"I am glad to be at home, my dear Ann," he said, as they met on the porch. "Ah! Grey, so you are come at last. It is not too late to say how very welcome you are; and John, I believe you have grown an inch since I left."
They went in, chatting and merry. The Squire cast an amused look at the big spittoon and then at his wife, and went upstairs to dress for dinner. At the meal no one for a variety of good reasons mentioned Josiah. The tall soldier with the readiness of helpless courtesy fell into the talk of politics which Grey desired. "Yes, Buchanan will carry the State, Grey, but by no large majority."
"And the general election?" asked the cousin.
"Yes, that is my fear. He will be elected."
Ann, who dreaded these discussions, had just now a reproachful political conscience. She glanced at her husband expecting him to defend his beliefs. He was silent, however, while Grey exclaimed, "Fear, sir—fear? You surely cannot mean to say—to imply that the election of a black Republican would be desirable." He laid down his fork and was about to become untimely eloquent—Rivers smiled—watching the Squire and his wife, as Penhallow said:
"Pardon me, Grey, but I cannot have my best mutton neglected."
"Oh, yes—yes—but a word—a word. Elect Fremont—and we secede. Elect
Buchanan—and the Union is safe. There, sir, you have it in a nutshell."
"Ah, my dear Grey," said Penhallow, "this is rather of the nature of a threat—never a very digestible thing—for me, at least—and I am not very convincible. We will discuss it over our wine or a cigar." He turned to his wife, "Any news of Leila, Ann?"
"Yes, I had a letter to-day," she returned, somewhat relieved. "She seems to be better satisfied."
Grey accepted the interrupting hint and fell to critical talk of the Squire's horses. After the wine Penhallow carried off his guest to the library, and avoiding politics with difficulty was unutterably bored by the little gentleman's reminiscent nothings about himself, his crops, tobacco, wines, his habits of life, what agreed with him and what did not. At last, with some final whisky, Mr. Grey went to bed.