“Stranger, what I'm a-goin' to tell you, you'll take as bein' said man to man,” he began, with the impressive air of one who had a secret of great moment to impart; and Yancy hastened to assure him that whatever passed between them, his lips should be sealed. “It ain't really that, but I don't wish to appear proud afo' no man's, eyes. First, I want to ask you, did you ever hear tell of titles?”
Polly and the children hung breathlessly on Mr. Yancy's reply.
“I certainly have,” he rejoined promptly. “Back in No'th Carolina we went by the chimneys.”
“Chimneys? What's chimneys got to do with titles, Mr. Yancy?” asked Polly, while her husband appeared profoundly mystified.
“A whole lot, ma'am. If a man had two chimneys to his house we always called him Colonel, if there was four chimneys we called him General.”
“La!” cried Polly, smiling and showing a number of new dimples. “Dick don't mean militia titles, Mr. Yancy.”
“Them's the only ones I know anything of,” confessed Yancy.
“Ever hear tell of lords?” inquired Chills and Fever, tilting his head on one side.
“No.” And Yancy was quick to notice the look of disappointment on the faces of his new friends. He felt that for some reason, which was by no means clear to him, he had lost caste.
“Are you ever heard of royalty?” and Cavendish fixed the invalid's wandering glance.