What a joyful supper they had,—­just the three of them!  And as the fresh roses filled the room with fragrance, Virginia filled it with youth and spirits, and Mr. Carvel and the Captain with honest, manly merriment.  And Jackson plied Captain Brent (who was a prime favorite in that house) with broiled chicken and hot beat biscuits and with waffles, until at length he lay back in his chair and heaved a sigh of content, lighting a cigar.  And then Virginia, with a little curtsey to both of them, ran off to dress for the party.

“Well,” said Captain Brent, “I reckon there’ll be gay goings-on here to-night.  I wouldn’t miss the sight of ’em, Colonel, for all the cargoes on the Mississippi.  Ain’t there anything I can do?”

“No, thank you, Lige,” Mr. Carvel answered.  “Do you remember, one morning some five years ago, when I took in at the store a Yankee named Hopper?  You didn’t like him, I believe.”

Captain Brent jumped, and the ashes of his cigar fell on his coat.  He had forgotten his conversation with Captain Grant.

“I reckon I do,” he said dryly.

For a moment he was on the point of telling the affair.  Then he desisted.  He could not be sure of Eliphalet from Grant’s description.  So he decided to await a better time.  Captain Brent was one to make sure of his channel before going ahead.

“Well,” continued the Colonel, “I have been rather pushed the last week, and Hopper managed things for this dance.  He got the music, and saw the confectioner.  But he made such a close bargain with both of ’em that they came around to me afterward,” he added, laughing.

“Is he coming here to-night?” demanded the Captain, looking disgusted.

“Lige,” replied the Colonel, “you never do get over a prejudice.  Yes, he’s coming, just to oversee things.  He seems to have mighty little pleasure, and he’s got the best business head I ever did see.  A Yankee,” said Mr. Carvel, meditatively, as he put on his hat, “a Yankee, when he will work, works like all possessed.  Hood don’t like him any more than you do, but he allows Hopper is a natural-born business man.  Last month Samuels got tight, and Wright & Company were going to place the largest order in years.  I called in Hood.  ‘Go yourself, Colonel,’ says he.  I I’m too old to solicit business, Hood,’ said I.  ’Then there’s only one man to send,’ says he, ’young Hopper.  He’ll get the order, or I’ll give up this place I’ve had for twenty years.’  Hopper ‘callated’ to get it, and another small one pitched in.  And you’d die laughing, Lige, to hear how he did it.”

“Some slickness, I’ll gamble,” grunted Captain Lige.

“Well, I reckon ’twas slick,” said the Colonel, thoughtfully.  “You know old man Wright hates a solicitor like poison.  He has his notions.  And maybe you’ve noticed signs stuck up all over his store, ’No Solicitors nor Travelling Men Allowed Here’”

The Captain nodded.