When it began, only three persons
were engaged in it, two of whom, McPheeters and Lesponts,
were in lounging-chairs, with their feet stretched out towards the log fire,
while the third, Newton, stood with his back to the great hearth,
and his coat-tails well divided. The other men were scattered about the room,
one or two writing at tables, three or four reading the evening papers,
and the rest talking and sipping whiskey and water, or only talking
or only sipping whiskey and water. As the conversation proceeded
around the fireplace, however, one after another joined the group there,
until the circle included every man in the room.
It had begun by Lesponts, who had been looking intently at Newton
for some moments as he stood before the fire with his legs well apart
and his eyes fastened on the carpet, breaking the silence by asking, suddenly:
"Are you going home?"
"I don't know," said Newton, doubtfully, recalled from somewhere in dreamland,
but so slowly that a part of his thoughts were still lingering there.
"I haven't made up my mind -- I'm not sure that I can go so far as Virginia,
and I have an invitation to a delightful place -- a house-party near here."
"Newton, anybody would know that you were a Virginian," said McPheeters,
"by the way you stand before that fire.
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