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 “Do you mean the study, Captain?”

“Yes, the study, the whole place.”

“It's very pleasant,” replied Peter; “it has the atmosphere of age.”

Captain Renfrew nodded.

“These old places,” pursued Peter, “always give me an impression of statesmanship, somehow. I always think of grave old gentlemen busy with the cares of public policy.”

The old man seemed gratified.

“You are sensitive to atmosphere. If I may say it, every Southron of the old régime was a statesman by nature and training. The complete care of two or three hundred negroes, a regard for their bodily, moral, and spiritual welfare, inevitably led the master into the impersonal attitude of statecraft. It was a training, sir, in leadership, in social thinking, in, if you please, altruism.” The old gentleman thumped the arm of his chair with a translucent palm. “Yes, sir, negro slavery was God's great lesson to the South in altruism and loving-kindness, sir! My boy, I do believe with all my heart that the institution of slavery was placed here in God's country to rear up giants of political leadership, that our nation might weather the revolutions of the world. Oh, the Yankees are necessary! I know that!” The old Captain held up a palm at Peter as if repressing an imminent retort. “I know the Yankees are the Marthas of the nation. They furnish food and fuel to the ship of state, but,