"You are right, Belford, and I appreciate your sensitiveness. Yes, Sir, you are right. But he won't object."
As we drew near to the house we saw Estell standing under a walnut tree. "Go on in," said the Senator, "and I will have a talk with him. It's a matter of no importance, you understand. We can hire a man to keep the books. But I'll speak to him."
I passed on into the library. The dog, that had presumed to disobey the mistress of the house, lay stretched upon the floor, and as I entered he looked up contemptuously, and then to all appearances resumed his nap. Presently Mrs. Estell came in.
"You are back early," she said. "What are you doing here?" This was spoken to the dog. He raised his head and gave her an appealing look. "They want you out there to catch a chicken to send to a sick man."
The dog brightened, jumped up and trotted out, and soon a squawk and a command from a negro woman announced that he had done his work.
"It is all arranged," I said.
"I knew it would be," she replied. "My father gets nearly everything he goes after."
"And he is now after Mr. Estell, to get his consent—"
"Consent!" she broke in. "Consent about what?"
"Why, the Senator thought it would be a good idea to bring the books up here and let you keep them."