Robert enjoyed himself hugely. He realized anew how close was the blood relationship among all those important families, and he was already familiar with their names. The powerful sponsorship of Mr. Hardy had caused them to take him in as one of their number, and for that reason he liked them all the more. He was worldly wise enough already to know that we are more apt to call a social circle snobbish when we do not belong to it. Now, he was a welcome visitor at the best houses in New York, and all was rose to him. Adrian Van Zoon, who had not only wealth but strong connections, was there, but, as on recent occasions he took no notice of Robert, until late in the evening when the guests were dancing the latest Paris and London dances in the great drawing-room. Robert was resting for a little space and as he leaned against the wall the merchant drew near him and addressed him with much courtesy. "I fear, Mr. Lennox," he said, "that I have spoken to you rather brusquely, for which I offer many apologies. It was due, perhaps, to the commercial rivalries of myself and Mr. Hardy, in whose house you are staying. It was but natural for me to associate you with him." "I wish to be linked with him," said Robert, coldly. "I have a great liking and respect for Mr. Hardy." Mynheer Van Zoon laughed and seemed not at all offended. "The answer of a lad, and a proper one for a lad," he said. "'Tis well to be loyal to one's friends, and I must admit, too, that Mr. Hardy is a man of many high qualities, a fact that a rivalry in business extending over many years, has proved to me. He and I cannot become friends, but I do respect him." He had imparted some warmth to his tone, and his manner bore the appearance of geniality. Robert, so susceptible to courtesy in others, began to find him less repellent. He rejoined in the same polite manner, and Mynheer Van Zoon talked to him a little while as a busy man of middle age would speak to a youth. He asked him of his experiences at Quebec, of which he had heard some rumor, and Robert, out of the fullness of his mind, spoke freely on that subject. "Is it true," asked Mynheer Van Zoon, "that David Willet in a duel with swords slew a famous bravo?" "It's quite true," replied Robert. "I was there, and saw it with my own eyes. Pierre Boucher was the man's name, and never was a death more deserved." "Willet is a marvel with the sword." "You knew him in his youth, Mynheer Van Zoon?" "I did not say that. It is possible that I was thinking of some one who had talked to me about him. But, whatever thought may have been in my mind, David Willet and I are not likely to tread the same path. I repeat, Master Lennox, that although my manner may have seemed to you somewhat brusque in the past, I wish you well. Do you remain much longer in New York?" "Only a few days, I think." "And you still find much of interest to see?"