Obadiah genially returned the salutation of Colonel Ryan. That officer, being a man of rank, in charge of the Soldiers' Home, with power of recommendation in government purchases, was one whose acquaintance it was wise for even wealthy mill owners to cultivate. When presented to Virginia, the Colonel bowed deeply. "I want you to come up to the house and meet Mrs. Ryan," he urged. "You can hear the music more comfortably there. I am proud of my band. They are old fellows like you and me, Dale, but give them a horn and they have lots of musical 'pep' left." Mrs. Ryan met them at the head of the porch steps. "You have often heard me speak of Mr. Dale," the Colonel, discreetly noncommittal as to his manner of speaking, reminded her. "Oh, yes, and I have heard of you, too." She smiled at Virginia and explained to Obadiah, "I happen to have a good friend in that splendid Mrs. Henderson, your neighbor." The mill owner received this information with little enthusiasm, but, learning that Mrs. Ryan was a victim of rheumatism, he advocated the use of a liniment prepared by his father and applied with remarkable results to both man and beast. Obadiah was hazy upon the mixture's ingredients but was clear upon its curative qualities. Mrs. Ryan evincing marked interest, the manufacturer entertained her with the intimate details of miraculous recoveries. Neither Virginia nor the Colonel being rheumatic, they failed to give Obadiah's discourse the rapt interest of a true brother in pain. Their attention wavered, wandered and failed, and the band played a crashing air; but the rheumatic heeded not. All hope of a general conversation having departed, the Colonel praised his band to Virginia. "Every man in that organization is over sixty years old," he bragged. "They get as much pleasure out of playing as their audience does from their concert. It's a great band." "They _do_ play well," the girl agreed. "I don't wonder that you are proud of them. I love a brass band, myself. You do, too, Colonel Ryan. I can tell by your face, when they play." The Colonel grinned boyishly. "Yes," he admitted, "I think a band is one of humanity's boons. I can't get close enough to one, when they are playing, to satisfy me. I have to have some sort of an excuse to do that, now-a-days--you'll do fine--let's go nearer." The medical lecture was disturbed, that the audience might nod understandingly to its husband, as they departed.