intelligent,—­but that was a comparatively harmless mistake,—­and he had never observed that a woman thought less of a man who thought well of himself.  Aside from this surface weakness William Pressley was a most worthy young fellow; far more worthy to be Ruth’s husband than any one else in that rough and thinly settled country.  The nearer the time for the marriage approached, the more Philip Alston came to believe that he had chosen wisely in selecting William Pressley.  Fully convinced at last that he could not do better for her future than to intrust it to this serious, conscientious young man, who was unquestionably fond of her and to whom she was much attached, he now rested content.  He still found, to be sure, some amusement in the young man’s estimate of himself; but he never doubted its sincerity or questioned its harmlessness.  It did not occur to him that Ruth might be troubled by these matters which merely made him smile.

There would have been a warning for him in the look which she now gave William Pressley had he seen it.  But he was looking at the judge, who could not grasp the meaning of what had been said; and he tried again to put the facts before him, but the judge would not allow him to finish.

“Who says Joe Daviess is going away?” he demanded excitedly.  “Why, he can’t leave.  It’s out of the question.  There is nobody to take his place.  We can’t spare him.  It is preposterous to think of his going to be slaughtered by those red devils.  A man like that! when there are plenty of no-account wretches good enough to make food for powder.  He mustn’t go.  The country needs him more here than there—­or anywhere.  And I will see him to-morrow, for he is coming; tell him so, by ——!”

“You will have your trouble for nothing, then, sir,” said Philip Alston, quietly, interrupting him.  “The attorney-general is not a man to let another man tell him what to do or not to do.  And we are merely considering the probability of his going.  If he should go, some one must, of course, take his place.  In that case I can think of no one more fit than William here,” laying his hand on the young man’s arm.  “With his qualifications, backed by your influence and mine, there should not be much difficulty.  But we must press his claims in time; the notice will be short.”

The idea was new to the judge and startling.  He turned quickly and looked at his nephew blankly for a moment, and then his left eyebrow went up.  His opinion was easy enough to read on his open, rugged face as it always was, and Philip Alston read it like large print; but it did not suit him to show that he did, and no one else saw it.  Ruth’s face was buried in her hands as she sat with her elbows on the candle-stand.  William was looking at the floor with the quiet air of one who is calmly conscious of his own merits, and can afford to await their recognition, even though it may be tardy.  The ladies were deeply absorbed in the duties binding them to the hearth.  The coffee was now ready, and Miss Penelope lifted the pot from its trivet, and, carrying it to the table, called everybody to supper.  No affairs of state ever were, or ever could be, of sufficient importance in her eyes to justify letting the coffee get cold.