OLD 
 
 WASHINGTON 
 
 HARRIET PRESCOTT SPOFFORD 
 
OLD WASHINGTON 
 
Veronica Sidney and her sister Sedley. 
 
 A THANKSGIVING BREAKFAST, /re-, 
 
8 
 
 :; 
 
 I 
 
 OLD 
 WASHINGTON 
 
 BY 
 HARRIET PRESCOTT SPOFFORD 
 
 Author of 
 
 THE AMBER GODS," "IN TITIAN S GARDEN AND OTHER POEMS," 
 "HESTER STANLEY AT ST. MARK S," ETC. 
 
 With a Frontispiece from a Drawing 
 By George Alfred Williams 
 
 BOSTON 
 LITTLE, BROWN, AND COMPANY 
 
 1906 
 
COPYRIGHT, 1906, 
 BY LITTLE, BROWN, AND COMPANY. 
 
 All rights reserved 
 
 Published March, 1906. 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY PRESS, CAMBRIDGE, U. S. A. 
 
Thanks are due Messrs. Harper and Brothers, and 
 others, for the courtesy of republication. 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 PAGE 
 
 A THANKSGIVING BREAKFAST . . . 
 
 A GUARDIAN ANGEL 
 
 IN A CONSPIRACY 
 
 A LITTLE OLD WOMAN 
 
 THE COLONEL S CHRISTMAS . .. . 241 
 
I 
 
 A Thanksgiving Breakfast 
 
A Thanksgiving Breakfast 
 
 PERHAPS you remember the house, 
 a little remote from the Avenue and 
 its approaches, in that part of the 
 town which is now the fashionable centre, 
 but was then on the edge of a wood, a house 
 sitting high on its terraces, half covered 
 with honeysuckles green all winter, and half 
 hidden by its hedges. 
 
 Here Miss Veronica and her sister lived, 
 intrenched not only behind their hedges, but 
 behind a respectability that took small note 
 of new people and affairs ; and as some trees 
 find sustenance in the decay of their roots, 
 they nourished themselves upon past gran 
 deur. Administrations came and adminis 
 trations went ; they passed like ephemera 
 before Miss Veronica and Miss Sedley. In 
 forty years they had not thought it worth 
 while to attend a President s levee, or to 
 enter the White House at all. The Capitol 
 had blown up the bubble of its mighty dome 
 [3] 
 
OLD WASHINGTON 
 
 un visited by them. The Civil War had 
 surged over the country, scarcely causing 
 them a heart-throb. When Early made his 
 raid upon the borders of the town they only 
 smiled to hear of it ; they were Southern 
 ladies, and safe in any event. Soldiers 
 marched and countermarched in street and 
 avenue they only bowed their blinds and 
 sat farther back in their parlors. Milly 
 and Hark became free people ; the country 
 rocked with jubilation and blazed with ban 
 ners ; so far as they were conscious of it they 
 regarded it as a part of the latter-day ruin. 
 A President was impeached ; it did not 
 signify ; the new Presidents were like chil 
 dren playing with crowns and sceptres. As 
 nearly as possible time and the march of 
 nations stood still that Miss Veronica Sidney 
 and her sister Sedley might pass, pausing, if 
 not with that President who had been an 
 uncle-in-law of some long dead aunt of 
 theirs, yet with his immediate successors. 
 
 The income of these old gentlewomen 
 was very small, consisting of the rents of 
 certain houses, sometimes paid and some 
 times not, and it was now smaller than ever, 
 [4] 
 
A THANKSGIVING BREAKFAST 
 
 since under the new system of street im 
 provement some of the houses had simply 
 been swallowed in the abyss of the better 
 ments. But their needs were very small 
 also. They changed the fashion of their 
 garments but little ; one wax candle burned 
 a long while ; and the best part of the table 
 was its thin old silver. The Easter ham, 
 stuffed with chives and shallots, lasted them 
 almost to Ascension ; and there was some 
 of the Christmas pudding left not only for 
 Twelfth-night but for Candlemas. They 
 paid wages now to Milly, small ones, but 
 none at all to Hark, who waited at table 
 and on the door, and had his satisfaction in 
 it ; and the two old slaves, beaming and 
 content, said nothing about the fact that 
 they were much better off than their mis 
 tresses, having long ago squatted on some 
 vacant lots, and having now sold out for 
 an independence. Milly went home every 
 evening, and came back every morning as 
 Miss Veronica opened the door to go out 
 to six o clock mass, for the sisters were 
 devout Catholics. And with Milly came 
 half a dozen little pickaninnies in every 
 [5] 
 
OLD WASHINGTON 
 
 size and shade, who played all day on the 
 brick floor of the great kitchen or in the 
 area behind it, and who were fed at no par 
 ticular cost on potatoes and gravy. Hark 
 did the marketing and whatever might be 
 come a man ; and if now and then dainties 
 in the shape of an early radish or a crisp 
 lettuce, a shaddock dressed with sherry, a 
 devilled crab, a bird, appeared on the table, 
 the ladies only thought how apt Hark was 
 at getting the money s worth, and never 
 dreamed that it was Hark s money. 
 
 So Miss Veronica s and Miss Sedley s 
 days went by in a great quiet. They had 
 a few friends, somewhat like themselves, 
 with whom they exchanged visits. They 
 occasionally went over to the convent and 
 got the news of the world. They now and 
 then read a newspaper, but with the air of 
 holding it with a pair of tongs. They re 
 garded a woman who wrote for the papers 
 as false to her sex ; an interviewer was some 
 thing less reprehensible than a housebreaker 
 perhaps ; and they associated suffrage in 
 their minds with divorce, and regarded them 
 both as scandals, for mention of which, were 
 [6] 
 
A THANKSGIVING BREAKFAST 
 
 it necessary to allude to them, you lowered 
 your voice. Their contempt for the North, 
 its fasts and feasts and people, was inbred, 
 but was not active, the subject being too 
 remote to concern them They looked 
 askance at the employment of women in 
 the Treasury ; and they took almost as 
 much care not to brush their skirts against 
 a Treasury girl as against a play-actress, as 
 they called it a person who represented 
 to them an unknown quantity, not exactly 
 human, but allied to the powers of evil. 
 And as for modern science, so far as they 
 knew anything about it, it was a fairy story, 
 or a lure of the devil, and they regarded 
 mention of protoplasm or germs or evolution 
 as uncomfortably near profanity. They did 
 endless cross-stitch with crewels on canvas, 
 and some beautiful tambour- work on muslin. 
 They had a week of dissipation when one 
 of the Fairs of their Church took place ; and 
 they would revel in half the bad passions 
 of the race over the countless raffles for 
 a picture, an India shawl, a lace mantle, 
 there. When Miss Sedley broke her arm, 
 Miss Veronica kept the bandages wet with 
 [7] 
 
OLD WASHINGTON 
 
 holy water, and was confident that the 
 dressing did more good than the surgeon s 
 splints. And Miss Sedley had for some 
 time been putting by a secret hoard, if by 
 possibility it might reach such proportions 
 that Miss Veronica could make the pilgrim 
 age to Lourdes, not very long known then, 
 and wash away the little knobs that were 
 coming on the joints of her long white 
 slender fingers. 
 
 So, neither of the world nor in the world, 
 they sat one summer morning, now and 
 then murmuring a sentence or two, wearing 
 their old sheer muslin gowns, a little open 
 at the ruffled throat, a faint color from the 
 heat upon their withered cheeks, the slightly 
 loose and thin gray hair having the fine curl 
 about the brow which belongs alike to age 
 and infancy, as beautiful, alas ! as it is 
 given to old women to be. And they slowly 
 waved their great feather fans, more with 
 a sense of the terrible heat that struck up 
 from the blazing concrete pavements out 
 side, than with any actual experience of it 
 here where the south wind blew in at the 
 windows and brought with it the sweetness 
 [8] 
 
A THANKSGIVING BREAKFAST 
 
 of the roses that bent their long stems and 
 swung damask and maroon and blush and 
 white, such heavy hundred-leaved roses as 
 summer seldom gives the North. Miss Sed- 
 ley had yawned and yawned again. " Dear, 
 dear," she said. " It does seem as if life 
 were too empty to live. One day just like 
 another, and nothing ever happening." 
 
 " Sometimes it seems to me," said Miss 
 Veronica, "as if we were our own ghosts," 
 and then she stopped, overcome with the 
 irreverence of the fancy. " I mean we are 
 really so dead, not merely dead and alive, 
 but dead. There is nothing that could 
 happen." 
 
 " Oh, sister ! " 
 
 " There is no one to come. And no one 
 to go. Nothing to hope for. Nothing to 
 wish. There are old people who amount 
 to something. But I reckon they married, 
 or their sisters did " 
 
 " Yes, oh, yes ! " 
 
 "If we only had some one to love, 
 Sedley, I would not care how worthless 
 it would be better than stagnation." 
 
 " Oh, sister ! " 
 
 [9] 
 
OLD WASHINGTON 
 
 " I Ve always been tolerably content, you 
 know," said Miss Veronica, taking the little 
 powder-puff from the reticule on her arm 
 and cooling her face with it, " but lately I 
 have thought we might as well be dead and 
 done with as done with and not dead ! " 
 
 " 1 m afraid it is very irreligious. I feel 
 so, too. I m afraid perhaps we Ve been 
 living too well. It has puffed us up and 
 made us discontented. I m afraid I w r ould 
 better tell Milly," said Miss Sedley, "not 
 to put caraway into the next seed-cakes." 
 
 Perhaps the sisters were dozing then, the 
 briefest moment possible, when a blow from 
 the knocker resounded through the hall, and 
 resounded again with determination, before 
 Hark could loiter up from the kitchen and 
 shuffle along to the door. 
 
 " Oh, my goodness ! " cried Miss Sedley. 
 " To think of any one out in this heat ! 
 Who do you suppose it can be ? Perhaps 
 it is Mrs. Entwisle s Polly about the goose 
 berries. You don t think it can be Father 
 Walter ? I wish the sherbet Oh ah 
 yes no I m sure " For Hark was 
 taking an impression of his thumb on a 
 [10] 
 
A THANKSGIVING BREAKFAST 
 
 visiting-card, and Miss Veronica had slowly 
 adjusted her lorgnon and read 
 
 Miss CELESTE DRKER 
 
 The Graphic 
 The Free Press 
 
 without, however, observing the lower left- 
 hand corner, and had passed the card to her 
 sister. 
 
 "Dreer?" she said. "Dreer? There 
 were the Yardley Dreers, and the Queen 
 Anne County Dreers well, well Yes, 
 Hark, of course we shall be pleased." And 
 then a young lady in a frou-frou of light 
 summer silk and a hat of corn-flowers and 
 poppies was in the room and bending with 
 a pretty grace to the old ladies, opening a 
 fan that swung at her waist, taking the seat 
 they both indicated at the same moment, a 
 pair of keen quick eyes busying themselves 
 with the environment. 
 
 " No," she said in bright, crisp tones. 
 " I m so sorry. But I m neither the Yard- 
 ley nor the Queen Anne Dreers. I m just a 
 no-account Dreer. But when I was quite a 
 little girl old Chancellor Babb used to tell 
 me of you " 
 
OLD WASHINGTON 
 " The Chancellor ! Indeed ! It is so long 
 
 since " 
 
 "And my kind friend, General Fitz 
 Hardee - 
 
 " Oh, certainly, any friend of General 
 Fitz Hardee!" * 
 
 "And so I am venturing, although it 
 is so unceremonious, and I am awfully 
 afraid a thunder-gust is coming up." 
 
 And by this time the lively eyes had 
 taken in the lofty old-fashioned room, where 
 the Canton mattings diffused their odor of 
 dates ; where Windsor chairs stood between 
 white dimity-covered sofas ; bright Lowes- 
 toft china illuminated dark wall-cabinets ; 
 spidery tables held jars of pot-pourri and 
 great bowls of fresh roses and one or two 
 faded silken-bound Souvenirs and Annuals ; 
 where a spindle-legged piano, whose ivory 
 inlay was yellow as old paper, companioned 
 a harp over whose strings and tarnished gild 
 ing she could in an instant see Miss Sedley 
 drooping the flaxen ringlets and curving the 
 round white arms of long ago ; and where 
 half-guessed in the shadow and the dimness 
 the portraits of gentlemen in gold lace, and 
 
A THANKSGIVING BREAKFAST 
 
 of ladies in long corsets and scarfs and 
 feathers, looked down from the walls among 
 century-old engravings framed in black and 
 bearing long-descended stains. 
 
 " Oh, we do not mind the thunder-gusts," 
 said Miss Veronica. 
 
 " I do, then," said the visitor. " I grow 
 stone-cold, and have to have something 
 warm to drink, and nearly die with fright 
 anyway. But I had to come. You know 
 after Congress is gone and there s nothing 
 doing at the Departments or in society, 
 there s so little to write about, and " 
 
 " You want to tell them at home that 
 you have seen their old friends," said Miss 
 Sedley. 
 
 " Oh, dear, no ! nothing of the sort. You 
 must excuse my saying so, but what a per 
 fectly charming room this is ! Who would 
 think, down in Mrs. McQueen s stuffy board 
 ing-house, that such a cool bowery place of 
 seclusion could be found in the same town ? 
 You can never know anything about the 
 heat, here. Why, some nights I just gasp 
 for breath. We take our chairs out on the 
 sidewalk after dark and simply suffer. I 
 [13] 
 
OLD WASHINGTON 
 
 went to sleep last summer for six weeks 
 with the thermometer at a hundred and 
 two, and it was ninety-eight when I woke 
 up. In the daytime it was hotter after a 
 shower than it was before. I held my para 
 sol down coming up here, for the heat from 
 the pavement was worse than the heat from 
 the sky. Oh, it is so deliciously cool in here ! " 
 And she stopped talking long enough to use 
 her fan vigorously. 
 
 " We were thinking it warm," said Miss 
 Veronica. 
 
 " In this place ! Why, it belongs to the 
 Dwelling of Delightful Days ! It is ages 
 ago here, but without the dust of ages. Oh, 
 it is fine to have your grandmothers old 
 low-boys when you don t have to have your 
 grandmothers old cobwebs too! And will 
 you really let me see the things you have 
 that belonged to the President? What 
 treasures ! oh, what treasures ! " 
 
 And Miss Veronica and Miss Sedley were 
 as wax in the hands of this young business 
 woman; and the gold-embroidered waist 
 coat, and the Malines lace ruffles, and the 
 gold snuff-box, and the order given by the 
 [14] 
 
A THANKSGIVING BREAKFAST 
 
 King of Spain, and the diary kept at sea, 
 and the sleeve-links and the mourning-ring 
 and the paste knee-buckles, and the lock of 
 his hair, passed processionally before her. 
 
 " And this work-box," said Miss Veronica 
 at last, "was once the property of Queen 
 Marie Antoinette." 
 
 " That ! " 
 
 Miss Sedley bridled. " Perhaps you have 
 not examined it," she said. "It is ebony 
 and niello- work." 
 
 " I beg your pardon. I m right glad you 
 told me. I thought it was just bits of 
 woodcuts, you know, laid on the black 
 wood and varnished over, like mamma used 
 to do." 
 
 "The i-dea!" said Miss Sedley. "It 
 came from the Little Trianon. There is 
 her thimble with the topaz top ; there is the 
 bit of lace and lawn she was beginning 
 See where the needle was stuck in hur 
 riedly as she laid it down. There is a tiny 
 blood-spot where she pricked her finger " 
 
 " Oh, the poor lovely creature ! the poor, 
 great, sweet martyr! Oh, Miss Sidney, if 
 you would let me touch it ! " And she lifted 
 [15] 
 
OLD WASHINGTON 
 
 it over the tip of her finger, and suddenly 
 pressed her lips upon the tiny spot and held 
 it to her glowing cheek. 
 
 " You dear ehild 1 You dear girl ! " cried 
 Miss Veronica. " How susceptible you are ! 
 We should not have shown it to you. 
 We " 
 
 " Oh, yes, yes ! You have given me such 
 a pleasure ! It has been such an expe 
 rience ! " 
 
 And at that Miss Sedley had gone up 
 stairs and brought down a gown in which 
 some one had danced with Aaron Burr, two 
 breadths and a gore of a brocade whose deli 
 cate rose tints and multitudinous yellowing 
 ribbons would not have been unbecoming to 
 either of the gentle ladies then. " Now," 
 said Miss Sedley, when this also had been 
 sufficiently admired, " I think we really 
 must have some sherbet, sister. Shall I 
 speak to Hark ? " And while Miss Veronica 
 was telling the adventures of that dance, 
 Celeste was eating cherry ice with a little 
 thin gold apostle-spoon, and wondering how 
 these people lived cut off from the present ; 
 and if they really were alive ; and were she 
 [16] 
 
A THANKSGIVING BREAKFAST 
 
 once outside could she ever find the house 
 again ; and if she could remember half that 
 she had seen and heard. And she walked 
 home almost as well pleased with herself as 
 she was when, some ten days afterward, she 
 again stood at the door with the slip of 
 newspaper containing the letter in which 
 she had described the place, the house, the 
 treasures, and the ladies themselves. 
 
 She received, as she expected, the most 
 cordial welcome. The sweet old ladies 
 Miss Veronica tall and slender, Miss Sedley 
 not so tall and not so slender, in their soft 
 muslin gowns, with their great feather fans, 
 and the faint flush of the heat on their 
 cheeks seemed to have been sitting in the 
 same spot since she left them. " I declare," 
 she said afterwards, " I wanted to pinch 
 myself to make sure it was n t some absurd 
 enchantment, or I was n t dreaming, or 
 something." But she only waved her own 
 fan and unfolded the slip of newspaper. 
 
 "Now," she said gayly, "it is my turn. 
 I have brought you something. And I do 
 hope it will give you the pleasure to read 
 it that it did me to write it ! " 
 2 [17] 
 
OLD WASHINGTON 
 
 Miss Veronica and Miss Sedley Sidney 
 bent their heads together over the slip of 
 paper she handed them. She had cut off 
 the scare-heads, because she had not been 
 responsible for them, and would not have 
 had them " Two Ancient Beauties of the 
 District," "Butterflies in Amber," "Links 
 with Aaron Burr" -and the letter itself she 
 knew was not half bad. She had taken off 
 her hat at their request, they a little flat 
 tered that youth had found them pleasant 
 enough to come back so soon, and she sat 
 with a smile on her face expectant of the 
 smile on theirs. 
 
 " Oh ! " she suddenly heard Miss Veronica 
 exclaim, like a cry of pain ; "it is impos 
 sible ! " 
 
 " Oh ! " Miss Sedley echoed her sister. 
 " I cannot believe it." 
 
 The faint blush on their faces grew a deep 
 scarlet, their eyes were staring wide and 
 frightened, their lips trembled, their hands 
 trembled. 
 
 " 1 cannot read it," stammered Miss Ver 
 onica. "I I have never been so in 
 sulted in my life." 
 
 [18] 
 
A THANKSGIVING BREAKFAST 
 
 " So outraged," whispered Miss Sedley. 
 
 " So humiliated ! " 
 
 " I don t know what you mean ! " cried 
 Celeste, her cheeks blazing. " Do you 
 
 " Oh ! " exclaimed Miss Veronica, looking 
 at her a moment with burning eyes. " We 
 do not mean anything. Only please to go 
 away." 
 
 " But I don t understand," urged Celeste. 
 " Have n t I said enough ? Have I made a 
 mistake ? Is there anything wrong ? " 
 
 " Oh, it is all wrong ! " cried Miss Sedley. 
 
 " All wrong ? " Celeste repeated tremu 
 lously. 
 
 " Oh, cruel ! Wrong and cruel ! " 
 
 "Wrong and cruel! Why, there must 
 be You can t I don t see " 
 
 " You don t see," exclaimed Miss Veron 
 ica, "that you have come into our quiet 
 lives and stripped them bare, and let in the 
 glare as if I threw that blind open to the 
 sun ? That you have violated our hos 
 pitality " 
 
 "Our welcome." 
 
