“You’ll sit here, if you please, Mr. Thornton,” she said, urbanely.

For a little while a trifle of embarrassment shaded the few words the young couple addressed to each other, under cover of the general conversation about the board.  Then Harlan, glancing down the table, saw Linton staring gloomily in his direction.  And at that look his spirits leaped like a steed under the spur.  What he had not dared, considering himself on his own merits, he ventured now.  If vague, hidden sentiment, as he had thought of Clare Kavanagh, had restrained him in the past, it no longer restrained him now.

The excitement of the day had given him a queer exaltation.  He had been one of the chiefs in the arena where all the great State looked on at the combatants.  The overlord had just given him soul-stirring proof of his affection, half in jest as Harlan realized, remembering the occasion for it, but it was none the less gratifying.  Madeleine Presson had looked at him with strange, new interest in her gaze when the General spoke out.  It had occurred to Harlan that it was not the same good-humored tolerance which she had so frequently shown in her past relations with the bashful woodsman.  His unquiet grudge against Linton spiced the whole.

He turned to the girl.

She seemed altogether desirable.  Something in her eyes responded to his own feelings.  And after that he seemed to be listening to himself talking—­and wondered at the new man he had become.

When it was over, and the ladies rose from the table to follow Mrs. Presson, he tried, feeling guilty for a moment, to remember the look that Linton had given him and to excuse himself as one who had simply shown the proper spirit of revenge.  But when he took her hand he said:  “My grandfather carried me away from you and your mother in very ungallant fashion yesterday.  And he tried to put ungallant words into my mouth.  I trust you’ll allow me to disprove them.  I’d like the privilege of being your obedient squire on the trip home.”

“So now that you’ve become a very big man you’ve decided that grandfathers shall no longer be indulged in tyranny?” she asked, with a dash of malicious fun.

“I view matters in a new light,” he replied.

“And there’s a wonderful psychology in light, so they who have studied the matter tell us,” she said, mischief in her eyes.  “But we’ll not go so deeply into the matter.  Let it be a light that will guide your footsteps to our rooms at train-time.  You will find us awaiting our squire!”

General Waymouth excused himself as soon as the ladies had retired.  The little group of men had promptly begun to canvass the outlook and plans, but he demurred politely when they desired to drag him into the discussion.

“Not yet, gentlemen!  We have had enough of talk in the last few hours.  Let me escape to the old brick house up in Burnside for a while.  My train goes shortly.  Will you accompany me, Harlan?” It was the first time he had used the young man’s christian-name Harlan flushed with pleasure.  “I will see that you get back here in good season to bring that guiding light,” he murmured, to the other’s confusion.