” “Honestly, Miss Sallie, I never speak to any crowd without the intensest nervous excitement. I may put on a brave front, but it’s all on the surface.” “I can’t believe it,” she said shaking her head. She looked at his serious face a moment and was silent. “It’s queer how we run out of something to say, isn’t it?” she asked at length. “I hadn’t thought of it.” “Come up to the observatory and I’ll show you Lord Cornwallis’ look-out when he had his headquarters here during the Revolution.” She lifted her soft white skirts and led the way up the winding mahogany stairs into the observatory from which the surrounding country could be seen for miles. “Here Lord Cornwallis waited in vain for Colonel Ferguson to join him with his regiment from King’s Mountain.” “Where my great-grandfather was drawing around him his cordon of death with his fierce mountain men!” interrupted Gaston. “Was your great-grandfather in that battle?” “Yes, it was fought on his land, and his two-story log house with the rifle holes cut in the chimney jambs still stands.” “Then we will shake hands again,” she cried with enthusiasm, “for we are both children of the Revolution!” Gaston took her beautiful hand in his and held it lingeringly. Never in all his life had the mere touch of a human hand thrilled him with such strange power, How long he held it he could not tell but it was with a sort of hurt surprise he felt her gently withdraw it at last. They had reached the parlour again, and he slowly fell into an easy chair. “Do you dance, Miss Sallie?” “Why yes, don’t you dance?” “Never tried in my life.”