feeling unusually well satisfied with the world and
himself. His failure to bring the Hornblower affair to a successful
conclusion had annoyed him, not so much because of the importance of
the transaction, as because his professional pride was hurt at finding
himself unequal to the task of convincing a henpecked old man. From
the tone of Mrs. Hornblower's letter he was confident this failure was
about to be retrieved, and that Persis would prove amenable to his
flattering advances, could be taken for granted. On one point he must
be firm. From the beginning he must assume the necessity of her
renouncing her recently acquired family. He could say and with truth
that children made him nervous. But to postpone the settlement of the
difficulty until after the wedding would be a fatal blunder. When
women felt sure of a man, they sometimes developed a disagreeable
tenacity in holding to their own way. Altogether on this early morning
drive, Justin's difficulties dwindled almost to imperceptible points
while his blessings loomed large, a state of mind we are assured, most
favorable to success.

Mr. Hornblower came from the barn as he drove up and greeted him with
successfully disguised cordiality. But a glance convinced Justin that
the long siege was nearly at an end. In the pouches under the man's
weary eyes, in a certain sagging of his lower lip, in an indefinable
air of being beaten, Justin read the signs of approaching capitulation.

"Mis' Hornblower is in the house. I guess you'd better see her this
morning. I'm pretty busy for visiting."

"I won't keep you long, Mr. Hornblower. I just want to lay a
proposition before you that's sure to interest as good a business man
as you are." Justin waited while the farmer tied the horse, and then,
slipping his hand through the old man's arm, guided him dexterously
around the house. Robert Hornblower yielded like one hypnotized, an
expression of rigid horror on his face as if while seeing some peril
immediately ahead, he found himself unable to avoid it.

Mrs. Hornblower sat in a rocking-chair by the window, tapping the floor
with her heel as the chair swayed, and nervously smoothing imaginary
wrinkles from an immaculate apron. Justin took a step toward her, then
stopped with an awkward jerk. Early as he was, another caller was
ahead of him. In the opposite corner, grim and unsmiling as fate, sat
Persis Dale.

Justin realized his own embarrassment with angry wo