 " Our friendliness," the slip of paper shak 
 ing in the knobby fingers. 
 [19] 
 
OLD A V A s H i x G T o x 
 
 " Our confidence." 
 
 "That you have betrayed us, exposed us. 
 Oh, we shall not dare to be seen upon the 
 street " 
 
 To show our faces ! " 
 
 "I I thought you would be pleased," 
 faltered Celeste. 
 
 * Pleased ! Pleased to be held up as a 
 show; to be bandied about the crowd ; to 
 be vulgarized ; to be in the mouth of 
 people as if we were criminals ; to be 
 to be profaned M 
 
 And we have lived such quiet lives, - 
 so respectable," said Miss Sedley, her lips 
 quivering again. And now our modesty, 
 our decency v 
 
 "Oh, don t, don t, don t!" cried Celeste, 
 springing up with her hands upon her eyes, 
 from which the tears were spurting. " How 
 could I tell ? Every one else has liked it. 
 People have offered me money to do it. It 
 is my livelihood. I get enough from my 
 papers to pay a week s board for the 
 letter " 
 
 "A reporter!" 
 
 But, oh ! I would never, never have 
 
A THANKSGIVING BREAKFAST 
 
 done it if I had thought you felt this way. 
 I don t understand now. I don t see why. 
 Oh, I liked you so ! You were so sweet to 
 me. I never saw any one I felt so near to all 
 at once. And now Oh, you are break 
 ing my heart!" And her voice had risen 
 almost to a scream, and she had thrown her 
 self on her knees beside Miss Veronica, and 
 buried her face in the lady s lap, sobbing 
 bitterly. 
 
 " I am glad you feel so," said Miss Sed- 
 ley. " It is something to have you see what 
 you have done." 
 
 " Oh, oh ! " she cried, lifting her hot wet 
 face. " It is n t any matter about me. Oh, 
 I am so sorry 1 did it, when you feel so ! 
 I could n t know I never dreamed oh ! 
 oh ! oh ! " And she cried so that Miss Ver 
 onica, who at first had shrunk away, put 
 out her hand and laid it on her hair. But 
 the sobs only grew wilder, more uncontrol 
 lable, and convulsive. 
 
 " Really," said Miss Veronica, " you 
 must n t. Indeed you must n t. I I 
 did n t know you were so sensitive I am 
 sure " 
 
 [21] 
 
OLD WASHINGTON 
 
 " Please don t feel so," prayed Miss Sed- 
 ley. " Oh, please ! I forgive you. We 
 forgive you. Oh, do get up ! You will 
 make yourself ill ! " And then it became 
 evident that they had something more on 
 their hands than they could manage. The 
 thunder that had been growling in the sky 
 for some minutes burst in a sudden clap. 
 Miss Veronica reached for her smelling-salts ; 
 and Miss Sedley remembered and hastened 
 for something warm to drink ; and Celeste, 
 vainly trying to swallow her sobs and stay 
 her tears, toppled over white and stiff; and 
 Hark and Milly came and carried her up 
 stairs ; and Miss Sedley herself put her to bed 
 in the room in the wing with the southern 
 exposure and the gallery, and sent for Dr. 
 John. " I don t know but we have killed 
 her," she whispered over and over to Miss 
 Veronica. 
 
 "The fact is," said Dr. John on taking 
 leave, "that she is about used up, and 
 this was bound to come. She s the most 
 hard-working little thing in town. Every 
 morning up at the Capitol, into the Depart 
 ments, over at the White House, down 
 [22] 
 
A THANKSGIVING BREAKFAST 
 
 to the printing-offices, every afternoon at 
 the receptions, and every night reporting 
 a dinner or a ball, and hunting out new 
 facts to write about between whiles." 
 
 " Oh, my goodness, doctor ! What for ? " 
 " For the news of the world. And she 
 has a high standard for the honor of her 
 profession, and will run all over town to 
 verify an item, about a ribbon, maybe. I 
 told her she would break down the last time 
 she had one of these attacks. It would wear 
 out a man of brass, to say nothing of a little 
 Southern girl brought up on eider-down. 
 And just now she seems to have had a 
 shock. How in the world came she here ? " 
 And he looked about him quizzically. 
 
 " Oh, she has ! She has had a shock ! " 
 cried Miss Sedley. " And it s our fault ! 
 I don t know but we have killed her. You 
 must, you must bring her round, doctor. 
 Your father could, and you can," -with 
 the implicit confidence that every one had 
 in Dr. John as the dispenser of life and 
 death " and we will spare no pains." And 
 the two poor ladies forgot all about the sin 
 of the sufferer, forgot the heat and their 
 [23] 
 
OLD WASHINGTON 
 
 delicate old toilettes, and bathed the girl, 
 and rubbed her, and fed her, and watched 
 over her day and night. 
 
 "It is quite worth the effort," said Miss 
 Sedley, coming down into the drawing-room, 
 where, after three or four days of anxiety, 
 Miss Veronica was drawing a free breath. 
 " The beautiful young creature so finely 
 bred ! How she came to be working like 
 she does that sort of work- I reckon 
 she has n t any mother. You can see she s 
 a lady to the tips of her fingers. You can 
 see it," said Miss Sedley in a whisper, " by 
 her underclothes." 
 
 " How pretty she is, lying there so white 
 in all the heat! Oh, how I should like a 
 daughter like that " 
 
 " Veronica ! " 
 
 " I should ! Indeed, indeedy ! But, 
 there " 
 
 " The indelicacy ! " 
 
 " I don t care anything about the in 
 delicacy," said Miss Veronica, recklessly. 
 "I should have liked the daughter. I 
 would have taken better care of her, too, 
 I reckon " 
 
 MM] 
 
A THANKSGIVING BREAKFAST 
 
 " She told me she was in the Treasury 
 once, sister." Veronica deserved some re 
 proof, and should have the undiluted fact. 
 " In the Treasury." 
 
 " Sedley ! " 
 
 " And she seemed to think it a misfortune 
 to have lost the place." 
 
 " Oh ! " shuddered Miss Veronica. " Do 
 not let us think of it any more." And she 
 went out to the pantry and poured a little 
 rose-water into the palms of her hands, as if 
 she were cleansing herself, and Celeste too, 
 of a stain. Then they took up their great 
 feather fans again with fresh enjoyment, for 
 Celeste was resting sweetly upstairs, watched 
 by the young friend for whom she had begged 
 them to send, saying Jinny had no engage 
 ment now, and would be glad to come and 
 relieve them. 
 
 "It is dreadful, my giving you such 
 trouble," Celeste had sighed. " And bring 
 ing two people in upon you ! It only 
 shows what saints and angels you are." 
 
 " Oh, we have grown so fond of you, my 
 child ! " 
 
 " Then you will call me Celeste. I sha n t 
 [25] 
 
OLD WASHINGTON 
 
 think you Ve forgiven me till you call me 
 Celeste." 
 
 " We have forgotten all about forgiving. 
 It was an accident, a misunderstanding. 
 You will forget it too, dear I mean 
 Celeste." 
 
 They had scarcely composed themselves 
 with their fans when there came a series of 
 imperious blows of the knocker, and they 
 heard the prancing of horses down at the 
 gate. 
 
 " Why does n t Hark hurry ? " exclaimed 
 Miss Sedley, with the consciousness that 
 such a summons should be answered at 
 once, and slipping down the hall herself. 
 " Hark, where s this you re at ? Don t you 
 hear the door ? " she cried. And then 
 Hark brought in the cards of the Russian 
 Minister and the inquiries of Madame the 
 Princess for Miss Dreer. And directly 
 afterward there came another boom of the 
 knocker, and there was a basket of flowers 
 from the White House. And the news of 
 Miss Dreer s sickness having spread, as news 
 spreads nowhere else with more rapidity, 
 cards from the British Embassy and from 
 [26] 
 
A THANKSGIVING BREAKFAST 
 
 the German, and the personal inquiry of 
 more than one of the South American Min 
 isters, and the cards of the Boynewaters, and 
 of Madame D Arco and Miss Campeador, 
 followed all the week with flowers and fruits 
 and wine from these just leaving for the 
 summer in Europe, and those for Newport 
 and the North. 
 
 " I feel like I had changed my identity," 
 said Miss Sedley. 
 
 " Because some foreign officials have left 
 cards on our guests ? " said Miss Veronica, 
 with dignity. 
 
 " We have been out of the world so long." 
 
 " We never were in it personally, except 
 by family tradition." 
 
 " I hope it won t keep Mrs. Entwisle 
 away." 
 
 " It seems absurd, when we hardly know 
 where next month s dinners are coming 
 from," replacing in its envelope the bill she 
 had just received. " We shall have to sell 
 the G Street house now ; this charge for the 
 betterment is more than it is worth. It is 
 perfectly infamous. But," with a helpless 
 sigh, " they have everything their own way. 
 [27] 
 
OLD WASHINGTON 
 
 There is only the place across the Avenue 
 left." 
 
 " Sister why could n t we keep Celeste 
 here ? She has to pay her board elsewhere, 
 she said something about a Mrs. Mc 
 Queen s and she may as well pay it to 
 us " 
 
 " Pay us board ! " said Miss Veronica. 
 
 " She would n t stay if she did n t, you 
 know. And that dear little creature that 
 is taking care of her I don t know why 
 I call her little ; she s taller than I 
 am, but she s a dear. She s so sweet 
 and bright. I really don t know which I 
 love the best. And that Miss Constantia 
 Gilroy, who " 
 
 " Looks just like a white lily. The Gil- 
 roys are one of the great families of- 
 
 " And that other engaging girl that comes 
 to see them, Raleigh Cumnor " 
 
 " She certainly is refinement and grace 
 itself. I wonder " 
 
 " And just see what a difference it makes 
 with us already ! When I heard them all 
 three laughing together this morning, oh, I 
 felt forty years younger ! " 
 [28] 
 
A THANKSGIVING BREAKFAST 
 
 " If we were only able to keep open 
 house 
 
 And then there was a rustle in the hall 
 where two pairs of slippered feet had been 
 creeping down the stairs. 
 
 " I heard you ! " cried Celeste, gayly. " I 
 heard you ! Oh, if you only would ! We 
 would be so well behaved " 
 
 " Celeste ! You here ? Oh, my dear, 
 is n t this imprudent ? That is right, Miss 
 Jinny, the pillows. There, dear, lie right 
 down," said the two ladies together, bustling 
 about one of the sofas. 
 
 "I feel so nicely," said Celeste, " I could n t 
 have the face to stay upstairs any more. 
 It s been an imposition anyway. And I 
 really think we must go home, unless you 
 were in earnest just now and would let us 
 stay that way. You know we could n t stay 
 and be a burden if we didn t do just as 
 we do down at Mrs. McQueen s. And it 
 would be the kindest, loveliest, and most 
 Christian act, giving homes to two home 
 less girls, which the most they could pay 
 would n t half pay for " 
 
 " Oh, sister," cried Miss Sedley, " it seems 
 [29] 
 
OLD A V ASHINGTON 
 
 too good to be true to keep these dear 
 things all the time ! You will say Yes ? " 
 
 " Sedley, if you will promise not to shed 
 a tear. We can t have Celeste excited one 
 atom. Yes, you shall send for your trunks, 
 my dears. And if you like the home 
 it shall be yours while it is ours." And 
 Celeste, who could not be excited, tottered 
 up from the sofa and fell upon their necks, 
 with an arm round each, in a passion of 
 tears and kisses. 
 
 " To think of having a home ! " she cried. 
 " And such a home ! And with you ! Oh, 
 Jinny, does n t it seem as if we had gone to 
 heaven ! And, oh, it is really really too 
 hot for heroics ! " 
 
 It was several days after Jinny had 
 brought up and disposed their worldly 
 belongings, and a feeling of peace and 
 bliss, a sense of youth and cheer, had set 
 tled over the household, that Miss Sedley 
 brought to Celeste s sofa a number of 
 the cards that had been left during her 
 illness. They had been sitting in the 
 moonlight, while the night fragrances of 
 the garden rolled in softly all about them, 
 [30] 
 
A THANKSGIVING BREAKFAST 
 
 and the candles had been but a little while 
 lighted. 
 
 " Senor and Madame Castilla, : read 
 Celeste. " Yes. I Ve been a very good 
 friend of theirs. And they know it." 
 
 " You ! " said Miss Veronica, as if she 
 had heard the mouse boast in relation to 
 the lion. 
 
 " Oh, yes. You know, I have written a 
 good deal about both of them. In Europe 
 the censorship of the press gives importance 
 to every item ; and if anything really is in 
 the paper they feel there that it means some 
 thing. And so all I have said about them 
 they cut out every scrap and sent it 
 home counted for more than it was worth. 
 And when they were going away you 
 know they were promoted to another mis 
 sion, and he was made a Grand Panjandrum 
 or something she sent for me and told me 
 all this, and gave me that," and she held out 
 her hand with its ring of sapphires and 
 diamonds. 
 
 "It it seems impossible," murmured 
 Miss Sedley, under her breath. 
 
 " But, my love," said Miss Veronica, 
 [31] 
 
OLD WASHINGTON 
 
 " because they like flattery, it does n t make 
 the business the dealing in personality 
 any less reprehensible." 
 
 " Sister ! " 
 
 " Well, dear, perhaps not," said Celeste, 
 " when you show me that it is reprehensible. 
 People want it, at any rate ; and people 
 will have what they want ; and if I don t 
 give it to them another will." 
 
 " You might say that of any disgraceful 
 business." 
 
 " But it is n t disgraceful," said Celeste, 
 coaxingly. " You need a great deal of en 
 lightenment. I describe the inside of a 
 beautiful home ; it shows them far in the 
 wilderness how to have a beautiful home. 
 I describe a fine lady ; women all over the 
 country can be fine ladies on that model. 
 I tell the social happenings ; and I don t 
 know that they are not as much to the 
 purpose really as the political happenings. 
 I m sure they re a great deal pleasanter. 
 Just look at this place before they had tele 
 graphs and reporters and correspondents and 
 interviewers " 
 
 " Oh, yes, how perfect, how lovely it was ! " 
 [32] 
 
A THANKSGIVING BREAKFAST 
 
 " You dear little innocent angels ! Well, 
 we let a flood of light in. And men can t 
 do now as they did then without being 
 found out, you know. Oh, yes, and here are 
 the Russian Embassy cards again. How 
 good it was to send their carriage for us to 
 take the air ! " 
 
 " It made me feel like an adventuress, 
 driving out in state with imperial arms on 
 the carriage door," said Miss Veronica. 
 
 "I don t know," said Miss Sedley. "I 
 reckon I enjoyed it. Although I was a little 
 afraid of the men servants. 
 
 " Well, you saw what a splendid city they 
 are making of it " 
 
 "At our expense." 
 
 "And there never was a sweeter sight 
 in that carriage," said Miss Jinny, "than 
 your two dear aristocratic faces." 
 
 " Oh, but the Princess herself is beautiful," 
 said Celeste. "I wish you had seen her 
 leaving her box, with her velvet and ermine 
 cloak falling about her, and the long thick 
 braid of her fair hair down one side to her 
 knee. A daughter of the gods, divinely 
 tall, and most divinely fair." Don t you 
 
OLD WASHINGTON 
 
 remember, Jinny dear? It was the night 
 you made your hit in Cinderella After 
 wards, and the house came down, and you 
 thought they were applauding the beauti 
 ful Princess, and that made them go wild 
 with applauding you again, and all the 
 diplomats and the little attaches stood up 
 and shouted, and the stage was half cov 
 ered with flowers for you " 
 
 " The stage ! " exclaimed two startled 
 voices. 
 
 " Why, yes ; the stage of the National, 
 where she had her last engagement. And 
 she had the offer of an engagement from a 
 New York manager the very next day but 
 one, and she refused it, the little goose, so 
 that she might stay on at the National till 
 it closed, and be with me at Mrs. McQueen s 
 and get her things ready to marry Jerome, 
 when, if she d kept on, she might be one of 
 the great actresses " 
 
 " An actress ! " 
 
 " She s a very good one as it is. Oh, she 
 can make you laugh, and she can make you 
 cry, and her dancing is " 
 
 " A dancer ! " 
 
A THANKSGIVING BREAKFAST 
 
 Miss Veronica was as white as death. 
 Miss Sedley was secretly, but involuntarily, 
 crossing herself. 
 
 " Oh, that I should live to see the day ! " 
 one murmured. 
 
 " Merciful Mother ! " moaned the other. 
 
 " Miss Veronica ! Dear Miss Sedley ! 
 What is it ? " cried the girls, springing 
 toward them. "What is the matter?" 
 
 " Oh ! " Miss Sedley was whispering. " I 
 must see Father Walter." 
 
 But Miss Veronica waved them off, gath 
 ering her skirts away. " In our house ! " 
 she exclaimed. " In our mother s drawing- 
 room ! The pollution of it ! " 
 
 "What, what, Miss Sidney!" 
 
 " An actress ! " and Miss Veronica s tones 
 were unmistakable. 
 
 "Oh!" And both the girls fell back. 
 But in a moment Celeste had thrown her 
 arms round Jinny, who had begun to cry. 
 
 " Did n t you know she was an actress ? " 
 she exclaimed to the two horrified ladies. 
 " I thought every one knew it. And what 
 of it ? Most of the people here would think 
 it an honor to have her in their houses. An 
 [35] 
 
OLD WASHINGTON 
 
 actress, indeed ! Virginia Cantrell is just as 
 good as I am, and a great deal better, for 
 she is a genius, too, and she is the soul of 
 honor and uprightness. She is just as good 
 as you are ! She is better ! " cried the infu 
 riated Celeste. " For she does n t keep out 
 of the way of the world for fear of being 
 contaminated, but she is in the world, doing 
 her duty with the talent God gave her, and 
 not contaminated by it. And you had bet 
 ter ask Father White about her, and he 11 
 tell you she s as true a Catholic as you are. 
 You run right upstairs and pack your trunk, 
 Jinny, and 1 11 pack mine. I would n t stay 
 another night in this house for money ! I 
 thought it was too good to be true our 
 having such a pleasant home," and here 
 Celeste began to cry, " with two angels 
 narrow-minded angels but angels all the 
 same. Live creatures sweeping by on the 
 current could n t live with barnacles - 
 
 Was Jinny acting ? It crossed Miss Ve 
 ronica s mind that here was more desecra 
 tion of the drawing-room with its portraits 
 and spider-legged tables and jars of pot 
 pourri packed by dear fingers a half-hundred 
 [36] 
 
A THANKSGIVING BREAKFAST 
 
 years ago and more. And then she felt as 
 if her heart were a millstone that would sink 
 her into a bottomless pit. She instinctively 
 put her hand in her reticule for the compan 
 ionship of her little rosary. 
 
 For Jinny had left Celeste, and was 
 approaching her with outstretched arms. 
 " Miss Sidney," she said, " you re not going 
 to send me away for that ? You dont think 
 there is any harm in me? You can t tell 
 what it has been to me to think I had this 
 resting-place. I should have played so much 
 better if I had always had such a support 
 behind me. And, indeed, I can t think what 
 you mean. I never did anything you need 
 be ashamed of if you were my own mother." 
 
 The candles only made darkness visible 
 in the long room round the little spot 
 near Celeste. But the moonlight streamed 
 through the window and bathed the girl in 
 a white glow so tender, so appealing, so 
 innocent - No, no, only a play actress ! 
 Miss Veronica lifted her open hand as if 
 warding off a great terror or a bitter draught, 
 and turned her head aside. "It is very 
 late," she said hoarsely. " We will not talk 
 [37] 
 
OLD WASHINGTON 
 
 any more. Please go to bed." And as she 
 stood up there was an air of gentle authority 
 about her that was not to be disobeyed. 
 
