There were candles and flowers on the round table, and the dishes and silver were Mrs. Owen’s “company best,” which was very good indeed.  The admiral and Professor Kelton sat at Mrs. Owen’s right and left, and Sylvia found herself between the minister and the admiral.  The talk was at once brisk and general.  The admiral’s voice boomed out tremendously and when he laughed the glasses jingled.  Every one was in the best of spirits and Sylvia was relieved to find that her grandfather was enjoying himself immensely.  The admiral’s jokes harked back to old times, when he and Kelton were at the Naval Academy, or to their adventures in the war.  It was odd to hear Mrs. Owen and the admiral calling her grandfather “Andrew” and “Andy”; no one else had ever done that; and both men addressed Mrs. Owen as “Sally.”  At a moment when Sylvia had begun to feel the least bit awkward at being the only silent member of the company, the minister spoke to her.  He had seemed at first glance a stoical person; but his deep-set, brown eyes were bright with good humor.

“These old sea dogs made a lot of history.  I suppose you know a good deal about the sea from your grandfather.”

“Yes; but I’ve never seen the sea.”

“I’ve crossed it once or twice and tramped England and Scotland.  I wanted to see Burns’s country and the house at Chelsea where Carlyle smoked his pipe.  But I like our home folks best.”

“Mr. Ware,” growled the admiral, “a man told me the other day that you’d served in the Army.  I wish I’d had a chaplain like you in the Navy; I might have been a different man.”

Mrs. Owen glanced at Ware with a twinkle in her eyes.

“Afraid I’m going to be discovered,” he remarked to Sylvia as he buttered a bit of bread.

“Well, what part of the Army did you serve in?” demanded the admiral.

“Captain, Fifth New York Cavalry,” replied the minister quietly, shrugging his shoulders.

“Captain!  You were a fighting man?” the admiral boomed.

“Sort of one.  We had a good deal of fun one way or another.  Four years of it.  Didn’t begin fighting the Devil till afterward.  How are things at the college, Doctor Kelton?”

Ware thus characteristically turned the conversation from himself.  It was evident that he did not care to discuss his military experiences; in a moment they were talking politics, in which he seemed greatly interested.

“We’ve kept bosses out of this state pretty well,” Professor Kelton was saying, “but I can see one or two gentlemen on both sides of the fence trying to play that game.  I don’t believe the people of Indiana will submit to it.  The bosses need big cities to prey on and we aren’t big enough for them to work in and hide in.  We all live in the open and we’re mostly seasoned American stock who won’t be driven like a lot of foreign cattle.  This city isn’t a country town any longer, but it’s still American.  I don’t know of any boss here.”