Before the cooling beverage had been surmounted by its delicate mouthpiece the street gate opened and the colonel walked briskly in.
"Ah, Major! You here? Jes the vehy man we wanted, suh! Fitz and the English agent are comin' to dinner. You have heard the news, of co'se? No? Not about the great syndicate absorbin' the Garden Spots? My dear suh, she's floated! The C. & W. A. L. R. R. is afloat, suh! Proudly ridin' the waves of prosperity, suh. Wafted on by the breeze of success."
"What, bought the bonds?" I said, jumping up. "Well, not exactly bought them outright, for these gigantic operations are not conducted in that way; but next to it, suh. To-day,"—and he brought his hand down softly on my shoulder,—"to-day, suh, they have cabled their agent—the same gentleman, suh, you saw in my office some time ago—to make a searchin' investigation into the mineral and agricultural resources of that section of my State, with a view to extendin' its railroad system. I quote, suh, the exact words: 'extendin' its railroad system.' Think, my dear Major, of the effect that a colossal financial concern like the great British syndicate would produce upon Fairfax County, backed as it is, suh, by untold millions of stagnant capital absolutely rottin' in English banks! The road is built!" And the colonel in his excitement opened his waistcoat, and began pacing the yard, fanning himself vigorously with his hat.
Chad substituted a palm-leaf fan from the hall table, and, producing a small tray, picked up the frosted tumbler and mounted the three steps to relieve the thirsty guest on the floor above.
As he reached the last step a hand stretched out, and a voice said:—
"Jes what I wanted."
"Dis julep, Jedge, is Major Yancey's."
"All the better." And nodding to the colonel and bowing gravely to me, the Hon. I. B. Kerfoot settled himself on the top of the front steps with very much the same air with which he would have occupied his own judicial bench.
With the exception that this julep was just begun and tile other just ended, his Honor presented precisely the same outward appearance as when I discovered him asleep on the sofa.
His was, in fact, the extremest limit of dishabille permissible even on the hottest of summer afternoons in the most retired of back yards,—no coat, no vest, no shoes. In one hand he held a crumpled collar and a high, black silk stock; with the other he grasped the julep. His hair was tousled, his face shriveled up and pinched by his heavy nap, his eyes watery and vague. He reminded me of the man one sometimes meets in the aisle of a sleeping-car when one boards the train at a way station in the night.