 " Oh ! " cried Celeste, as she hurried by 
 her, following Jinny. " I Ve no doubt you 
 will go to heaven, you are so good. But 
 how surprised you will be when you get 
 there to find Jinny nearer to God than 
 you are ! " 
 
 Miss Veronica put out the candles, and 
 looked round for her sister. But Miss 
 Sedley had gone too. She sank into the 
 arm-chair by the hearth that Celeste had 
 filled with ferns from Kalorama, forgetting 
 to close the windows through which the 
 summer night breeze still rolled heavy with 
 perfumes into the moonlighted place. She 
 was entirely bewildered, weak and faint with 
 her mental confusion. She did not know 
 whether she had suffered a degradation, her 
 mother s parlor a desecration, or whether 
 she must reverse the opinions, the prejudices 
 of a lifetime. Why had all this oversetting 
 come to her ? Why had she been suffered 
 to grow fond of this young actress the 
 word made her shiver ; why had it not been 
 [38] 
 
A THANKSGIVING BREAKFAST 
 
 that Miss Gilroy, who looked as if she were 
 carved out of a pearl, who had come more 
 than once to inquire for Celeste, or that 
 pretty Raleigh Cumnor, Celeste s other 
 friend, who ran in every day and made the 
 house gay with laughter ? She had a warm 
 feeling for that child the moment she saw 
 her old General Cumnor s daughter they 
 called her. There had been a time when 
 Tom Cumnor However, all that was in 
 the golden age. And these were dark days. 
 She was cold in all the warm night, filled 
 with a sort of vague horror of she knew not 
 what. Perhaps she fell asleep ; she did not 
 know ; but certainly the broad moonbeam 
 had come round and fallen full upon her 
 mother s portrait, lighting the wistful eyes 
 and the sweet mouth there ; had slowly 
 shifted and lain across the picture in the 
 panel and silvered it with a glory an old 
 print of the Shepherd with the stray lamb 
 in His arms, and with the gaze of unspeak 
 able tenderness in His eyes, the gaze bent 
 full on her and seeming to search her soul. 
 If she were in the body or out of it, Miss 
 Veronica could not have told, only for an 
 [39] 
 
OLD W ASHINGTON 
 
 instant her soul was bared to her own gaze. 
 And then the moonlight passed, and she 
 was shivering like one alone in a wide black 
 desert, and felt suddenly, with a sense of 
 infinite relief, the warmth of two young 
 arms about her neck, and heard Jinny say 
 ing : " Oh, you must n t be afraid of me. I 
 truly am not bad. Dear, I can t have you 
 sitting up down here alone. Don t you fret 
 -I am going away of my own accord. 
 Poor Miss Veronica, you must go to bed 
 or you 11 be ill." And she had reached 
 up her arms and drawn the girl down into 
 her lap and hidden her old face in her 
 breast. 
 
 And directly afterward there was a swish 
 of drapery and patter of feet on the matting. 
 " Oh, sister ! sister ! " sobbed Miss Sedley. 
 " You know the world moves, and we must 
 move with it. And our mother used to say 
 we were n t here to judge but to help. And 
 if we love our Lord, we must do the work 
 of our Lord. And Celeste feels so badly 
 that she spoke so ! And if they re not good, 
 we must make them good. And they are 
 oh, they re every whit as good as as any 
 [40] 
 
A THANKSGIVING BREAKFAST 
 
 one ! " Just then the mocking-birds hang 
 ing in their cages outside the windows of 
 the next street suddenly burst into their 
 wild night-song ; and with their arms round 
 one another the four happy people had a 
 beautiful time crying together. 
 
 The air next morning was like air puri 
 fied by a thunder-storm passing through it. 
 When Raleigh Cumnor stopped to ask if 
 Celeste had a letter for her to post, Miss 
 Veronica s prepossessions gave their last 
 flicker. 
 
 " It s too bad to be bound to a desk in 
 the Treasury when you would like to be 
 flying down the Potomac on the Arrow," 
 said Raleigh. 
 
 " Tom Cumnor s daughter in the Treas 
 ury ! " exclaimed Miss Veronica. 
 
 " And mighty glad to be there," said 
 Raleigh. " At least in general, you know. 
 Just for this moment, perhaps, I would 
 prefer being a bird out in the Rock Creek 
 woods, or a young colt rolling on the flowers 
 of the high-field up where we used to live 
 in the Virginia hills." 
 
 " I wish you would take me down to the 
 [41] 
 
OLD WASHINGTON 
 
 Treasury some day, Raleigh," said Miss 
 Veronica, meekly. " I should like to see 
 
 " Oh, come now ! " cried Raleigh, " before 
 it is any warmer. I will show you all over 
 it the beautiful cash-room and the great 
 vaults full of gold. And you shall see them 
 printing new greenbacks upstairs and count 
 ing old ones downstairs enough to make 
 you despise money, though I don t know 
 how you could despise it any more than 
 you do." 
 
 " I Ve had such a delightful morning," 
 said Miss Veronica, when she came home, 
 and Jinny had taken her bonnet and para 
 sol, and she sat sipping the iced buttermilk 
 that Celeste brought her, while Miss Sed- 
 ley had her clabber and cream. "And it 
 seems to me as if the Treasury were fairly 
 peopled with ghosts. I Ve seen the sisters 
 and wives and widows and daughters of 
 half the people we used to know in the 
 old days, that had dropped out of the great 
 world " 
 
 "Into the greater world," said Celeste. 
 
 " Why, it s our Faubourg St. Germain ! 
 And, Sedley, you must go down yourself. 
 [42] 
 
A THANKSGIVING BREAKFAST 
 
 We really must make a business of acquaint 
 ing ourselves with affairs - 
 
 " I don t know how Father Walter " 
 
 "No one would like it better than that 
 noble, comforting spirit. I feel as if we 
 had been asleep while things were grow 
 ing. You Ve no idea what a country 
 it is ! I am going to the Patent Office 
 to-morrow, and then Who is that ? " 
 For a young man was mounting the terrace 
 two steps at a time. 
 
 " I must break it to you gently," said 
 Celeste, laughing, but catching her disen 
 gaged hand, with its little thready rings. 
 " It is Jinny s Jerome. And he is a New- 
 Englander ! " 
 
 But Miss Veronica rose to the occasion. 
 "I suppose he is also an American," she 
 said. 
 
 " He is a scientific man. And he has 
 discovered a germ." 
 
 " Perhaps it was n t his fault," said Miss 
 Veronica. 
 
 " I hope it is n t unfeminine," said Miss 
 Sedley to her sister one night some weeks 
 afterward, when Celeste had gone upstairs 
 [43] 
 
OLD WASHINGTON 
 
 to finish her Graphic letter, and Jinny had 
 gone down to the gate with her lover, " but 
 I must say it is pleasant to have a man 
 going and coming about the house. It 
 it makes you feel as if you were alive, and 
 not shut off from the world. It makes you 
 feel as if you belonged to the race. It really 
 makes you feel as if, after all, you weren t 
 set away on a shelf to mould. It s natural 
 to have a man about the house. We ve 
 been living an unnatural life." 
 
 " I don t know how we could have helped 
 it," said Miss Veronica. 
 
 " Well, it can t last long," said Miss Sed- 
 ley, pensively. " He 11 take her away pres 
 ently. But there s this about it : he 11 be 
 coming back to attend to that bill of his 
 in the winter. It s a serious matter with 
 him, Celeste says, to carry that bill." 
 
 " Then he must carry it," said Miss Ver 
 onica. " Let me see," she said, after a 
 pause in which she was lost in thought, 
 " is n t there a senator by the name of 
 Sumner ? I thought there was. He was 
 very wrong on the slavery question, was n t 
 he ? Well, bygones are bygones. And he 
 [44] 
 
A THANKSGIVING BREAKFAST 
 
 is interested in old prints and medals, some 
 one said. And " - here she lowered her 
 voice " is n t is n t is n t Butler in the 
 House do you say ? I shall go to see 
 him. Oh, yes, oh, yes, I shall. I shall pre 
 sent the case. He must be a power. And 
 let me see," she said again, with her 
 finger on her lips, "who are our own 
 senators ? " 
 
 " We have n t any, you know," said Miss 
 Sedley, bitterly. "They are all what is 
 it they call them ? carpet-baggers." 
 
 " Very well. Carpet-baggers will want 
 the countenance of the old gentility. I shall 
 see them all." And although her heart was 
 shaking and her voice was trembling, the 
 gentle old lady, who had never yet dared 
 stop a street car by herself, was already 
 lobbying Jerome s bill through Congress 
 for all she was worth. 
 
 Miss Sedley glanced at the portraits on 
 the wall with an air of apprehension. But 
 the personage in knee-breeches and a pow 
 dered wig, with the sword at his side, the 
 roll of parchment in his hand, and the red 
 curtain and the thunder-storm behind him, 
 [45] 
 
OLD WASHINGTON 
 
 continued looking over her head in sublime 
 unconcern ; and as for the wax medallions 
 in their tarnished frames, the lady there in 
 low relief, with a high comb and an eye 
 askew, and the gentleman with a stiff stock 
 and a bang, went on gazing at each other 
 with stolid indifference to the affairs of a 
 lesser world than theirs. But the glance 
 somehow reassured Miss Sedley. Whatever 
 new scenes shifted across the view, the 
 globe still moved on the same axis. 
 
 It was in the mild and beautiful Novem 
 ber weather, when all the blue river dis 
 tances were swathed with sun-gilded hazes, 
 the late roses were still blooming, and the 
 bland Indian summer was sweeter than ever 
 real summer was, that Miss Veronica sat at 
 the head of her table, one morning, ready 
 to carve a Potomac swan. " My dears," 
 she said to the bride and groom on her 
 either hand when, after a nuptial mass, 
 they had come home to a Thanksgiving 
 breakfast, before leaving for Jerome s home 
 in Hillburn, while Celeste, and Raleigh, that 
 lovely Connie Gilroy and Miss Sedley as 
 sisted, the latter resplendent in an adapta- 
 [46] 
 
A THANKSGIVING BREAKFAST 
 
 tion of the Aaron Burr brocade which Jinny 
 had made without injuring it "my dears, 
 it is not especially a festival of our Church, 
 and it is not a festival of our part of the 
 country, at least it used not to be I don t 
 know that we ever kept the day before, 
 Sedley ? But I feel as if I could not suffi 
 ciently honor it and express my thanks 
 to-day for the goodness which, against our 
 will, has taken us out of the clefts of the 
 rock and into the living currents by over 
 turning our prejudices and enlightening our 
 ignorance." 
 
 " You mean by giving us all these young 
 people, sister," regardless of the spot made 
 by every falling tear. 
 
 " Yes, these poor young people who never 
 can know any such pleasure as ours, unless 
 when they shall be old and sad and lonely 
 and- 
 
 "And tired to death of life as it was, 
 sister." 
 
 "They shall have young blood poured 
 into their veins as we have had, young eyes 
 given them to see the world, young voices 
 to put them in tune with it " 
 [47] 
 
OLD WASHINGTON 
 
 " And young hearts to make them love 
 it ! " cried Celeste. 
 
 And as they all fell on Miss Veronica 
 and Miss Sedley in turn, the latter, strug 
 gling and blushing and rearranging herself, 
 exclaimed : " It s a sort of new mission 
 field, is n t it ? The mission of Youth to 
 Age. But, oh, Veronica!" she said, "don t 
 you remember Bettie Brierley, who declared 
 there were four men she would never marry 
 a preacher, or a Protestant, or a French 
 man, or a widower ? " 
 
 "And she is the third wife of a French 
 Protestant preacher," said Miss Veronica, 
 examining her carving-knife. " I dare say 
 she knows a good deal more now than she 
 did then. I suppose you mean how scan 
 dalized we should have been a year ago at 
 this Thanksgiving Breakfast." 
 
 [48] 
 
II 
 
 A Guardian Angel 
 
A Guardian Angel 
 
 BEFORE Mrs. McQueen s house - 
 of whose heat Miss Celeste Dreer 
 had complained so bitterly to Miss 
 Veronica and Miss Sedley Sidney was im 
 proved off the face of Fifteenth Street it had 
 an extension in the rear, into the long low 
 upper room of which opened a door on the 
 landing half-way up the front stairs. And 
 although the main house was filled with her 
 boarders, in this extension Mrs. McQueen 
 had her own rooms and a few lodgers who 
 preferred to board themselves, these for rea 
 sons of economy, those because Welcker s or 
 Willard s offered them superior attraction. 
 And there, part of the room curtained away 
 for a bed, lodged Mrs. Gilroy and her daugh 
 ter Connie, the most conspicuous article of 
 their very poor furnishing a great gilded 
 harp, which afforded a singular contrast to 
 the dingy carpet, the calico lounge, the bare 
 walls. 
 
 [51] 
 
OLD WASHINGTON 
 
 The Gilroys had come up from the South. 
 But as they never said anything concerning 
 themselves, for a time no one immediately 
 about them knew if the war had ruined their 
 fortunes, or if they had never had any for 
 tunes. It was remembered that the daugh 
 ter had once been at school at the convent 
 over in Georgetown, and that Sister Blan- 
 dine had taught her music ; and that was all. 
 They had no influence, no friends, almost 
 no acquaintances. The daughter, with some 
 slight thrill of the instinct of the new gener 
 ation, had gone to the Representatives of 
 her State and had asked them to procure her 
 a situation under government ; and possibly 
 moved by her wonderful white beauty, they 
 had found her a place in the Printing Bureau, 
 at forty-five dollars a month. She had not 
 far to walk to her work, which at that time 
 had its hot and close quarters directly under 
 the roof of the Treasury Building; and 
 wrapped in a great apron, she did without a 
 sign of discomposure what once she would 
 hardly have asked of her slaves. 
 
 That she had had slaves, Tolly, after her 
 own appearance on the scene, took care that 
 [52] 
 
A GUARDIAN ANGEL 
 
 every one should know. " She ain neber 
 lif her han ter her head," said Tolly once to 
 the messenger in the office, " wid a t ousan 
 niggers ter say do dis an dey done do it. 
 Yere, now, honey," opening the little lunch 
 eon she had brought up from her own 
 kitchen, "yo ma say yo pick eb ry bone. 
 He was crowin w en de ball done fall, dat ar 
 birhed was. She say she ain no way satisfy 
 in regards to yo appletite to eat, Miss 
 Connie." 
 
 But if Tolly was communicative, Miss 
 Connie was very silent, making no conversa 
 tion, prosecuting no acquaintance. It was 
 generally supposed that her silence was an 
 expression of proud unwillingness, and of 
 course it did not render her popular in the 
 office. 
 
 But there was a good deal of concern in 
 the house regarding their poor affairs ; for it 
 was evident that they had no money, and 
 equally evident that their monthly income 
 could do no more than pay the rent of their 
 room and give them the simplest food. 
 That was the reason that to more than one 
 person in the house besides Mrs. McQueen 
 [53] 
 
OLD WASHINGTON 
 
 herself, whose tender heart was sore for them, 
 the flapping sound that came every night at 
 about ten o clock brought something like a 
 startled pang of foreboding. It was Mrs. 
 Gilroy shaking Miss Connie s skirt again 
 and once again out of the window. Care 
 fully then she went over it, picking off every 
 bit of lint, and brushing it daintily as if it 
 were a fairy cobweb. For how in the world, 
 when that was gone, would they ever be 
 able to have another ? And every one who 
 heard the sound knew that was the mother s 
 thought ; and although several would have 
 been glad to slip the price of a new gown 
 under the door on the landing, yet every one 
 felt it would be inflicting a wound. Indeed, 
 as well offer charity to a princess of the 
 blood as to this cold and unapproachably 
 sweet Miss Constantia Gilroy and her lan 
 guid mother a dark and slender little wo 
 man, who was only unquenchable spirit and 
 various ganglions of nerves. 
 
 Once in a while some of the ladies in the 
 house stepped into Mrs. Gilroy s room for a 
 half-hour s chat in the early evening ; some 
 times dear little Mrs. McQueen herself ; ad- 
 [54] 
 
A GUARDIAN ANGEL 
 
 mitted perhaps by Tolly, who was usually 
 to be found there then Mrs. Gilroy s old 
 Tolly on whom she had stumbled in the 
 street. " Dess es grad ter see me es ef de 
 Lawd hed fotch me wid a string an so he 
 did, I spec I reckon. Ain had de misery 
 in my breas since," said Tolly. " Own 
 folkses de bes kin er med cine, sho miff." 
 Very rarely indeed Mrs. Gilroy and her 
 daughter returned the call. But no one 
 went too often. Even Miss Celeste Dreer, 
 who at first thought to exploit them for 
 copy, felt their condition too keenly to pro 
 fane it. Tolly, to be sure, came up from 
 her shanty every evening, not able to ex 
 press sufficiently her contentment at having 
 found her former mistress and the child, 
 whose mammy she had been. The breath 
 of liberty was sweet in Tolly s nostrils ; she 
 had a huge regard for her Cassio as a free 
 man, who owned his own mule and tip- 
 cart ; even her son, Aby, seemed to her a 
 superior being, having been born free. They 
 were a part of herself. But if to her un 
 spoken fancy Miss Jule had not immortal 
 ichor in her veins, yet she belonged to 
 [55] 
 
OLD WASHINGTON 
 
 a region somewhere between heaven and 
 earth, and it was Tolly s pride and joy that 
 she was allowed to love her. Moreover, 
 Tolly found washing to do for some of the 
 boarders, and many a good bite, besides, 
 from Mrs. McQueen s table. 
 
 But the Gilroys slipped in and out of the 
 house so silently that it seemed as if their 
 concern were only to efface themselves ; as 
 if they would not obtrude upon the recollec 
 tion of fate, lest they should be dealt fresh 
 blows. Only sometimes, late in the even 
 ing, out of the long low room the tones of 
 the harp throbbed full and golden, till one 
 felt as if great wings were sweeping through 
 the house. 
 
 At least that is what Jack Knowles felt. 
 And from the first time he heard it, he could 
 never quite dissever his thought of Connie 
 Gilroy and of some white and lofty princess 
 of a time of fabled story. Poor Connie - 
 tall and fair and stately as ever any princess 
 was, and innocent past belief ; for never any 
 one lived, except Connie s mother, more 
 ignorant of the world of men and the world 
 of books, and, alas ! of almost everything 
 [56] 
 
A GUARDIAN ANGEL 
 
 else. Poor Connie s mother, too, in whose 
 mind there were but four distinct ideas 
 that she was a rebel ; that to be in society 
 was to be blessed ; that Connie was a 
 beauty ; that they might lose the office - 
 was as much a child as her daughter, and 
 timid as if the world were a den of lions. 
 
 Helene and Agnes Boynewater had just 
 come over to meet their father, the Gen 
 eral, who had, as it chanced, all the first 
 floor of the house and part of the second, 
 and they remembered, as soon as they saw 
 her, that they had been at school with 
 Connie at the Sacred Heart ; and they 
 tapped at the door one night, as they 
 heard the harp playing, and made a call, 
 that began with stateliness and ended with 
 a little - - a very little - - good-fellowship. 
 They made two or three calls before any 
 were returned. 
 
 " It s too bad, Helene," said Agnes, one 
 night, as she slipped on her new gown. 
 " Connie would be such a beauty in a dress 
 like this. She would like it so ! And we 
 could take her as well as not Mrs. Brown- 
 low is so good-natured. It would be better 
 [57] 
 
OLD WASHINGTON 
 
 than a play to see her ; it really would. And 
 it would be so nice to give her a glimpse of 
 the world." 
 
 " To give the world a glimpse of her." 
 
 " I suppose she could have a gown well 
 enough. There s my white crepe and that 
 box of blue forget-me-nots, and we could 
 have that Miss Dreer report her dress - 
 
 " I don t believe it would do. You see, 
 she couldn t go on with it." 
 
 " It would be a great lark." 
 
 " Well, anyway, the hair-dresser has 
 gone." 
 
 " So she has," said Agnes, ruefully, sur 
 veying now in the glass the towering mass 
 of her own curls. " Well, we will run in 
 and ask them if we look all right." 
 
 " Oh, no ; it would hurt them." 
 
