"That is too bad," remarked the young man sympathetically, though with a preoccupation that was eloquent of larger affairs.
"Could you tell me whether any members of the governor's family are at home?"
"Oh, yes; Mrs. Dangerfield and Miss Jerry are at the mansion."
"Miss Jerry?"
"Miss Geraldine. We all call her Miss Jerry in North Carolina."
"Oh, yes; to be sure. Let me see; it's over this way to the mansion, isn't it?" inquired Ardmore.
"No; out the other end of the building—and turn to your right. You can't miss it."
The room was quiet, the secretary a young man of address and intelligence. Here, without question, was the place for Ardmore to discharge his business and be quit of it; but having at last snatched a commission from fleeting opportunity it was not for him to throw it to another man. As he opened the door to leave, the secretary arrested him.
"Oh, Mr.—pardon me, but did you come in from the south this morning?"
"Yes; I came up on the Tar Heel Express from Atlanta."