The anxiety seemed unnecessary, for Overton answered pleasantly: “What, Bob Lee? glad to see you here!” As he spoke he stepped out into the moonlight, and Vickers saw his long, thin, clever Yankee face. “Just going?” he went on, glancing at his guest, who as a matter of fact had no such intention. “I’ll walk a little way with you.” Vickers was surprised at the Great Man’s cordiality, but his surprise was short-lived. Indeed it lasted no further than the corner of the piazza. “I always think, Mr. Lee,” Overton began at once, “that if a disagreeable thing has to be said, the sooner the better. Now I hope you will come and see me again, come and see me as often as you feel like it; but I do not desire your friendship for my daughter.” In his day Vickers had knocked men down for less, but there was something so calm and friendly and reasonable in Overton’s manner that it never occurred to him to do more than ask quite mildly: “And why this difference, sir?” “Oh,” said Overton, “I allow myself a great many things I don’t permit Louisa--whiskey and cigars, and acquaintances with reformed characters. I assume that you have reformed, Mr. Lee, or else you would not have come to see us at all.” “There is something very frank about the way you assume that I needed to,” retorted Vickers. “I make it a point even in court,” said Overton, “not to dispute the obvious.” It struck Vickers that there was no use in resenting insults to a past with which he was so little connected that he was in complete ignorance of its dark places. Hoping to throw a little light upon the subject he began: “Perhaps you will tell which incident or incidents of my past you----” Overton cut him short with a smile. “No,” he said, “I won’t. In the first place I don’t mean to walk so far, and in the second it wouldn’t be pertinent. The point is that you are a reformed character. In my experience there is nothing so dangerous to the young. Their admiration for the superb spectacle of Satan trodden underfoot is too apt to include an admiration of Satan himself. In short, my dear sir, I don’t think you have any ground for quarreling with me because I think you a dangerous fellow for young girls.” “It is not exactly a compliment,” said Vickers. “Either of those young sparks who have just gone would have given ten years of his life for such an accusation.” Both men laughed at the incontestable truth of this assertion, but Vickers felt it necessary to say: “But I am a good deal older than they are.” “And a good many other things as well.” They had reached the impressive gate-post, and Overton stopped. “Suppose you come and dine with me to-morrow night,” and he added, in exactly the same tone, “Louisa is dining with a friend.” Vickers looked at him a moment and then exclaimed candidly: “Now I wonder why in thunder you asked me to dinner.”