 "Hurt them! That s all you know of 
 human nature, Helene Boynewater ! " 
 
 And although the General s voice rose in 
 intermittent peals of thunder, they ran in, 
 while the carriage waited, their fans in their 
 hands and their cloaks on their arms, for 
 Mrs. Gilroy to tell them whether, if Helene 
 wore the pearls that had been their mother s, 
 [58] 
 
A GUARDIAN ANGEL 
 
 Agnes might not wear the little diamond 
 clasps. 
 
 " Young ladies used n t to wear diamonds 
 in my day," said Mrs. Gilroy, her fingers 
 twinkling rapturously in and out of the 
 bows and puffs, quite in her element, and 
 feeling as if she were going into society 
 herself. " But I just don t know what 
 they do now, honey." 
 
 " Well, I won t wear the pearls, either," 
 said Helene, as she undid them and tossed 
 the shining string on the lounge. 
 
 " Oh, but pearls are mighty different ! 
 Indeed, indeedy ! " said Mrs. Gilroy. 
 
 " They may stay there, may n t they, Mrs. 
 Gilroy, till I come for them ? " she asked. 
 
 " Yes, m am, of course. And you 11 be the 
 belles of the ball, with them or without them ! 
 Two such sweet girls ! We shall read about 
 you in the Star to-morrow." 
 
 And then the gay visions of snowy tulle 
 and long bright ribbon-grasses were flashing 
 down the rest of the stairway, and the pleas 
 ant voices were piping, " Yes, yes, papa, here 
 we are ! " 
 
 And Mrs. Gilroy, staring after them a 
 [59] 
 
OLD WASHINGTON 
 
 moment, suddenly recovered herself, as if 
 she had been dropped from the sky, and 
 shot the bolt of the door, and turned to 
 Connie with an indescribable air of hope 
 lessness, holding out her arms, much as 
 the loved lady-in-waiting might to a young 
 queen deprived of her queendom. 
 
 " Ma, dear," said Connie, after the mo 
 ment in which she stood drooping her 
 lovely head over her mother s, " I don t 
 really mind." 
 
 Mrs. Gilroy s sigh was breathed from the 
 very source of tears. To be debarred by 
 poverty from their rights ! 
 
 " Oh, but I don t mind at all," said Connie. 
 " What does it signify, ma, dear, so long as 
 we have each other ? " 
 
 " Oh, I never thought," suddenly ex 
 claimed Mrs. Gilroy " when I went with 
 your pa to the first assembly, and the Gov 
 ernor opened the ball with me, and every 
 one said I was the very picture of a bride - 
 and he was on his way up here, and I was 
 right glad to come with him, and I stood 
 with the White House ladies in the receiv 
 ing-line I had a rose-pink taffeta and a 
 [60] 
 
A GUARDIAN ANGEL 
 
 string of pearls of my own," cried Mrs. 
 Gilroy, forgetting to cry for a moment. 
 " And an Admiral was your godpapa, and 
 so was his wife, and now every one is dead, 
 or gone I don t know where it is they re 
 at at all " with fresh tears. " I try I try 
 not to cry, but when I thought you 
 would be cared for like a drop of honey 
 in a flower 
 
 " I am, ma, dear, I am ! You re so good 
 to me every one is, and Tolly s such a 
 blessing 1 Just think of our luck in finding 
 Tolly, and having this place, and this room ! " 
 
 " Oh, my goodness ! Our luck ! In be 
 ing allowed to live ! " Then, Mrs. Gilroy s 
 thoughts flashing to another electric point, 
 66 And those dear girls ! " she cried, as she 
 wiped her eyes. " They did look powerful 
 pretty. But, oh, Connie, honey, gazing at 
 the tall fair girl and twisting the pearls in 
 her hand, " the old portrait in the west par 
 lor that is what you would be in pearls 
 and s white satin. My heart! When I 
 saw that white satin skirheet in the portrait 
 ripped up with Sherman s bayonets, I felt as 
 if it was my own gown " 
 [61] 
 
OLD WASHINGTON 
 
 And then Connie s harp rang out the 
 air of " The Young Chevalier," and Jack 
 Knowles, hearing it as he came down from 
 his upper room, could make up his mind to 
 follow the Boynewaters only because he had 
 no acquaintance with the Gilroys. 
 
 It was the next day, after office hours, 
 that, just as Connie in her blue wrapper 
 came from the bath, which always seemed 
 to her a necessary antidote to the atmos 
 phere of the day s work, Helene and Agnes 
 rapped again at the low door on the landing. 
 " We want to borrow you," they said to 
 Connie. And they rustled out of the room 
 with her before she could gainsay them, and 
 had her up in their own room, buried in a 
 big towel, with Mademoiselle Vide s fingers 
 twirling the pale thick strands and masses 
 of her hair, heaping curl over curl and 
 braid over braid. " There ! " said Helene, 
 as mademoiselle gathered her paraphernalia 
 and disappeared. " One must take Vide 
 when one can have her. She came in the 
 forenoon once, and we had to hold our 
 selves just so all day long. You dear won 
 dering dear, you re just too lovely for 
 [62] 
 
A GUARDIAN ANGEL 
 
 anything J An old French picture is n t a 
 circumstance to you. Now you won t 
 mind you re going out with us, and 
 you re going to wear this white crepe 
 
 " No, no, no ! " with frightened eyes. 
 
 " Yes, yes, yes ! It will never be known 
 there are such dozens of crepes. And 
 we Ve wreathed it with these great silk cac 
 tus flowers no one but a white thing like 
 you could wear the scarlet flames. And you 
 shall have the pearls " 
 
 " Oh, you don t understand. I can t ! " 
 
 " And we re all going to the President s 
 levee with papa. We thought you might 
 object to going to Mrs. Daingerfi eld s or 
 Mrs. Dusenbury s without a card, but the 
 President s house, you know, is your house, 
 and you Ve a right to go there." 
 
 " Oh ! " cried Connie, when she could be 
 heard. " It never would do in the world. 
 You don t see ! - - I m only a girl in the 
 Printing Bureau " 
 
 " You re our company to-night. And 
 I guess a girl in the Printing Bureau has 
 her rights as much as a girl in the White 
 House." 
 
OLD WASHINGTON 
 
 " But I don t belong - - I could n t keep it 
 up. Oh, you don t know how kind you are 
 - how I should like to go ! B ut it is n t to 
 be thought of!" 
 
 And then suddenly Helene and Agnes 
 rushed down for Mrs. Gilroy. 
 
 " Not go ? " cried Mrs. Gilroy, returning 
 with them, her thin face flushed and eager ; 
 " when you have the chance ? My good 
 ness ! why not ? " 
 
 "Oh, I m not fit, ma." 
 
 " Constantia Gilroy," said her mother, 
 solemnly, " when these people in power 
 were pore white trash your pa and 1 were 
 drivin in our own wag n up to the White 
 Sulphur, and livin in one of the cottages, 
 and drinkin the waters, and hearin the 
 band music, and dancin every night with 
 the firheest people in the South. Miss Ver 
 onica s and Miss Sedley Sidney s father s 
 cottage was next to it, they were single 
 ladies then, and I remember they used to 
 put me in mind of silk muslin flowers, but 
 I have n t had the heart to go near them, 
 though I know they live here somewhere, 
 and " 
 
 [64] 
 
A GUARDIAN ANGEL 
 
 " But, ma," said Connie, " that has noth 
 ing to do with it ! " 
 
 " Of course she will go, Miss Helene, and 
 be glad to go. And you are two dears. 
 Yes, it s a mighty heap like Cinderella and 
 two fairy godmothers ; and you 11 be home 
 from the levee before twelve o clock, any 
 way." 
 
 And then the girls ran down with her 
 and Connie, their arms full of the things 
 that Connie was to wear. And after their 
 spare dinner Mrs. Gilroy gave each article 
 of dress an inspection, half regretted that 
 Connie s complexion did not require the 
 offices of rouge and powder, and proceeded 
 to lace the girl up in the crepe gown, setting 
 a knee against her back and pulling might 
 and main. 
 
 "Mai" gasped Connie. "Ma! I can t 
 breathe ! " 
 
 "You ve just gotter breathe, honey. 
 There ! you 11 catch on presently. You Ve 
 grown right slack, wearin loose dresses so. 
 Here, Tolly, you help!" 
 
 " Laws ter gracious, Miss Jule ! " said 
 Tolly, standing off at last and surveying 
 5 [ 65 ] 
 
OLD WASHINGTON 
 
 their work. " Ef she ain de bery spit er de 
 portrait ob ole madame dat hang in de wes 
 parlor foh de wah ! " 
 
 " Oh, Connie Gilroy," cried her mother, 
 as she wound the pearls about her throat, 
 " what a beauty you are ! " 
 
 And the girl would not have been a girl, 
 with the great dazzling fearsome world lying . 
 out there before her, if she had not blushed 
 and laughed with joy and excitement, kiss 
 ing her mother, kissing Tolly, and crying to 
 Mrs. Gilroy, " Oh I wish you were going 
 too ! " 
 
 " Oh, I wish I was ! " And Mrs. Gilroy 
 and Tolly took turns at the crack of the 
 door, as the three glad young things plunged 
 down and joined the little General where 
 he was making the vestibule vocal. And 
 Helene cried : " Oh, Jack, is this you ? Our 
 cousin, Mr. Knowles, Miss Gilroy. You 11 
 have to go on the box, Jack 1 " And of 
 course that made no difference to Jack, who, 
 when he understood that he was in the com 
 pany of this heavenly creature, felt as if he 
 had wings on his own shoulders too. 
 
 As for Connie, she was in a trance. She 
 [66] 
 
A GUARDIAN ANGEL 
 
 had nothing to say to any one. Her wide- 
 open eyes were like great stars in the mid 
 night blue ; her cheeks were like soft sweet 
 rose leaves in the sun ; her mouth trembled 
 with smiles ; she could not have told were 
 she in the body or out of it when the 
 carriage drove tinder the porte cochere, and 
 she stepped down, and the lofty officials 
 slammed the door. Then the doughty 
 little General s broad back and stout elbows 
 made way through the surging mass of all 
 sorts and conditions, and Jack s towering 
 shoulders were equally effective in the rear ; 
 and as a bird might suddenly emerge from 
 crowded ways upon clear blue space, she 
 was defiling before the President and a line 
 of spangled ladies ; and the music of the 
 Marine Band blew out, and she was making 
 on Jack s arm the endless detour of a vast 
 room that seemed to her unaccustomed 
 eyes, with its draperies, its panels, its wilder 
 ness of mirrors, the splendor dripping from 
 its glittering chandeliers, like a dream of 
 kings palaces quite unaware that the 
 glances of the moving throng were centring 
 on her as the most beautiful thing there ; 
 [07] 
 
OLD WASHINGTON 
 
 quite unaware of the gloating eyes of Sena 
 tor Bortle big watery floating eyes like 
 robins eggs on a string ; equally unaware 
 of the little dark close-cropped attache who 
 had asked Jack to present him Jack, who 
 was a clerk in the State Department, and 
 knew most of the younger diplomats, and 
 held them in angry contempt, and had 
 refused the request ! 
 
 " Hancock is back, I hear," exclaimed 
 General Boynewater, when they crossed his 
 path, proudly taking Connie on his own 
 arm. " We are going over to Johnny s to 
 drink his health. How are you, Bentinck ? 
 Senator MacMichaeFs coming ? Meet you 
 later at the Ormonds , Jack." And in the 
 next breath Helene and Agnes were finding 
 the wraps, and they were walking across 
 Lafayette Square, leaving word for the 
 carriage to follow, and were in a room 
 where a dozen men, and some women so 
 wonderfully clad that Connie could hardly 
 believe she was in the world where she 
 breathed every day, were grouped about a 
 mighty gallant blue-eyed hero just back 
 from Indian-fighting, their hands aching 
 [681 
 
A GUARDIAN ANGEL 
 
 from his grasp, while they drank his health 
 in something that to Connie was like sun 
 shine and fire and sweetness and fragrance 
 all foaming together. And then the carriage 
 door had slammed again, and Connie, still 
 wordless, and almost breathless, was whirl 
 ing away to the Ormonds , the Boynewater 
 girls taking the responsibility, and as de 
 lighted with her delight as if they had made 
 this dazzling world of after-dark themselves. 
 Connie, who had heard of so little, had 
 heard of fairyland ; and she experienced a 
 filmy sensation that here it was, as she 
 caught the tones of flute and violin, and 
 bent her lofty head under the palms and 
 long banana leaves, saw the vine-clad stair 
 ways where shapes of loveliness ascended 
 and descended, the tall tripods on the land 
 ing overflowing with burning roses, slabs 
 bedded with violets, and mantels and door 
 ways streaming with ivies and scarlet pas 
 sion-flowers, the air meanwhile heavy with 
 the breath of unseen masses of heliotrope 
 and jasmine. She saw, without knowing 
 that she saw, the soft lustre of innumerable 
 wax-lights illumining the shimmer of silk 
 [69] 
 
OLD WASHINGTON 
 
 and lace, and the frosty splendor of dia 
 monds that seemed more alive than the 
 beautiful bosoms beneath them, the beauti 
 ful faces above them, pouring over the 
 glitter of uniforms and jewelled orders, over 
 the wild flowing of the dance beyond. 
 Then presently she found herself in the 
 front row of the german, two chairs having 
 already been tied together there by Jack. 
 She was taken out more frequently than, on 
 the whole, Jack liked, and danced like glad 
 wildfire, till she glanced up to meet the 
 bold bleary gaze of Senator Bortle, who 
 leaned against a doorway, unconscious of 
 the stain of Burgundy he wore. Then the 
 instinct of repulsion woke her from her 
 dream and made her only a living, breathing 
 statue, and ten times more beautiful to Jack 
 than she had been before. 
 
 It was when the champagne breakfast 
 was served the dancers on the floor that 
 Senator Bortle, having added materially to 
 the Burgundy stains, got himself presented 
 to her ; and, in spite of Jack, it was he who 
 put her into the carriage, when, just before 
 the dawn, they all rolled home, dishevelled 
 [70] 
 
A GUARDIAN ANGEL 
 
 as bacchantes, weary but joyous. And 
 Mrs. Gilroy opened her door, sleepy, but 
 joyous too, and kissed her finger-tips to the 
 Boynewaters, and drew Connie in, and 
 turned up the gas, and looked at her ecstati 
 cally. " Oh 1 d like to have Miss Veronica 
 Sidney see you now ! " she said. " Well, it s 
 no use going to sleep at this hour. Tolly 
 will make the coffee presently, and you shall 
 tell me all about it." And she sat like one 
 under a spell, as if it were she that had the 
 dress and the dance and the triumph and 
 the joy, while she listened, leaning forward 
 and holding her tired head in her hands. 
 
 Tolly sprang up with a bewildered start 
 from the lounge, where her massive propor 
 tions had been reposing in deep slumber. 
 " Clar ter goodness ! " she exclaimed, as she 
 looked at Connie walking up and down the 
 room in the still unquenched pleasure of her 
 story. " Den I ain dead an gone ter heben 
 foh sho ! Dess gwine ter say p intedly, I 
 don desarb it noways, Mars Gabriel : I done 
 stole Miss Jule s pink ribbin, w en I warn 
 dat ar high, toobysho ! an I seed twas 
 yo , honey. Yasser, sho s yo bawn, hi-yi ! " 
 [71] 
 
OLD WASHINGTON 
 
 " Tolly stayed because she knew I was 
 right down scared alone with all the dogs 
 barking " 
 
 " An dese yer conterban s all ober town 
 a-tryin ter git a man s libin out n his 
 mouf," said Tolly. " But dare ain no 
 more n time now, 1 spec I reckon, foh me 
 ter git my ole man s corn bread an bacon, 
 an Abram off ter his schule. Dare, honey, 
 yo neenter be s prised yo ole Tolly took 
 yo foh Gabriel yo looks lak a gret but 
 terfly wid his wings tore down. 1 s be 
 cropin up agin bime-by, Miss Jule." 
 
 " No, no, mammy dear," said Connie. 
 " There s some coffee left over. You run 
 along. And when our ship comes home 
 you shall have a silk gown, Tolly. Good-by 
 now. And, oh, ma," still going on with 
 her recital, " I was waltzing down the room 
 with an officer oh, not a young man, but 
 so gay, so kind, so pleasant, ma ! And 
 who do you reckon it was ? You d never 
 dream I 11 have to tell you General 
 Sherman ! " 
 
 " Sherman, Connie 1 Sherman ! " almost 
 shrieked Mrs. Gilroy, clapping her hand over 
 [72] 
 
A GUARDIAN ANGEL 
 
 her mouth. " Oh, Connie ! oh, what ever 
 made me let you go ? Oh ! oh ! we did 
 wrong ; we might have known " 
 
 "Ma, I just think you believe it was he 
 with his own bayonet " 
 
 " Stabbed the old portraits ! " 
 
 " Ma, dear, you re an unreconstructed 
 rebel ! " 
 
 " Oh, hush, Connie, hush ! If any one 
 heard you and we lost our place " 
 
 And tired out with pleasure and vica 
 rious pleasure, they both began to cry, and 
 fell asleep at last in each other s arms, still 
 crying, and only awoke to find that Connie 
 had not a moment to lose in tearing off her 
 finery and getting into her black alpaca and 
 hurrying to her work. 
 
 Mrs. Gilroy passed the day shaking and 
 brushing and wiping off the pretty gown, 
 pressing the crumpled ribbons, sewing up 
 here and there a rip, smoothing out the 
 silken petals of the cactus flowers, moist 
 ening them with a little quince- water, and 
 tying them into shape till dry ; while Tolly, 
 who came up after lunch to talk over the 
 report of victory, spent her energy with 
 [73] 
 
OLD WASHINGTON 
 
 bread crumbs on the gloves, till at nightfall 
 the toilet lay almost as fresh and resplendent 
 as it was when Connie put it on. 
 
 "Toh de Lawd, Miss Jule," said Tolly, 
 "we won be atter keepin honey fo long. 
 Ef her pa d done lib ter seen er las night 
 yo d a hatter whoop im, sho , de po chile ! 
 She look dess de way a rose wid de dew on 
 it is bleedzed ter look." 
 
 " Oh, Tolly," said Mrs. Gilroy, resting her 
 head on the kind and ample bosom, " what 
 a comfort you are ! " 
 
 " Deed, then, Miss Jule, ole miss uster 
 say t was all Toll was made fo . Dare, dare, 
 now, a tired lamb - 
 
 " Oh, the day you met up with me in the 
 street and followed me in here, Tolly, if 
 you d been an angel from heaven the sight 
 of you would n t have been half so good ! " 
 
 " Clar ter gracious ! " exclaimed Tolly, 
 chuckling with the notion. " Wen Tolly s 
 one ob dese yer angels, Miss Jule, t won be 
 a brack one. Mind how, w en her pa shot 
 de w ite herons, liT missy cry fo fear lie 
 done shoot de angels? Alwes was dess so 
 tender-hearted. See her now, I kin, wid 
 [74] 
 
A G u A RDIAN ANGEL 
 
 her tier full er de chick ns she tuk fum de 
 speckle hen, dat tromple an sot onter em 
 hebby all she cud do, she ses. It dess maks 
 me die er-laffin ter member de big rooster 
 dat was her pet, tappin ter de po ch slats fo 
 her ter be gwine out. Deed she was a 
 sweet lamb ! I was tellin on y dis yer mornin 
 ob de time she done stick de rain-lilies all 
 thoo her pooty har, so s ter hab it lookin 
 like dey wuz her brack mammy s teenty bar 
 becue braids. She dess t ought her mammy 
 was a holy show dem days, sho nuff." 
 And Tolly lingered with her beguiling remi 
 niscences till Connie opened the door at 
 length, almost too tired to speak, and her 
 old mammy put her to bed and rubbed the 
 life back into her. 
 
 " No," said Connie, the next day, " I will 
 take the things back now. I shall not go 
 any more. You see yourself, ma, it is n t 
 possible. Miss Helene and Miss Agnes can 
 sleep all day. I must be off at work. And 
 it is no use. I am one of the working peo 
 ple now. It was awfully pleasant but 
 well, I reckon I Ve seen it all, anyway." 
 And in spite of her mother s outcry that she 
 [75] 
 
O L D WASHINGTON 
 
 was throwing away her chances, that she was 
 set as Chickamauga Crag, that she was all 
 Gilroy, without a drop of Talliafero in her, 
 Connie took back the white crepe and the 
 gloves and the scarf and the cloak and the 
 flowers and all the rest. 
 
