Young George and I, who had stood in the shadow of the wistaria awaiting the doctor's departure, came forward now, and I made my awkward bow to the General's bandaged foot.
"Any relative of Jack Starr?" he enquired affably as he shook my hand.
I towered so conspicuously above him, while I stood there with my hat in my hand, that I was for a moment embarrassed by my mere physical advantages.
"No, sir, not that I ever heard of," I answered.
"Then you ought to be thankful," he returned peevishly, "for the first time I ever met the fellow he deliberately trod on my toe—deliberately, sir. And now they're wanting to nominate him for governor—but I say they shan't do it. I've no idea of allowing it. It's utterly out of the question."
"Uncle George, I've brought Ben to see your library," interrupted young George at my elbow.
"Library, eh? Are you going to be a lawyer?" demanded the General.
I shook my head.
"A preacher?" in a more reverent voice.
"No, sir, I'm in the Old Dominion Tobacco Works. You got me my first job."