t
good-naturedly, "on the roadside, and Dick Wood's the nearest house! And
once within a man's doors, every attention, of course, must be shown.
But, as you say, he is a dangerous fellow."

"Dangerous fiddlesticks!" growled Major Churchill from the other side of
the table, where he sat at Jacqueline's right hand. "I would have as
soon called old Gideon Rand dangerous! Like father, like son. You may be
sure that this fellow's spirit rolls tobacco. Maybe now and then it
breaks a colt.

"Dangerous' implies power to be dangerous," said Cary, "and conversely
power to be humane. A turn, and all the strength of the man may flow
toward good."

"A fool and his doctrine!" snapped Major Edward. "I do not expect grapes
from thistles, or a silk purse from a sow's ear."

"Tut, tut, Ned! The man who carries this county may be a damned
Republican, but he is not a fool," pronounced Colonel Dick. "Jacqueline,
my dear, another cup of coffee."

"If we were all as good as gold," said Unity pensively, "and as wise
as--as Socrates, and wore black cockades, and cared only for the
Washington March, and hated Buonaparte, and the Devil, how tiresome life
would be!--Myself, I like variety and the Marseillaise!"

"Then you differ from the other rogues only in liking the Rogue's
March," said Uncle Edward. "Jacqueline, more sugar!"

The younger Cary rushed to Miss Dandridge's defence. "Well, sir, in
itself the Marseillaise is a very noble air. It is better than
Jefferson's March!"

"Oh, a very good air to go to the gallows by!" snapped Uncle Edward.
"Jacqueline, some cream!"

"Well, well," said his brother amicably, from the head of the table, "we
must care for a man when he's wounded at our door, friend or foe,
Federalist or damned Republican. Noblesse oblige. I was glad enough the
night my mare Nelly threw me, coming home from Maria Erskine's wedding,
to hear Bob Carter's voice behind me! And if Gideon Rand was a surly old
heathen, he broke colts well, and he rolled tobacco well. We'll treat
his son like a Christian."

"And he'll repay you like a Turk!" broke out Major Edward. "I tell you
it is bred in the bone--"

"Mr. Rand is our guest," said Jacqueline, in a clear voice, from her
place behind the coffee urn. Her hands made a little noise amid the
rosebud china. "Mr. Cary, may I not pour you another cup?--Caleb, Mr.
Cary's cup.--Bring more waffles, Scipio."

"The work at Greenwood is nearly finished, sir," remarked Ludwell Cary,