 " The dear dress ! " said her mother, lay 
 ing it over her arms and tossing back her 
 head quickly, that the falling tear might 
 not touch it. 
 
 "Oh, when you were going to be such 
 a success ! " cried Helene, as Connie sur 
 rendered the pretty armful. " And we had 
 such plans and invitations for you ! " 
 
 " I couldn t accept them, you know." 
 
 " And the Senator ! " said Agnes. 
 
 " Oh, he does n t signify ! " 
 
 " Papa would say that he signifies a great 
 deal ! " said Agnes. 
 
 " Miles and miles of lumber forests and 
 coal mines. And the combustion of car 
 bon signifies diamonds," said Helene. 
 
 And that night the Boynewaters came 
 
 up without cards and with the Senator. 
 
 And Mrs. Gilroy was in a mild alarm and 
 
 an amiable flutter, Tolly stepping behind 
 
 [76] 
 
A GUARDIAN ANGEL 
 
 the curtain ; but the ivory nymph that 
 leaned across her harp was not more cold 
 and irresponsive than Connie was. It made 
 no difference, however, to the Senator. 
 Archimedes could move the world if he 
 had a place whereon to stand, and the 
 Senator had found the place. 
 
 Things that had for so long been mov 
 ing with a stagnant flow for Connie Gil- 
 roy had suddenly begun to rush. She 
 had been detained about her work, and 
 having gone down the Avenue on an er 
 rand, was hurrying home in the dusk 
 when she became aware of a measured 
 step behind her, hastening when she did, 
 and overtaking her ; and she turned her 
 head at a word of salutation to find her 
 self addressed by the little dark and close- 
 cropped attache with whom she had no 
 acquaintance. Without a second glance 
 she quickened her steps, presently to some 
 thing like a run, as the fellow, endeavoring 
 to speak, kept beside her ; and reaching the 
 house at last, she flung herself into the 
 vestibule, only to be followed by him, her 
 shriek of excitement and panic perhaps 
 [77] 
 
OLD WASHINGTON 
 
 adding speed to the movement of Jack 
 Knowles, then just sallying forth. 
 
 It was Jack s moment. He burst through 
 the door ; saw the thing at a glance. " It 
 is n t the first time ! " he exclaimed, and he 
 caught the little attache by the collar and 
 tossed him out on the sidewalk, where he 
 pitched, staggering, across the bricks and 
 fell among the cobblestones of the gutter. 
 He was found there by the police shortly 
 after, and the newspapers next day came 
 near making an international incident of it, 
 - Miss Celeste Dreer s report of it in the 
 Graphic being remarkably good reading. 
 
 " Oh ! " cried Mrs. Gilroy, inspired by 
 that one of her ideas which troubled her 
 the most, as Jack, taking his chance in 
 both hands, came in with Connie, "you 
 are in the State Department he will 
 complain and you will lose your place." 
 
 "No, he won t," said Jack. "If he 
 opens his mouth he ll lose his own place, 
 and he knows it. Oh, I hope you are 
 better now ! " turning to the breathless 
 Connie. 
 
 Nothing could have been more oppor- 
 [78] 
 
A GUARDIAN ANGEL 
 
 tune for Mr. Jack. Of course he had to 
 ask in the morning how Miss Connie was, 
 and to send some roses before him, and 
 to come in the evening and beg to see for 
 himself. And of course Connie played and 
 sang to him till Senator Bortle tapped 
 at the door ; and then Mrs. Gilroy had to 
 tell him the story, and Connie had to grow 
 as still, as the Senator said to himself, as 
 frozen peach and snow. 
 
 Nevertheless the Senator came again, 
 and then he came again ; and he did not 
 know, and would not have cared if he had 
 known, that Connie dusted the room every 
 time he left it. The people in the house, 
 except the one or two who knew of Jack s 
 state of mind, felt as if all the Gilroy diffi 
 culties had come to an end ; for here was 
 there not a senator of the United States at 
 their command ? And was it for a moment 
 to be supposed that a penniless girl, with a 
 penniless mother, dependent on capricious 
 labor, would frown upon his suit ? 
 
 Jack supposed it, however ; but in the 
 face of odds. 
 
 "You had better put it behind you, 
 [79] 
 
OLD WASHINGTON 
 
 Jack," said General Boynewater. " For 
 you see yourself what are a clerk s chances 
 beside a senator s." 
 
 " Oh, hang a senator s ! " muttered Jack. 
 
 "You can t hang a senator s. Look 
 at it rationally, Jack. There s no one- 
 no one living, short of the Prime Minister 
 of England who is a senator s peer. He 
 is the representative in council of a sovereign 
 State. The State may be small, but it is 
 an independent power, and he is its accred 
 ited ambassador to the world. Here in 
 Washington he is practically omnipotent. 
 If he wants anything, he has every other 
 senator behind him. A senator s wife takes 
 precedence of the wife of the British Minister. 
 And if you don t know what that means to 
 the feminine heart, it s time you did ! " 
 
 " I deny your inference," said Jack. He 
 was sure that the heavenly simplicity of 
 Connie Gilroy s nature But he could 
 not utter the thought. To speak her name 
 at all was a sort of profanity. 
 
 " And then the man s a millionnaire." 
 
 And there Jack groaned. 
 
 " No, no," he said, in a moment, as the 
 [80] 
 
A GUARDIAN ANGEL 
 
 General gathered up the reins. " There is 
 nothing more sordid about her than there 
 is about a drop of dew." 
 
 " Glad you think so. So do I. But we 
 live in the world, and money is simply the 
 blood of the world. Why, even a squaw in 
 the tepee " 
 
 As if a squaw belonged to the same 
 creation as Connie Gilroy ! 
 
 " Never mind about the squaw," said 
 Jack. 
 
 "What s the matter with the Senator?" 
 said the little General. " He s a man of 
 power. If he finds living perhaps too pleas 
 ant well, you might do no better in his 
 place, Jack. If you really care for the girl, 
 you shouldn t be standing in her light. 
 You have nothing in the world but that 
 little frame house on the M Street bank 
 that you bought for the rise in land. 
 Stands you in for a thousand, maybe. And 
 he he can give her the luxury of princes. 
 She 11 be just as happy with the one as 
 with the other after a couple of years, say ; 
 and she 11 be a great deal better off with the 
 
 one." 
 
 [81] 
 
OLD WASHINGTON 
 
 " If you say another word," exclaimed 
 Jack, " I will get out and walk home." 
 
 " Well," said the General, " your legs are 
 long enough, and your ears, too." 
 
 But in spite of all that the General and 
 the rest of the world might say, Jack knew 
 where Connie s happiness lay, and was de 
 termined to act upon his knowledge. The 
 soft spring weather with its high white light 
 in the upper sky had come, the slopes of the 
 Capitol grounds were purple with violets, 
 and out of town the orchards were clouds 
 of blush and fragrance. One day the Gen 
 eral took a party down to Mount Vernon. 
 He was a kindly soul and he asked Celeste 
 Dreer and the other young ladies in the 
 house, with Mrs. McQueen s two step 
 daughters, Miss Milly and Miss Florry, 
 much the finest ladies in the house, to come 
 with the others. He had asked Jinny Can- 
 trail, the young actress, who was a de 
 lightful mystery and surprise to Agnes and 
 Helene, being the first person from stage- 
 land they had ever met, but she had a 
 rehearsal. 
 
 Connie had enjoyed the long green reaches, 
 [82] 
 
A GUARDIAN ANGEL 
 
 and the lonely desolation of the shores, and 
 the slow wash of the great river, the distant 
 crowing of the cocks, the bay of some great 
 hound, the chirping of the little naked 
 pickaninnies on the water s edge, the smoke 
 of their father s cabin above. As she stood 
 on the spacious piazza and strolled over the 
 slope where the hyacinths were springing in 
 the grass, she felt like a glad child the 
 liberty of her absence from office, and she 
 ate the dainties Helene and Agnes were 
 spreading on the grass, and drank from the 
 glass Jack brought her, with an irresponsi 
 ble sense of no to-morrow. Then suddenly 
 she understood it was Senator Bortle s pic 
 nic, as he joined them, and she rose and 
 strayed off into the garden. 
 
 The little General assisted himself labori 
 ously to get upon his feet and go after her. 
 " My dear child," said he, puffing along be 
 side her, " you you have n t any father. 
 And you must let me say that you really 
 -you are not treating the Senator 
 
 " Do you think my father would have 
 liked me to to do differently ? " said 
 Connie, looking down. 
 [83] 
 
OLD WASHINGTON 
 
 "Assuredly! assuredly! The Senator " 
 
 " If it were Miss Helene would you ? " 
 said Connie, looking up, while the General 
 felt as if he had seen a blue flash like that 
 of a swallow s wing. 
 
 "Well, I that is, my dear it alters 
 the case ; because, you see " 
 
 " Yes ? " said Connie softly then. 
 
 " She s as dense as a Cheshire cheese," 
 said the General afterward. But perhaps 
 the reason the conversation was not con 
 tinued was that Agnes, looking after them, 
 with a strange light opening her eyes, had 
 sent her cousin Jack to make a third. And 
 presently the little General returned, routed, 
 to finish the claret with the Senator at the 
 lunch hamper the Senator, who was plac 
 ing his reliance on a coup yet to be played 
 - and Jack and Connie had a half hour in 
 heaven as they wandered along the alleys of 
 the old gardens and between the hedges 
 breast high with spicy box. When they 
 came down to the boat, and paused a 
 moment where some little lads, to please 
 their elders, were making a sport of patriot 
 ism and taking the oath of allegiance at the 
 [84] 
 
A GUARDIAN ANGEL 
 
 tomb, "It is not the only oath of allegiance 
 taken to-day, as I m a sinner ! " whispered 
 Miss Helene to her sister. And all the way 
 up the river Connie sat in such a stupor of 
 joy that she did not even know the Senator 
 sat beside her, nodding sleepily after his 
 libations to the evil gods. 
 
 The great legislator was, however, quite 
 wide awake by the time they reached the 
 wharf, and was in a gay and bantering mood 
 as they trundled along homeward ; and when 
 they reached a candy shop he must have 
 them all out for bonbons ; and then, strolling 
 along the Avenue, he was presently stopping 
 at a jewelry window, where Connie found 
 herself half pushed through the doorway by 
 those behind her. " For," silently and con 
 sentaneously reasoned his cousins after all, 
 " this is a poor outlook for Jack, and for her 
 too. And if she should see what it is the 
 Senator can do for her " And there was 
 the Senator displaying the treasures that had 
 been sent over from New York for his in 
 spection, and Connie would have been more 
 than woman and less than human could 
 she have hindered a cry of delight at their 
 [85] 
 
OLD WASHINGTON 
 
 beauty, especially with all the others exclaim 
 ing too, and her mother, dark and flushed 
 and longing, with eager eyes beside her. 
 
 For the Senator held up a huge opal 
 carved with a Flying Mercury, looking like 
 the sky out of which the god might break 
 on any of these radiant fogs where the sun 
 dissolved the vapors over the Potomac. The 
 thin and sallow hand that flashed towards it 
 and then away was not Connie s. Nor did 
 she put out her hand when he lifted a pen 
 dant of pearls, blue and blush and black and 
 bronze, and milky ones lustrous as white fire. 
 Then, as Connie would have drawn back be 
 hind Miss Helene, who was critically exam 
 ining an Indian bangle, this purchaser in 
 the slave market balanced before her eyes 
 a huge barbaric butterfly, whose wings were 
 laminse of tourmaline, deep crimson at the 
 core, melting out to palest rose, and that 
 shading into delicatest green and down to 
 blackness, the body a precious cat s eye, the 
 antennae of tiny sparks. But Connie still 
 said nothing ; the exclamations of the others 
 perhaps covered her silence. Her mother s 
 hollow whispers were like a moan. He took 
 [86] 
 
A GUARDIAN ANGEL 
 
 up a circlet of loose-swinging rubies, from 
 whose centre hung a twilight-blue aquama 
 rine of strange tinct and cut. 
 
 " Oh," cried Miss Agnes, turning to see 
 if her sister saw, " how unspeakably gor 
 geous ! " while Mrs. Gilroy s eyes implored 
 the General s help. 
 
 " It is yours," murmured the Senator to 
 Connie, taking his opportunity. "Any of 
 them all of them all yours if you will." 
 
 " No, no, no ; oh no ! " answered Connie, 
 in the same tone. " I do not accept 
 gifts." 
 
 " Ah, I see ! " he said then. " Nothing 
 will do but diamonds. Well and these 
 are no common stones." And he took from 
 an inner pocket of the casket a pair of unset 
 diamonds that the jeweller planted in the 
 long pincers over the black velvet. They 
 were the size, perhaps, of a hazelnut, and 
 blue as the sky itself, and splendid as the 
 blue sky poured full of sunshine. " They 
 were a queen s once," murmured the Senator 
 again, Helene and Agnes busy with a second 
 bangle. " They shall be another queen s. 
 My wife shall wear them ; and they will not 
 [87] 
 
OLD WASHINGTON 
 
 match the blueness and the glory of her 
 eyes." 
 
 " I hope they will be becoming to her," 
 said Connie, turning to leave the place. 
 " Come, ma, dear " Jack, who had waited 
 in the doorway, joining her as she went 
 along, her mother lingering and looking back 
 and slowly following, as though each step 
 gave pain. 
 
 " That settles it, I fancy," whispered 
 Celeste to Miss Agnes. " Connie can t be 
 bought. But I m sorry for Jack by-and- 
 by. She will always remember those blue 
 diamonds." 
 
 It seemed to have settled it indeed. And 
 that night, after Jack had gone up to his 
 own room, remembering this scene, but still 
 more vividly remembering Connie as she sat 
 playing on her harp in the low room, her 
 hands lying like live white flowers on the 
 muted strings, remembering the last mo 
 ment ere they said good-night - - Tolly, with 
 nods and becks and wreathed smiles, having 
 called Mrs. Gilroy behind the curtain he 
 hardly knew were he sleeping or waking. 
 So deep and so glad was his dream that it 
 [88] 
 
A GUARDIAN ANGEL 
 
 seemed scarcely more real than the dream 
 into which he slipped. 
 
 The gladness of the dream still wrapped 
 the lovers even after the Boynewaters 
 fearing the warmer weather, and the Gen 
 eral, having finished his business with the 
 Secretary -- had left town, although with 
 urgent invitation to the Gilroys, and the 
 Senator had come up and taken a part of 
 their rooms. 
 
 Wha s he dar foh ? " said Tolly, when 
 she brought home the clothes. " Co tin 
 our Miss Connie wid his low-down imper- 
 ence ornery w ite trash ! He t ink Miss 
 Connie look at him wid one eye shet ? 
 Skasely." 
 
 " Oh, Tolly, he has such a heap of money! " 
 sighed Mrs. Gilroy. " She d be at the very 
 top of everything." 
 
 " She s top er t ings now, honey, Miss 
 Connie is. Wha s his money wuff? " as she 
 let down Mrs. Gilroy s hair and began brush 
 ing out its length. " I spec Mars Jack 11 
 git her all she done wants, and nobody 
 neenter wants more n dey wants. Go long 
 wid yer Mars Senator ! " said Tolly, whis- 
 [89] 
 
OLD WASHINGTON 
 
 tling millions down the wind as if a cabin 
 over in the Liberties were enough for human 
 happiness. " Dare, now, chile, Mars Jack 11 
 be right smart ob a comfort to yo yit. Dess 
 t row dat worry off n yo ter Mars Jack an 
 de Lawd, an let ole Tolly comb yo pooty 
 haV out twell yo gits ter sleep. Yo s on y 
 mammy s baby yo se f, po deah." 
 
 Everywhere now the sunbeams showered 
 down fervently, and the clouds of the Capi 
 tol dome rose from under- clouds of greenery, 
 and where the river wound, its steep south 
 bank was green as virgin forest. Sometimes, 
 after office hours, Jack took Connie out in 
 his skiff, the shells of the Analostans and 
 the Potomacs sweeping by ; and they lin 
 gered in the open water above the Three 
 Sisters till sunset painted the stream and 
 made it seem as if they floated in mid- 
 heaven. Or they waited till the moonlight 
 wrapped them, they two alone, in silvery 
 space. Sometimes Jack brought round 
 horses, and they were off down Rock Creek 
 way, where the dogwood boughs stretched 
 white level floors of bloom aloft through the 
 forest ; and they forded the stream and came 
 [90] 
 
A GUARDIAN ANGEL 
 
 in over the Heights, past gardens that seemed 
 in the soft dark a wilderness of flower and 
 fragrance. Or they were up by sunrise and 
 riding out on the Maryland hill roads, where, 
 far away, the city with its rosy colors lay be 
 low them in the quivering light, like the 
 dream of some flower-set place of columned 
 corridors and temples. Or they galloped 
 across to Arlington, as people had been 
 wont in the former times, with the dew on 
 the grass, and looked back on the dome 
 across the river and wondered concerning 
 the pleasant old days with morning guests 
 to breakfast there, and all the gayety that 
 had gone down under the billows of death 
 that seemed to roll and break visibly here 
 in the long cresting lines of headstones, 
 and that gave their joy the dash of sadness 
 which makes a saving shadow. And they 
 went out in the warm evenings, after the 
 roses began to intoxicate the air the great 
 crimson-black roses, the pale blush, the spot 
 less snowy ones and strolled in the blos- 
 somy squares, or sat in the soft shadows till 
 the caged mocking-birds hanging outside the 
 windows began their wild sweet music. 
 [91] 
 
OLD WASHINGTON 
 
 But not in all this time did the Senator 
 forget his pursuit. Flowers were almost 
 daily sent to the Gilroy door ; and the hint 
 was not taken when no thanks were returned, 
 nor when finally they were left to perish out 
 side. Little pasteboard boxes of sherbet 
 were brought there and declined, and large, 
 long glasses bristling with straws and green 
 stems of mint, rich with berry or cherry and 
 the sparkle of ice, and creaming with the cor 
 dial julep. It is a shame to have to say that 
 once Tolly, being there, took such a glass from 
 the messenger s hand and imbibed its juices 
 herself, with much happy rolling of her great 
 tender eyes and unctuous smacking of her 
 lips. " Tell yo mas r," she said to the boy, 
 " he s a Chrissen gen 1 man." 
 
 Occasionally the Senator ascended the 
 half flight and took a long breath and 
 knocked. It occurred once to Mrs. Gilroy, 
 as she opened the door herself, to say that 
 they were not at home ; but she had not the 
 quality ; and she admitted him as belonged 
 to Southern hospitality, and treated him be 
 comingly, and would have Connie play at 
 his request, cold enough although Connie 
 [92] 
 
A GUARDIAN ANGEL 
 
 was to chill the hottest fervor ; and the Sen 
 ator felt as if at last he had laid hand on 
 his hope, and he renewed his proposal, only 
 to receive the same reply as on previous 
 occasion. 
 
 It was the long session of Congress. The 
 Senator in his seersucker clothes, and with 
 his large light umbrella and palm-leaf fan, 
 made himself as comfortable as he could, 
 although his rubicund countenance beaded 
 with warm drops told of but ill success. In 
 the evenings, as he took his chair and sat out 
 with Celeste Dreer and the young actress, 
 Virginia Cantrell, and some other of the 
 various lodgers and boarders, on the broad 
 sidewalk, one must endure his society or 
 go into the house that was something like 
 an oven after the fire has been drawn a little 
 while. 
 
 It would have been unpleasant to any one 
 less simple minded than Connie to come 
 wandering home with Jack and to encounter 
 the company sitting with the Senator and 
 his fan, and for whom he had usually ordered 
 up ices from the confectioner s on the Ave 
 nue. The ices were no temptation to Con- 
 [93] 
 
OLD WASHINGTON 
 
 nie going quietly by. But the beggar 
 begging for his drop of water hardly longed 
 with more longing than Mrs. Gilroy had in 
 knowledge of those ices out there, she suffer 
 ing within, remembering with a pang the 
 proposal for Connie s hand that had first 
 come to her through the General, angry 
 that Connie could not have found the Sena 
 tor to her mind, and then despising herself 
 as she recalled the moist mountain of flesh 
 and contrasted it with the half-heroic air of 
 a person tall and straight and dark and spare 
 and tender. All the same, the anger would 
 recur when in the late afternoons, if she 
 chanced to be in the front of the house, she 
 saw Gloria Campeador, and other as fine 
 ladies, in their open carriages, with their gay 
 parasols, driving by to Harewood and the 
 Soldiers Home, or out to Fort Whipple, 
 and knew they were cooled by the breeze 
 of their own motion, and knew they would 
 drive down in the delicious dark over the 
 Long Bridge and the water, or by the K 
 Street market, with the torches flaring over 
 the heads of the mules and the colored 
 people, emerging out of blackness, over piles 
 194] 
 
A GUARDIAN ANGEL 
 
 of crisp vegetables and berries and the boughs 
 of blossoms there, and felt herself withering 
 with heat, and thought of Connie at the 
 sweltering work of the Printing Bureau. 
 But the moment she heard Jack s proud 
 step come ringing into the hall, all her faint 
 heart went out in loyalty to him, and she 
 said she would die of the heat and thirst 
 before she would let Jack have a sorrow. 
 And then she used to say to Tolly that she 
 really did n t know whether she or Connie 
 was the most in love with Jack. 
 
 But one day Mrs. Gilroy made a fatal 
 mistake. The Senator had called before 
 Connie s return from office, and had spoken 
 again of his wishes and purposes in regard 
 to her. 
 
 " It seems right unkind," said Mrs. Gil 
 roy, " here in my own room, but you just 
 ought to have more sense, Colonel. Down 
 in my country we don t speak of such things 
 till the bride-cake s baked, but when my 
 daughter marries, anyway, it will be Mr. 
 Knowles that stands up with her." 
 
 " I can t credit it ! " puffed the Senator. 
 "I I ought to forbid the banns ! A 
 [95] 
 
OLD WASHINGTON 
 
 Department clerk, who can have nothing 
 -that superb creature, who should ride in 
 her carriage and wear her cashmeres - 
 
 " Not in dis yer wedder," murmured 
 Tolly, behind the curtain. 
 
 " Oh, I know it, I know it ! " said Mrs. 
 Gilroy. " And if her pa had only lived - 
 
 " But, you see, he did n t," said the Sen 
 ator, softly. "And when I think there 
 is n t a princess in Europe could look as she 
 would in a coronet of old-mine stones, and 
 that I could give it to her - 
 
 " I wish you could ! " said Mrs. Gilroy. 
 
 The Senator sat a little while, leaning 
 forward with one elbow on his knee, and 
 forgetting to fan himself and to wonder how 
 any one existed in that superheated room. 
 When he looked up there was an unusual 
 brightness in his watery eye. " I sha n t 
 take this as final," said he. "I Ve wanted a 
 good many things in my life, and I Ve 
 always got them. Perhaps she 11 listen to 
 reason by and by." He paused a moment. 
 "It s for her own good," he said. 
 
 " Toobysho ! " murmured Tolly. 
 
 "At any rate, Mrs. Gilroy, if you ever 
 [96] 
 
A GUARDIAN ANGEL 
 
 find yourself in need of a friend, you ll 
 know where to look for him." 
 
 " Oh, I m always in powerful need," cried 
 Mrs. Gilroy. 
 
 " Very well," said the Senator. 
 
 It w T as the next afternoon that Connie 
 came home with a weary step and an ashen 
 face. The great heat was beginning to tell 
 upon her ; but this pallor was born of more 
 than the heat. The head of her division had 
 told her that her services were no longer re 
 quired. Another person with more influence 
 had her place. 
 
 But before Mrs. Gilroy had time to realize 
 the blow, in the materialization of her most 
 haunting idea, Jack had followed. And 
 when Tolly, as she went home, passed the 
 Senator at the door out of which she some 
 times chose to go rather than by the alley 
 way, bursting with pride and joy she could 
 not contain herself; and looking down at 
 him from the corners of her big dancing 
 eyes, as she balanced her basket of clothes 
 on her head, she went along muttering : 
 " Lawd-a-mussy ! Mos allus ginerly folks 
 burns dare fingers meddlin . Dess natally 
 7 [97] 
 
OLD WASHINGTON 
 
 hurries up de cakes. De sun ain done 
 shine on a w iter bride n my Miss Connie 
 gwine be nex week comin , cept Miss Jule 
 herse f was, foh sho ! " 
 
 Perhaps the Senator s next interference 
 was more to the purpose. For when Jack 
 went to his desk, a morning or two later, 
 there lay the dreadful yellow envelope. 
 For a moment the handsome head that 
 Connie loved went down upon the desk. 
 What in the world was there to do ? Now 
 everything was impossible. 
 
 His chief had no help for him. He, an 
 employd of the State Department, had as 
 saulted a member of the diplomatic body 
 -the little attache, of whose punishment 
 the Boynewaters and the Senator had so 
 laughingly and indignantly approved. After 
 such action, which had just been reported, 
 and which had been fully related in a 
 Graphic letter of the time, it was idle to 
 hope to be reinstated. 
 
 And the life of the office had unfitted him 
 
 for everything else. And if it had not, 
 
 what was there to which he could turn his 
 
 hand in a hurry ? What that would stand 
 
 [98] 
 
A GUARDIAN ANGEL 
 
 in this gap of life and death for Connie 
 and her mother ? The sale of the little M 
 Street site and shanty could cover only the 
 present needs. He saw himself, down a 
 sudden vista, hanging on the hope of another 
 place when the Senator should be snowed 
 under, down at heel, borrowing money, liv 
 ing from hand to mouth. He would be 
 better going out and taking up a quarter- 
 section. But what was Connie for a rough 
 life and the battle with the wilderness ? 
 And give up Connie, his dear girl, his white 
 innocent and the day of their wedding 
 named ah, never ! And he walked the 
 morning long in the sultry heat, slow and 
 laggingly after a time, and fell prostrate on 
 the lounge in the low, dim room at last, 
 insensible from sunstroke. 
 
 "Oh, Tolly, Tolly!" cried Mrs. Gilroy, 
 wringing her helpless hands when Tolly 
 came in that night. " What, what is to 
 become of us ? We Ve lost our place ! And 
 so has your Master Jack ! And not a pica 
 yune to cross ourselves with ! " 
 
 " Prince er darkness ! Dat s bad news 
 foh sho ! " said Tolly. " Huh ! An I am 
 [99] 
 
OLD WASHINGTON 
 
 brung my t inkin -cap erlong. Dat look 
 jubus." 
 
 " And we shall starve to death, Tolly ! " 
 
 " Sho , now, honey ! " 
 
 " Yes, yes, we Ve either to beg or starve, 
 and it s a heap sight easier to starve ! " 
 
 " Sho , sho, now, honey ! I ain no pa 
 tience wid yo , Miss Jule. Gilroys talkin 
 bout starbin ! Who said dat ar," cried 
 Tolly, fiercely, taking off her bandanna and 
 tying it in a more defiant topknot than 
 before, " bout de seed ob de righteous ? 
 Yo ain gwine be fo saken, Miss Jule, wid 
 dese yer han s in de worl ! " 
 
 " Oh, my poor Tolly ! " sobbed Mrs. 
 Gilroy. 
 
 " Tellin bout picayunes," exclaimed Tolly, 
 " dar s a right smart ob em in de box wid 
 my ole man s razor." 
 
 " Oh, Tolly, Tolly, what of it ? " 
 
 " W at ob it ? W y dey s yo s. I sesso." 
 
 " Tolly dear ! You know T can t take 
 your money." 
 
 " My money, Miss Jule ? Well, now, I 
 likes dat. My money ! W y, Miss Jule ! 
 Honey ! " urged Tolly, with the silkiest 
 [100] 
 
A GUARDIAN ANGEL 
 
 persuasion in her voice. " Don I long ter 
 yo ? Ain de bery brefF in my body yo s ? 
 Ain I, an my chilluns, an eberyt ing I se 
 got, yo s ? Yo don spec yo reckon any- 
 t ing dis yer mis able no-account No then 
 gub ment says make any diff unce in t ings 
 as dey really be ? Dese yer fractitious Yan 
 kee laws, dey can t make brack w ite. An 
 I se brack, an yo sarbunt, an yo prop ty, 
 an de wuk ob yo ban s ! I longs ter yo , 
 Miss Jule, honey ! " said Tolly, sitting down 
 beside Miss Jule and holding out both her 
 poor hands, with the rosy palms upward, as 
 if to put on the old fetters. 
 
 "Oh, Tolly, Tolly!" cried Mrs. Gilroy, 
 her arms round Tolly s neck and her head 
 upon the comfortable bosom. " We have n t 
 a friend in the world but you ! " 
 
 " An dat s a plenty ! " said Tolly. " Yo 
 dess keep de ice on Mars Jack s head de 
 po suff rin martyr dis yer diclous ornery 
 Pruridun done mak ob im, an Tolly 11 
 do de res , atter a w ile. Yo neenter be 
 cast down dat a-way, lil missy. I spec 
 dar s folkses in de worl wusser off n yo 
 is. Yo dess watch out twell yo see our 
 [101] 
 
OLD WASHINGTON 
 
 Miss Connie hole up her head wid de 
 swimmyess set ob dem all, an axin howdy 
 ter de Queen ob France like she was an er 
 queen herse f, hi-yi ! " 
 
 The smoke was curling busily out of 
 the chimney of the cabin over on the 
 island next day ; and the appetizing odors 
 that poured through the door were con 
 tinually bringing from his play a little 
 colored boy, whose sole garment was a 
 pair of trousers buttoned round the neck. 
 
 " Now, Abram Linkum Tollifer," cried 
 Tolly, her face glittering with perspiration 
 and joy, "yo s done hab all de mush an 
 milk yo could carry dis yer breathin 
 mornin . An yo gwine ter hab taters 
 an pepper an po k-fat foh dinner; an yo 
 ain t ter say a word ter yo pa w en he come 
 fum wuk, bout dis an all. Ef yo does, 
 I dess lam yo twell yo drap. Now yo 
 hear me ? An I put yo ter bade an call 
 de bogy ter sot by ! But good li l boys 
 has dare molasseses biled wid fat ter dip 
 dare hoe-cake inter, toobysho . Yo sees, 
 sonny," she said, in the more amicable 
 [102] 
 
A GUARDIAN ANGEL 
 
 tone, as she carefully laid the viands in a 
 basket, while Abram s mouth watered and 
 his great eyes rolled mightily in his little 
 serious face, "up dar ter Miss Jule s 
 t ain lak dey was hungry or did n hab de 
 fat ob de Ian ter lib on. Lawd-a-mussy, 
 dey hes poun -cake fried foh brekfuss, an 
 birheds up, dressed, fum Andy Hancock s, 
 an ice-creams th ee times ebery day ob dare 
 libes. An de roas possums layin roun de 
 carbin -tables dare - - tain no use talkin ! " 
 
 "I di n t see none w en I was dare," re 
 marked Abram, wistfully. 
 
 " Yo was tuk up. Yo seed Miss Jule, 
 an Miss Connie, de w ite flower. An yo 
 knowed yo mammy useter long ter dem 
 foh she longed ter herse f " 
 
 " Yo don now," said Abram, edging 
 nearer to the sweet- cakes. 
 
 " No. We s free niggers now, bress de 
 Lawd ! An yo s gwine ter go ter schule 
 an grow up a man, an Take dat ! " 
 that being a sounding slap on poor Abram s 
 little fat, peculating fingers. " Now yo dess 
 roar out yo roar ! " and she went on with 
 her packing. 
 
 [103] 
 
OLD WASHINGTON 
 
 " I don bleeb dey hes de possums/* 
 whimpered Abram, presently. 
 
 " Co se dey does. Ain dey w ite quality ? 
 An don de worl , possums an all, long ter 
 de w ite quality ? " 
 
 " I years pa done tell bout de possums 
 down in Georgy, an dey mos allus gin- 
 erly longed ter cullud pussons." 
 
 " Well, mebbe dey war n possums, den. 
 Dey was li l roas suckin pigs, sho nuff ; dat 
 was w at dey was, now I minds agin. But 
 I warn dem folkses up dar ter see us po 
 cullud pussons hes some t ings down yere 
 dess well es yuthers, kaze I hes ter keep up 
 de credit ob yo pa s fam ly. An so I se 
 totin up dis yer frie chicken an Merrylan 
 biscuit an lemon cakes ; an some day I se 
 gwine tote up a piece er watermillyun, des 
 ter let em see we hes watermillyun down 
 yere ter set our teef in. Yere, now, Abram 
 - it s mammy s sonny, sho nuff ! Yo un- 
 nerstan , I dess hatter do it ! An dar s de 
 pan, an yo can hab de scrapin s dar s 
 bunnunce ob em ; an w en de circus comes 
 agin - Loss ter gracious ! dare s a great 
 big copper Miss Jule done gib me. Desso. 
 [104] 
 
A GUARDIAN ANGEL 
 
 Yo take it an wrop it in yo trousers, an 
 done forgit off n yo min all bout dis yer. 
 Yo hear me ? " 
 
 " Yessum," said Abram. 
 
 " . T ain s ef yo was skeered ob starbin ," 
 said Tolly. " Dare, dat s mammy s boy. 
 P r aps yo pa 11 go swimmin wid yo , 
 come Sa day," and planting then a great 
 moist kiss on the soft, trembling lips, she 
 lifted the basket to her head, and felt bet 
 ter when she turned, after a few steps, to 
 see Abram first looking at both sides of his 
 penny, and then standing on his head and 
 slapping his heels together. 
 
 "Ef yo don take an eat de las crumb, 
 honey," said Tolly, upon Mrs. Gilroy s tear 
 ful refusal of her basket, her hands, her 
 head, her eyes, all her round body agitated, 
 - " I done t row de hole bakin ob it out n 
 de street, an come up yere an do it eb ry 
 day ! Don yo t ink yo ole Tolly s any 
 heart ? Yo wanter bre k it ? Di n t yo say 
 I se de bes frieii yo bed ? Huccom yo treat 
 a frien dat a- way ? Now, honey, I se gwine 
 ter come back fob de dishes to-morrer, an 
 by dat ar time I se gwine hab an idy, I spec 
 [105] 
 
OLD WASHINGTON 
 
 I reckon, how ter totch up dat feller settin 
 out dar wid his fan. He don lub de hot 
 wedder he s done gwine hab it hotter 
 here, an hereatter too hi-yi ! Like ter see 
 ole Mars Tollifer a-flirtin ob a fan ! Huh ! 
 I low he ain no kin ob a genTman." 
 
 " That he ain t, then," said Mrs. Gilroy. 
 
 " But, yo see, Miss Jule," continued Tolly, 
 wiping her face with her apron, " he s dat 
 low down ornery, ef I done gib him my 
 pinion ob him, he d dess go ter de boss an 
 say, Yo got a nigger yere, red -headed coon 
 called Cassio ? An my ole man d lose his 
 job. An it s a good job, Miss Jule oh, 
 pow fle good ! He earn git Tolly s job, 
 dough. He earn git his dirty han s inter 
 my tubs. But co se I done go slow." 
 
 Poor Tolly s notion of going slow was to 
 toss her chin as she passed the Senator, 
 choosing the front door for her way, and 
 to remark to herself, very audibly, " Huh ! 
 One ob dese yer No then dough-faces." 
 
 Tolly did not take the cars going 
 home. 
 
 " Two fam lies on my han s, an I gotter 
 walk," she said to herself; although she was 
 [106] 
 
A GUARDIAN ANGEL 
 
 prepared to say to Miss Jule, if questioned, 
 " Dem Av nue cyars dess too full ob dose 
 sickly no-account Afercans foh a pusson dat 
 spec s herse f ter brush up against." 
 
 She came in, the next twilight, by the 
 alleyway, with another basket, and set it 
 down to look round and express her delight 
 at seeing Jack sufficiently recovered to be 
 lying on the lounge there, with Connie s 
 hand on his head a comforting hand ; it 
 could not be a cool one in the stifling atmos 
 phere of that hot and dusky room, lighted 
 only by the reflection of the lamp in the 
 alley. 
 
 " Now don yo go ter hab no feelin s 
 bout dis yer," said Tolly, as she unpacked 
 her basket and looked presently at Mrs. 
 Gilroy, who was hiding her face in the cor 
 ner of her chair and rocking in a luxury of 
 woe. " Tain no time foh de Tollifer an 
 Gilroy pride er de flesh. I se keepin a res- 
 torator, I is, an I se trustin yo an Miss 
 Connie twell yo kin pay me. An I spec 
 yo ter pay me, ebery copper. Yo hes yo 
 reck nin chalked up ter my place. I cou n t 
 afford it no er way, yo know. So yo ain 
 [107] 
 
OLD WASHINGTON 
 
 under no bleedzmen . Yo s holpin ter start 
 me in de restorator bus ness. An now, 
 honey, I se gwine holp start yo ." 
 
 "Tolly!" said Mrs. Gilroy, surprised and 
 puzzled, but tolerant. 
 
 " Yo see dat gre t gold harp dar ? " said 
 Tolly then. " Wha s dat foh ? Wha foh 
 Miss Connie wuk wusser n a mule learnin 
 how come it full er tune, ef twarn long 
 er some puppose ? Don yo call dat ar a 
 reel leadin ob de Lawd ? " 
 
 " I don t know what you re talkin about, 
 Tolly ! " said Mrs. Gilroy, petulantly. 
 
 " I se tellin yo , Miss Jule. Wen I see 
 Miss Connie a-reachin ob her arms crost 
 dat ar harp an a-twiddlin ob her fingers 
 thoo de strings, I dess t inks ob de Lawd s 
 w ite lilies, an I knows she won look no 
 diff unt w en she s singin ob her hosannas 
 in heben " 
 
 " Oh, my goodness, Tolly, as if I did n t 
 know all about Connie and her harp ! " 
 
 "But, Miss Jule," said Tolly, bending 
 forward impressively, "huccom dar ain no 
 brack folkses singin hosannas ter dare harps 
 in heben ? " 
 
 [108] 
 
A GUARDIAN ANGEL 
 
 "How you talk, Tolly! I don t know, 
 I m sure. I suppose there are." 
 
 " Oh, no, no, honey ! T would n be 
 heben ! T would n be heben noways. I 
 spec I reckon de souls done grow w ite, 
 Miss Jule," said Tolly. " But how is dey 
 gwine play de harp up yander ef dey ain 
 neber learn ter play it down yere ? Desso. 
 Dat s w at fotches rne," said Tolly, drawing 
 back with her hands upon her hips, and the 
 bright ends of the knot in her turbaned 
 handkerchief bristling like birds ready to fly. 
 " Huh ! Miss Jule ! De on iest way is foh 
 dem ter learn ter play dare hosannas yere, 
 foh dey go dare. I se comin ter de nub atter 
 a w ile, honey. An ef Miss Connie don 
 effuse ter do it it s Chrissen wuk I se 
 got a dozen li l cullud gels, an dare mas 11 be 
 tickle ter deff ef she gib em lessons onter 
 de harp. Dare ! Desso. An dey all dess 
 honin atter it. An dey all hes de money 
 ter pay, foh dey all hes dare own washtubs." 
 
 "Tolly ! " screamed Mrs. Gilroy, lifting her 
 
 dishevelled head and tear-stained face from 
 
 the side of the calico-covered chair where 
 
 she was rocking to and fro " Tolly Jupi- 
 
 [109] 
 
OLD WASHINGTON 
 
 ter ! I never knew such impudence in my 
 born days. The i-dea ! That s just what 
 this ridiculous wah has done ! A dozen " 
 
 " Don yo go foh ter say it, Miss Jule ! " 
 implored Tolly, in her silveriest tone. " Don 
 yo go ter gittin ma-ad, honey. Brack 
 money s good es w ite. She would n tek 
 no harm learnin em in Sunny-schule. Yo 
 own ma totched me de Sermon on de 
 Mount. An 1 dare li l brack han s ud look 
 mighty peart pickin on dem strings - 
 
 "Oh, Tolly," cried Connie, "let them 
 come ! 1 11 like it. I 11 like it right well, 
 you dear Tolly ! And, you know, ma, dear, 
 it will be something " 
 
 " Sumpin ? " cried Tolly. " It 11 be food 
 an fiyeh an clo se twell Mars Jack comes 
 roun right. An , Miss Connie, lamb," said 
 Tolly, turning to the one who would listen 
 to reason, " dat ar ain de hull. Dare s 
 Mars Jack s place up de M Street bank. 
 Mebbe tain on y a li l two-story ole ram 
 shackle, but it s done got a po ch, an a bit er 
 groun foh a rose an a watermillyun ; an ef 
 yo s married ter Mars Jack, co se it s yo s. 
 An my ole man 11 come wid his cyart by 
 [110] 
 
A GUARDIAN ANGEL 
 
 daylight, fob it s time fo de boss, an rnoob 
 dese yer t ings ob yo s wid me, wedder I 
 habs ter hab a right smart ob a li l chaw fus 
 er not. An I se git yo plumb settle dah 
 foh de chillims comes foh dare lessons. An 
 yo earn tek car ob Mars Jack as t is, honey ; 
 but ef yo s his wife, co se t ings is diff unt, 
 honey," said Tolly, tenderly as a marriage 
 benediction. "An dar s gwine ter be a 
 monstus rise ob Ian , I years tell, up dat 
 a- way ; make de lot wuff a brick house dat 
 keeps dese yer lodgers, an fotch in a heap 
 er money, twell Mars Jack done git his 
 bus ness." 
 
 " Oh, Tolly," murmured Jack, " you are 
 a blessing to society ! " 
 
 "Ki-yi! Mars Jack!" laughed Tolly. 
 " Yo ain so bery past goin ! Yo s a-comin 
 roun fas . Be on yo foots in de twinkle ob 
 yo eye. Now, Mars Jack," said Tolly, 
 stepping across the room and bending over 
 him, "yo s done hab a trifle er money in 
 yo close, put by todes dese yer rainy days ? 
 Co se, co se. An yo s got some fren er 
 nurer ? Desso. Den yo let im done git 
 de licenses an de passon ter-morrer mornin . 
 [Ill] 
 
OLD WASHINGTON 
 
 Laws ter gracious ! " as she threw back her 
 head with a peal of joyous and contagious 
 laughter, " Ef dis yer cullud pusson s heart 
 ain done bust wid joy ter come walkin 
 down yere ter-morrer night, an dat ar Mars 
 Senator a-sottin out yander wid his fan, an 
 step up an tell him howdy, an say, Yo 
 ain seed Mis Jack Knowles gwine out, I 
 dun no ? Huh ! Dare, dare ; t ain no cos - 
 Her to lib single nor it is double. An de 
 Lawd 11 tek car ob de sheared lambs. Yo 
 see, he s a doin ob it now ! " 
 
 "Oh, ToUy, Tolly!" cried her penitent 
 and reckless mistress, her arms round Tolly 
 as far as they would go. " You are our 
 guardian angel ! " 
 
 " Huh ! Miss Jule ! " said Tolly, laughing 
 and crying together. " I telled yo afoh. 
 Who eber heered of a brack guarding 
 angel?" 
 
Ill 
 
 In a Conspiracy 
 
In a Conspiracy 
 
 A" L at once the heads of the grave 
 and reverend seigneurs in the Sen 
 ate chamber were turned toward the 
 diplomatic gallery, and Senator Bortle s head 
 with them. Harry Bentinck had just come 
 in from the House to consult one of the 
 senators of his State regarding a point in 
 question, and of course his gaze followed the 
 others. The heads slowly turned back again, 
 and the business of the hour, which really 
 had not had an appreciable pause, was re 
 sumed. Kindly remember that this was 
 some years ago. Perhaps the heads of sena 
 tors are not so easily turned to-day. 
 
 It was but a moment; but in that mo 
 ment all things had made shift to change, 
 and nothing was ever quite the same to 
 Harry Bentinck, Member of Congress from 
 a district famed for sending a powerful 
 representative, and a man of whom rather 
 remarkable things were expected. 
 [115] 
 
OLD W ASHING TON 
 
 He passed his hands across his eyes with 
 a quick, involuntary motion. " Dazzled ? " 
 said Senator MacMichael, at whose desk he 
 stood. "Well, then, have a care. There 
 are hidden reefs in those waters. Wiser 
 men than you have come to shipwreck over 
 just such spots." 
 
 But what was that to Harry Bentinck ? 
 He was suddenly aware that he was living 
 his own life, aware of it with a fulness of 
 the heart, a bounding of the blood, an exhil 
 aration of the brain, that made him feel clear 
 headed enough to understand the meaning 
 of the universe. Alas, he had only plunged 
 into the darkness of the greatest secret of it 
 all ! He had fallen irrecoverably in love 
 with Gloria Campeador. 
 
 The old Senator glanced up into the gal 
 lery and glanced away again. He saw 
 nothing there to detain the eye imperatively 
 just a pretty woman. But what Harry 
 Bentinck saw was all the romance of old 
 Spain, of young Cuba, of girlhood, of inno 
 cence, of beauty, of love. As the girl stood 
 an instant, while her companion seated her 
 self, one saw her tall shape and observed the 
 [116] 
 
IN A CONSPIRACY 
 
 mantilla-like effect of her hat and veil, for 
 she was in a sort of half mourning, and then 
 the perfect pallor, as smooth and exquisite 
 as that of the petal of a cape jasmine, and 
 the face in which her features were chiselled 
 like some delicate sculpture, and where the 
 eyes, large and black fringed, glowed like 
 dark, unknown jewels. 
 
 " You meaner beauties of the skies, 
 What are you when the moon doth rise ? " 
 
 Harry Bentinck was saying to himself, and 
 he was making for the gallery, where An 
 thony should introduce him, when he was 
 met by this senator and by that, with con 
 gratulations on his speech of the day before 
 in the House, and delayed till there were 
 too many up there to make it wise to 
 add himself to their indistinguishable num 
 ber, even if the Vice-President had not left 
 his chair just then and walked with him to 
 a sofa, where he might speak with him on 
 a subject of mutual interest; for the young 
 congressman was already a person of some 
 importance. Well, he would make inquiries 
 by and by, he thought. He was not to be 
 [1171 
 
OLD WASHINGTON 
 
 baffled in anything on which he had set his 
 heart. 
 
 And meanwhile here was this pressing 
 piece of business ; and there was the Jus 
 tices dinner; and the Cuban matter, of 
 which he knew nothing, to look up for an 
 interview in The Lictor in the interest of 
 some of the people at home who wished to 
 maintain things as they were; and so the 
 time passed. And the next day a pair of 
 constituents, who considered that they owned 
 him, had to be taken care of and shown 
 the city, and there were the committee 
 meetings, and a matter to be laid before the 
 President, and Harry Bentinck found that 
 the man who served his country had not 
 much time in which to serve himself. All 
 the same he had not turned a corner with 
 out looking either way, and, although many 
 of the young women taking their afternoon 
 stroll on the Avenue or driving up and down 
 its length bent for a second glance at the 
 tall and handsome young fellow swinging 
 down from the Capitol with the ruddiness 
 of youth still on his countenance, in his 
 wish to see one he saw none. 
 [118] 
 
IN A CONSPIRACY 
 
 It was quite perfunctorily and because it 
 was expected of him, being on the com 
 mittee for foreign affairs, that he went to 
 the ball at the Mexican legation. He wan 
 dered through the rooms, seeing few that he 
 knew and thinking he was not made for 
 social life and he would be better at home 
 reading up on international law, when, like 
 a statue in relief against a mass of mossy 
 greenery, he saw Gloria, clad in white satin, 
 her fingers playing with the rope of pearls 
 that, falling from the high comb in her 
 blue-black shining hair, wound about her 
 throat and fell again below her waist. At 
 that moment she dropped her fan. " Thank 
 you, Mr. Bentinck," she said very distinctly, 
 as he bent and restored it, and then he bent 
 again and almost as low. " I saw you," she 
 said then, with an enchanting smile, " in 
 the Senate chamber. I asked who you 
 were " 
 
 " I also, senorita I saw you," he mur 
 mured, "but no one has told me your 
 
 name." 
 
 " I am Gloria Campeador," she said 
 gently. " They do not call me senorita, 
 [119] 
 
OLD WASHINGTON 
 
 although I am Cuban born. But I have 
 lived so long in New York, out of my own 
 country, the habits follow me 
 
 " You call Cuba a country, then ? " asked 
 Mr. Bentinck. 
 
 " Cuba a country ! " The heavy white lids 
 lifted in a flash. " What do you call it ? 
 A Spanish dependency ? No, no ! She is 
 chained and bound and bleeding, but she 
 is utterly a country, the youngest of all 
 the countries, may be, my country ! " Al 
 though she spoke so low, with a sort of re 
 straint in her voice, there was a fire beneath 
 the tone that kindled response in the hearer. 
 
 " You make me believe you," he said. 
 
 "Ah, then," she replied, with a quick 
 laugh, as she threw open her fan, " that 
 repays me for keeping my temper. And 
 you know it is difficult," she said quickly, 
 half under her breath, "when my one 
 thought, my one hope, is for my country." 
 
 She was so beautiful, so impassioned, as 
 she stood there, still, half leaning, with a 
 certain languor of attitude, but with such 
 a glow in her eye, on her smile, that Harry 
 Bentinck felt a sudden, strange dislike of 
 [120] 
 
IN A CONSPIRACY 
 
 other eyes upon her. "You shall tell me 
 about it," he said. 
 
 " Here, in a ballroom ? " she replied gayly. 
 " Ah, you will forgive me that I spoke of 
 anything so sad and serious when we should 
 do nothing but dance." And then the 
 music began again, and Mr. Bentinck, who 
 had not danced for years, hardly knew how 
 it was that he was whirling down the room, 
 with an arm about that waist, with that 
 fragrant hair almost touching his shoulder, 
 and with his senses steeped in the subtle 
 spell of the warmth, the deliciousness of the 
 moment, the music quickening into a mad 
 movement and sweeping them at its will. 
 
 " Stop ! " she said imperiously, as the 
 dance surged on. " Stop ! It is not the 
 way I like to dance. I will not be taken 
 out of myself so." And the color flashed 
 over her face, but left it as instantly in its 
 creamy pallor, when they paused where the 
 wind blew in, and recovered their breath 
 under the bough of a great palm. She 
 waved her fan slowly, shedding its violet 
 wood odor about her. Then she looked 
 up and smiled her slow, delightful smile. 
 
OLD WASHINGTON 
 
 " Dancing is like life, is it not ? " she said. 
 " Now you must take me to my aunt." 
 And as they went along she added, " You 
 reverse very well." 
 
 It was with difficulty that they threaded 
 the crowd, detained at every turn by salu 
 tations, and now and then accosted by men 
 who bowed their sleek dark heads and mur 
 mured some French or Spanish sentence as 
 they passed. They paused at length before 
 a sleepy woman of massive proportions, who 
 sat in a row of stately dames as weary as 
 herself. 
 
 "Ma tante," she said, "this is Mr. 
 Bentinck. I have introduced myself to 
 him. I have danced with him. I have 
 committed every impropriety have I not, 
 Mr. Bentinck ? which a duenna should 
 prevent and of which a chaperon should 
 disapprove, and I want you to condone 
 them all," still speaking rapidly in French, 
 "by inviting Mr. Bentinck Mr. Bentinck, 
 Madame D Arco to call upon you at the 
 Arlington. Won t you ? " 
 
 The duenna would have been more than 
 human to resist that coaxing accent, and 
 [Itt] 
 
IN A CONSPIRACY 
 
 she murmured something, and Mr. Ben- 
 tinck, acknowledging the introduction and 
 the invitation, murmured something else. 
 
 " You speak French to the madame," he 
 said in some surprise. 
 
 " Instead of Spanish ? Never Spanish 
 when any other language, even that of 
 dumb signs, can be used. That tongue of 
 the peninsulares ! I would have all, all my 
 countrymen forswear the Spanish and some 
 day speak only the American." And then 
 a dancer had claimed the Cuban, and Mr. 
 Bentinck saw her gliding away in the arms 
 of another man with a distinct feeling of out 
 rage. But, although he stayed by Madame 
 D Arco, furbishing up his best French for 
 her benefit, further pleasure was not given 
 to him that night. He had not even that 
 of putting Gloria into her carriage ; and all 
 the music, all the flowers, all the jewelled 
 dancers, all the beautiful women, were no 
 more than phantoms moving to noiseless 
 measures. 
 
 It was of little use for Mr. Bentinck to 
 attempt his congressional duties the next 
 day. The clerk seemed to be droning 
 [123] 
 
OLD WASHINGTON 
 
 Spanish, the calling of the roll was only an 
 iteration of the syllables of Gloria Cam- 
 peador s name, and between the leaves of 
 the folio he pretended to consult swam in 
 that beautiful pale face, and he kept saying 
 to himself: 
 
 " She walks in beauty like the night 
 Of cloudless climes and starry skies, 
 
 And all that s best of dark and bright 
 Meet in her aspect and her eyes." 
 
 He was, after all, an innocent young 
 fellow, with a talent for telling speeches, 
 and he had been pushed along by the people 
 at home more for his promise than his per 
 formance, and partly because youth is plastic 
 and sometimes easily moulded to the pur 
 poses of others. 
 
 He had been born to one of the big for 
 tunes ; he had been occupied with books and 
 debates and business ; he had once gone 
 down into Mexico about some land titles 
 and caught up a little Spanish ; and he had 
 been more than once abroad in various 
 ways, but he had never had time to fall in 
 love before. When at length he was called 
 into a cloakroom for a consultation with one 
 [ 124] 
 
IN A CONSPIRACY 
 
 of his colleagues about a certain bounty, he 
 agreed to everything the other said without 
 having heard a word, and he escaped at last, 
 as if from a bear garden, to his own rooms, 
 a toilet, and the Arlington. 
 
 Several people were before him. Madame 
 D Arco, filling and overflowing her arm 
 chair, sat by the fire sipping her chocolate, 
 and Gloria sent away a dark youth and 
 invited Harry Bentinck to a place among 
 the cushions beside herself. She was in 
 a shapeless robe, more like a cloak than a 
 gown, he thought, of some thin white silk, 
 with great flots of lace, the drapery curl 
 ing round her feet as she rose. A white 
 lace mantilla fell from her hair, and she wore 
 the pearls again. 
 
 " Do you always wear pearls ? " he said. 
 
 " Almost always," she replied. " I had 
 other things, to be sure Spanish topazes. 
 I Avould have given them to the maids, but 
 I sold them instead. As for the diamonds, 
 they are my aunt s, too, and entailed anyway. 
 And so are the great star sapphires from 
 Ceylon, whose history is part of the history 
 of queens. But I wear pearls for the sake of 
 [125] 
 
OLD WASHINGTON 
 
 Cuba, the Pearl of the Antilles. That is 
 sentimental, fantastical ? At any rate - 
 
 "At any rate, it is beautiful," he said. 
 
 " If you mean that the pearls are beauti 
 ful, why, I know it. If you mean that 
 Cuba is beautiful, oh, then you win my 
 heart ! " 
 
 " I would mean anything for that," he 
 said. 
 
 " You know I did not intend - But 
 perhaps I shall put you to the test," she 
 added archly. " Is it two lumps or three ? 
 Not any tea ? Nor chocolate ? Then you 
 will have a cigarette ? " And she rolled 
 him one, and then she rolled another for 
 herself. " Is it disenchanting ? " she said, 
 holding it off after a fairy puff, and with a 
 laugh that at all events was captivating. 
 " But it is a custom of my country." 
 
 "Rather of old Spain, is it not?" said 
 Mr. Bentinck. 
 
 In an instant the cigarette had flashed 
 into the grate. " To tell the truth, I never 
 cared for it," she said, " but it was just a 
 duty, you know, to do anything that is 
 purely Cuban." 
 
 [126] 
 
IN A CONSPIRACY 
 
 " Or Russian ? " 
 
 " Yes, yes ! You are right. The only 
 thing that really seems to be purely Cuban 
 is suffering." 
 
 " I am afraid," he said, " that I have not 
 considered it sufficiently. I am ill informed 
 on this matter that interests you so deeply." 
 
 " You shall be better informed before you 
 leave us," she exclaimed, and she leaned 
 back among the cushions and looked straight 
 before her, so proud, so pale, so melancholy, 
 that Harry did not know whether the thrill 
 that went through him was a pang of sym 
 pathy for her sorrow or of joy for her beauty. 
 
 But whatever she might have said was 
 interrupted by the arrival of other guests. 
 " Do not go," said Madame D Arco, beckon 
 ing him to her side. " Let them pass." And 
 then for an hour or more he had to endure 
 the presence of an ex- Secretary of State, of 
 General Boyne water and another general 
 who had led triumphant battalions, of Sen 
 ator Bortle, some women of fashion, and 
 various foreigners. 
 
 Harry Bentinck, speaking now and then 
 with one and another, through it all really 
 [127] 
 
OLD WASHINGTON 
 
 saw no one but Gloria, the ease with which 
 she discussed with the Secretary the policy 
 of his predecessor, the sparkle with which 
 she met the soldiers, the half gracious, half 
 indifferent lassitude of her manner with the 
 foreigners, the fire that every once in a while 
 flashed out through it all. " I am tired," 
 she said, when the door closed on the last 
 of them. " I shall have to let you go. But 
 you will come again ? " And he went up 
 to a night session of the House as gloomily 
 as if he had been shut out of paradise. 
 
 It was the next morning that, something 
 overdone, he ordered his horse for a canter 
 out Rock Creek way before breakfast, the 
 roads being hard with frost. It was a day 
 when in the thin film of mist that overlay 
 the sky the whole atmosphere seemed one 
 vast opal, and all the country glistened in 
 rime under hazes of blue and silver. 
 
 The charm of it, the keen air and the 
 motion, gave him presently an exhilaration 
 that overcame his fatigue, a nameless joy, 
 just the joy of living and breathing, perhaps 
 of loving. He had nearly reached the old 
 mill when two riders came galloping down 
 [128] 
 
IN A CONSPIRACY 
 
 the crossroad and passed on without ob 
 serving him, the skirt of one, the veil, the 
 loosened tress, blowing on the wind, and 
 the dazzling beauty of the face flashing by 
 like an apparition. The other rider it 
 was not so easy. He remembered that 
 somewhat knightly bearing. He remem 
 bered that thin, dark, eager face, with the 
 burning eyes. Pie had seen it at the door 
 of the Arlington, perhaps on the Avenue, 
 under a sombrero. 
 
 What was she doing out here so early, 
 with no groom, riding alone with that 
 fellow ? Mr. Bentinck felt his heart quicken, 
 and when their speed slackened and he saw 
 her companion bend, as he rode, and take 
 her hand and go on slowly a few paces in 
 that way, he felt like spurring on his good 
 Morgan and riding the man down. But 
 presently the two shook their bridles and 
 proceeded at a round gait, and the young 
 Congressman, who had unconsciously fol 
 lowed them, turned and took another road, 
 very unfitted for his duties. 
 
 Perhaps Mr. Bentinck would have been 
 still more unfitted had he heard the conver- 
 9 [ 129 ] 
 
OLD WASHINGTON 
 
 sation of the riders as they went their 
 way. 
 
 " He is important," the man was saying ; 
 " as important as your senators. The hos 
 tile business interest the sugar interest, 
 you know in his district is immense. It 
 can make him or break him. It can drive 
 him to open measures of hostility that may 
 ruin us. It can demand them of him or 
 ruin him, poor devil ! I hate to make him a 
 tool there is something frank and gener 
 ous in his bearing that takes the heart - 
 but needs must for the cause. Add it up 
 against the Spaniard. His birth, his breed 
 ing, his wealth, all make him a power in 
 another way. And then the money behind 
 him, the money of those people that can run 
 over into elections ! He is new here, but 
 what he asks of the Administration he is 
 very likely to have. Yes, if you can silence 
 him, can only keep him silent, you do well." 
 
 " Perhaps I may do better." 
 
 " In what way ? " was the quick question. 
 
 " I may have him espouse the cause it 
 is not impossible give his wealth, his 
 talent, his name, to it." 
 [130] 
 
IN A CONSPIRACY 
 
 " He will not come back here for a second 
 term, then." 
 
 " Ah, well, what then ? There are as 
 good things in life as serving in that pande 
 monium up there." 
 
 " I did not ask for so much as that." 
 
 " You shall have it, though. All things 
 are fair in love and war." 
 
 " Well, when Cuba is free, he can have his 
 reward, for then there will be nothing you 
 cannot claim and have. The work you are 
 doing in making these friends, in silencing 
 these enemies and these possible enemies, 
 is equal to guns. But going on with all 
 your lovers you are like a juggler with his 
 golden balls in the air. How long can you 
 keep them in play ? You were rather dar 
 ing with Bentinck, I should say." 
 
 " It was necessary to startle him, to ar 
 rest him. But I fancy - - I don t know - 
 it seems to me just now that Delilah s 
 withes " 
 
 " God grant you are not over-confident, 
 my Gloria ! It is hard that you should sac 
 rifice yourself so. But it is for our country, 
 our dear country ! " 
 
 [131] 
 
OLD WASHINGTON 
 
 " Our dear country, Virgilio ! " And they 
 leaned across their saddles, and he kissed her 
 on the cheek. 
 
 Nor was Mr. Bentinck made easier in his 
 mind by the sight of Gloria, later in the day, 
 lunching in the Senate restaurant with Ma 
 dame D Arco and Senator Bortle, the latter 
 known to look unfavorably on the Cuban 
 pretensions, although her bow and smile 
 seemed to beckon the young man to her 
 side, and she asked him, when he came, if 
 he were too busy to walk down the Avenue 
 with her. He would have walked down the 
 Avenue with her if the whole business of all 
 the United States had come to a standstill. 
 
 But even walking down the Avenue 
 with her alone for she had sent Madame 
 D Arco home in the carriage was not an 
 unalloyed bliss, for as they swept along he 
 could not help noting strange glances of 
 recognition in Gloria s eyes as they passed 
 this or that dark stranger in the slouched 
 hat, twirling his big mustachios sulkily, and 
 more than once the hat was doffed and 
 the word was exchanged in passing. And 
 that these loungers, these filibustero-looking 
 [132] 
 
IN A CONSPIRACY 
 
 scamps, should have the right to speak to 
 her seemed a sort of sacrilege that he would 
 have liked to avenge on the spot. But then 
 he knew he would be content with nothing 
 less than taking her away into some far 
 region guarded by a flaming sword, as 
 Brunhilde s rock was guarded by fire. 
 
 " I rode this morning, and I have not 
 been in the saddle before for some weeks, 
 and it is good to walk," she said. 
 
 " Yes," he replied. " I rode too. I saw 
 you." 
 
 " And did not join us ? " 
 
 " Join riders who clasp each other s hands 
 as they ride ? " 
 
 She turned and looked at him a moment, 
 and then she laughed. " You might," she 
 said. " Alas, I shall not long have his hand 
 to clasp ! " .she added, the laugh disappearing 
 and a wave of something like anguish sweep 
 ing over the face, a wave of something like de 
 spair sweeping after it into Bentinck s heart. 
 
 She did not speak again for several min 
 utes, looking the other way. "At some 
 time I should like to have you know him," 
 she said at length. " But at present see 
 [133] 
 
OLD WASHINGTON 
 
 how I trust you at present there is a 
 price on his head. Still, he is tolerably safe 
 here, I suppose, safe until he reaches Cuban 
 waters. He is the person I love best." A 
 sword thrust seemed to divide Bentinck s 
 very being. " I mean - - perhaps oh, 
 yes, he is the one I love best in all the 
 world ! He is my brother, my dear brother 
 Virgilio." 
 
 The sword thrust healed and made itself 
 whole in the manner of a miracle. " God 
 bless your dear brother Virgilio ! " exclaimed 
 Bentinck. 
 
 She turned again, the sunshine of a swift 
 smile breaking through the tears that 
 brimmed her eyes, and impulsively held out 
 her hand. " Oh," she cried, " I am your 
 friend ! My hand upon it." And if the 
 passersby thought the movement extraordi 
 nary, they would any of them have been 
 glad to be a party to it. 
 
 " And you will ride with me some day ? " 
 he said. 
 
 " Ah, that is another question," she replied. 
 
 Just then the wind that was rising blew 
 out the flag from the top of the unfinished 
 [134] 
 
IN A CONSPIRACY 
 
 Monument, and the westering sun struck it 
 so that its dyes had a deepened splendor. 
 Bentinck saw it, and it shared with every 
 thing else in his feeling that to-day the uni 
 verse was something perfect. She saw his 
 glance. 
 
 " Yes," she said, " it is like a great flower 
 there, a great flower born out of the sky. 
 You love it ; you revere it ; you would die 
 for it. Then you know how I feel, how we 
 feel, for our own flag. Oh, yes, you must 
 come to me now and let me tell you the 
 whole story, its dark side dipped in blood, 
 its bright side oh, it has a bright side 
 white, white as the light on the souls of 
 heroes. Let me see. We dine with the 
 Chileans, and to-night it is the opera. After 
 the opera no, that will not do. Well, 
 sufficient unto the day I am not much 
 like your idea of a West Indian, am I ? " 
 she asked, looking at him with a lingering 
 sweetness of expression, the least color in 
 the world suffusing the beautiful paleness. 
 " That is because after I left the convent 
 over in Georgetown and Sister Blandine and 
 her harp, I was at Madame Chermodie s with 
 [135] 
 
OLD WASHINGTON 
 
 the society girls. She taught us charming 
 French, and which foot to put first for the 
 carriage step, and how to receive a gentle 
 man and his proposal. Ah, I am too 
 bold ! And we taught ourselves the rest, 
 the American habits and ways, the Ameri 
 can spirit. It was not difficult with our 
 mother too. But once every year while he 
 lived my dear father took us home to Cuba, 
 and sometimes we stayed long enough in 
 Havana to hate the Spaniard worse than 
 before, and sometimes we spent seasons 
 on the plantations among the mountains, 
 and we rode through the intendencias, he 
 and I and Virgilio, from end to end do 
 you know it is a land larger than Ireland ? 
 and he taught me that I am a Cuban and 
 never to forsake my country. And now we 
 have nothing, the coffee, the tobacco, the 
 cotton, all confiscated." And she threw out 
 her empty hands, palms downward. " We 
 should be beggars, Virgilio and I, but for 
 my aunt. And she is not quite sure that 
 we are not mad. All that we had has been 
 given to the cause. But judge if we love 
 Spain the more." 
 
 [136] 
 
IN A CONSPIRACY 
 
 " Love her ! " exclaimed Harry Bentinck. 
 " She is the remnant of the dark ages." 
 
 " I knew you would think so," she said, 
 giving him again the melting glance. " I 
 should never have dared talk to you so 
 freely had I not been sure of it. I felt it 
 that day I first saw you in the Senate cham 
 ber, and I myself as well as those senators 
 have read your speech." And then she re 
 peated in those liquid tones of hers, which 
 to Harry Bentinck s excited ears seemed 
 sweet as a flute bubbling over water, the 
 last paragraph of that speech of his. There 
 was nothing more for the Senorita Gloria 
 Campeador to do. 
 
 You may be sure that Mr. Harry Ben 
 tinck was at the opera that night. The 
 music fed his mood. I think it was Lucia, 
 and Christine Nilsson was singing it with a 
 divine abandonment of passion that suited 
 him. Flowers and feathers and jewels and 
 pretty faces put the dingy little National to 
 shame, and the young attaches down in the 
 front row stood up and surveyed the audi 
 ence through their opera glasses, and made 
 calls between the acts, and broke in a body 
 [137] 
 
OLD WASHINGTON 
 
 for a lower box when by one movement 
 every eye in the house was turned upon the 
 party entering there, and Gloria, shrouded 
 in black lace, stood there a moment like the 
 dark, contrasting shadow of the white beauty 
 on the stage. 
 
 If a queen had conferred knighthood on 
 Harry Bentinck, he would have felt less 
 honored than he did at the inclination of 
 that lovely head and the scarcely per 
 ceptible motion of the fan in his direction. 
 " I have some news that makes me very 
 happy," she murmured when he was beside 
 her. " I had half the mind to put on 
 my yellow satin, with my aunt s diamond 
 butterflies " 
 
 " I thought you were in mourning," he 
 said, taking her fan and opening and clos 
 ing it. 
 
 " For my country, only for Cuba and her 
 sorrows. My heart is so often heavy for 
 her. But sometimes I wear blue because it 
 is the national color. I swathe myself from 
 head to foot in it. But, alas," and she sighed 
 and she laughed, " blue is not becoming to 
 brunettes ! " 
 
 [138] 
 
IN A CONSPIRACY 
 
 " On the contrary, I should say that it 
 reveals and heightens their tints." 
 
 "Ah, well, I would do more than wear 
 blue for Cuba ! " she said, still gayly. " You 
 see, my heart is light to-night, for we hear 
 that the Hornito has made harbor and 
 landed her passengers and delivered her 
 cargo. That is good. It was rifles, that 
 cargo. And now there is more work to be 
 done more recruits, more guns - Ah, 
 listen ! How delicious, that white creature ! 
 An angel would sing that way. Tell me, 
 why are angels always so fair, so blond ? " 
 
 " I know one angel who is not blond," 
 exclaimed Harry Bentinck under cover of 
 the music. 
 
 " Come and see her, then, to-morrow night 
 at nine," she said airily. " You need not 
 send up your card. That is sometimes in 
 convenient. Simply come." And Harry 
 Bentinck felt that he was dismissed till 
 to-morrow night at nine. 
 
 Madame D Arco sat by the fire, as usual, 
 
 sipping chocolate that smelled of cinnamon 
 
 and musk, when on the stroke of nine he 
 
 appeared. There was little other light in 
 
 [139] 
 
OLD WASHINGTON 
 
 the room than firelight. Two men rose as he 
 entered. " My brother, Virgilio Campea- 
 dor," said Gloria. " He passes as my aunt s 
 courier, Johns. Johns was our mother s 
 name. She was American, you know. And 
 this is General Piers Petersen," as the tall, 
 gray-haired man reseated himself. She her 
 self took a low place near the hearth. Cam- 
 peador threw a stick upon the fire, and it 
 blazed up and illumined her face rosily a 
 moment, and left her like a gleaming ghost. 
 For the brief space 110 one spoke, and she 
 began singing a chansonette half under 
 her breath. "You wanted to hear about 
 Cuba," she said presently, breaking off her 
 song. "It is so sad I delay. How can I 
 tell you of it all ? The oppression, the in 
 famous laws, the impoverishing taxes, the 
 injustices they are bad enough " 
 
 " They are what we revolt against," said 
 Virgilio, quietly. 
 
 " The insults, the cruelties, the men 
 taken out and shot before their wives, the 
 mothers hunted in caves, the homes burned 
 in the making of those deserts they call 
 peace, the men bound to a stake and hacked 
 [140] 
 
IN A CONSPIRACY 
 
 to pieces with knives, the men beaten to 
 death in prison in the horrible componte ! " 
 She threw her hands up wildly, her voice 
 rising. " Oh, the sting of it all," she cried, 
 " the malignity, the helplessness, the misery, 
 the grief!" 
 
 " And what amazes one is the indifference 
 of the American," said Madame D Arco, 
 speaking for the first time, but in French. 
 " Three American boys are shot down in 
 Havana because they wear a blue ribbon 
 at their throats " 
 
 " In twenty years," cried Gloria, " the 
 American will not have avenged them ! " 
 
 " And the outrage of the Virginius you 
 endure it." 
 
 Mr. Bentinck felt as if he not only had 
 endured it, but had committed it. 
 
 " But, then, if the Americans endure it, 
 there are others who resent it. Look at 
 Piers Petersen here," said Virgilio. 
 
 " But, to be sure, General Piers Petersen 
 has spent his life avenging the wrongs of 
 others ! " cried Gloria again. " There has not 
 been a rebellion, not to say a riot, since he 
 came of age that he has not meddled with." 
 
OLD WASHINGTON 
 
 " I seem to be growing old now ; some 
 what tired," said the deep voice of the 
 General, with the lisp of one who more 
 frequently spoke soft southern tones than 
 ours. " I am sixty years old to-night." 
 
 " We will have cafe brule, then, to drink 
 your health and many a birthnight to 
 come," said Gloria. And while she was 
 ordering the coffee and the bowl and tray 
 the men began to speak more circumstan 
 tially concerning the chief matter of interest, 
 each supplementing the other with state 
 ment and proof, with one story after the 
 other, told half in whispers, of ravage and 
 pillage and persecution, of savage treachery 
 and merciless wrong, till Bentinck felt his 
 blood boil. " I myself saw it," said Virgilio. 
 " The Spaniard learns nothing. Three hun 
 dred years ago the Aztecs suffered at their 
 hands as we suffer in Cuba now. And 
 we, if they take us Piers Petersen and 
 I and others we shall be lucky if we 
 are simply shot like those boys on their 
 frolic." 
 
 "But do you not see a superior duty 
 here ? " asked the listener. " Do you for- 
 [142] 
 
IN A CONSPIRACY 
 
 get what your death would be to your 
 sister ? " 
 
 " Every drop of blood spilled cries to 
 heaven ! " exclaimed Virgilio. " But if I 
 have a sister, he has a wife. And, then 
 - who knows ? it may not be spilled. 
 If once we can command funds for an 
 armed ship, for men, for artillery, why, then 
 it will be our turn." 
 
 " Come ! " cried Gloria, and she had filled 
 the silver bowl upon the tray with the cafe 
 noir, emptying into it the contents of the 
 sugar basin, and was flourishing her allu- 
 mette, the flame catching the generous 
 brandy that she poured and running over 
 the bowl while she stood shining into some 
 thing weirdly and darkly beautiful, ladling 
 up and down what looked in the dimness of 
 the room like liquid fire. When it had all 
 burned out, she filled the little cups with 
 the intensely sweet and strong result of her 
 brewing, and they drank long life to the 
 General. 
 
 "And as many revolutions as there are 
 kingdoms of the earth," said Gloria as they 
 still stood about the table. "You must 
 [143] 
 
OLD WASHINGTON 
 
 know, Mr. Bentinck, that General Piers 
 Petersen would be undone if there were no 
 wrongs to right, no tyrannies to overthrow, 
 in this world. There is not a republic in 
 South America, born in his day, that he 
 has not assisted in the making. He was 
 with Walker in Nicaragua, with Fremont 
 in California. He was with Don Carlos in 
 Spain when they hung countesses to lamp 
 posts, the Spaniard, whether in revolt or 
 revolted against, always revolting ! He was 
 with Kossuth, and he swam down the Dan 
 ube on bladders, naked, with dispatches in 
 his mouth." As she spoke, an electric glow 
 seemed to kindle behind the eyes of the 
 General that burned bluer than blue dia 
 monds are. "He has the Cuban color in 
 his eyes ; and his blood it is the blue 
 blood ! " she cried. She filled the cups 
 again, and they went back and gathered 
 round the hearth, Virgilio talking, low 
 voiced and eager, Gloria every little while 
 emphasizing what he said, the General add 
 ing now and then a strident word. 
 
 " Oh, you sympathize, you feel for us, 
 you are one of us ! " she cried, her cheek 
 [144] 
 
IN A CONSPIRACY 
 
 flushed in the firelight, the tear sparkling 
 in her eye ; and she laid her hand on his a 
 moment. He took it and held it, and when 
 he left he bent and raised it to his lips, and 
 his eyes said all his lips dared not, and the 
 long-lashed, shining eyes of hers returned 
 the gaze one full moment and fell again, 
 and the soft red mouth trembled. And 
 under the influence of the beautiful girl 
 and her heroic impetuousness, of the ardent 
 and convincing eloquence, of the strange, in 
 toxicating draught, when Mr. Bentinck went 
 his way, at an hour well into morning, he 
 thought he understood the Cuban question 
 thoroughly, and he had promised to aid the 
 cause to the extent of the whole of his 
 power and the half of his fortune. 
 
 He was still under the glamour, still full 
 of the fervor of Gloria s enthusiasm when 
 the next day he sat in the committee room 
 sorting his mail, and in an angry amaze he 
 found his desk half covered with letters 
 from his constituents obeying the hint of 
 Senator Bortle, the junior senator from his 
 State, urging him, as he valued their sup 
 port and his future, to resist by every means 
 10 [ 145 ] 
 
OLD WASHINGTON 
 
 at his command the encroachments of the 
 Cuban sympathizers. 
 
 When Mr. Harry Bentinck entered poli 
 tics, he had, perhaps, no very definite aim. 
 He certainly did not expect to be President, 
 as he knew that, unless when accident drops 
 it on some great head to wear it like a 
 crown, the Presidency usually falls, from 
 long habit and necessity, not to the brilliant, 
 the ardent, the great, but to the man whose 
 colorless career has made no enemies ; to 
 the stupid, the cunning, or the obstinate ; to 
 the available. He had meant, however, 
 to be one of the senators of his State, first 
 of all ; feeling that no one on earth held 
 a prouder position than the senator of a 
 sovereign State. After that he would at 
 some time be called to the cabinet, and he 
 would make his fame and achieve his pur 
 pose in shaping the policy of the nation to 
 his will. 
 
 When he was weary of that, either the 
 people would have abolished the diplomatic 
 body altogether, relying on the consular ser 
 vice, or they would have raised certain posts 
 to an ambassadorial rank, and he would pass 
 [146] 
 
IN A CONSPIRACY 
 
 some years in plenipotentiary power abroad ; 
 not a position that would allow him to be 
 a dining and wining and speechmaking 
 figurant, with the real business transacted 
 over his head between the Foreign Office 
 abroad and the State Department at home, 
 but one requiring the best skill and knowl 
 edge and courage. He did not by any 
 means think of himself in a small way, it 
 will be seen ; but it was a sense of con 
 scious power that possessed him, and not 
 in the least one of personal vanity. 
 
 Possibly this unforrnulated thought, this 
 sense of conscious power, was so strong in 
 him that the letters of his constituents failed 
 to produce the effect that had been intended. 
 They were filed away unanswered for the 
 present. He had better business in hand. 
 It did not occur to him that he was sacri 
 ficing his future to a passion, that a poli 
 tician needs a foothold in a constituency, 
 and no statesman can do anything in the 
 beginning unless he is raised on the shoul 
 ders of the people. All he thought was 
 that he was not a man to fail ; that if one 
 thing were not possible, another was ; and 
 [147] 
 
OLD WASHINGTON 
 
 that, for the rest, the love of Gloria Cam- 
 peador was worth all else that destiny had 
 to offer. And he had reached the point 
 where he was no longer content with just 
 the bliss of being allowed to love : he was 
 determined to be loved again. 
 
 But now affairs were not standing still. 
 On the contrary, they were moving with 
 rapidity. Fiery spirits who burned for ad 
 venture or distinction were every day com 
 ing to the front, and arms were purchased 
 and negotiations made ; for whatever might 
 be suspected of Miss Campeador s political 
 activity, with a sort of public secrecy, it 
 was generally regarded as the enthusiasm of 
 a pretty woman whose social position was 
 not to be ignored. Those who, by means 
 of their agents, knew all things, had reasons 
 for keeping their knowledge to themselves, 
 and she and her friends had great latitude 
 of initiatory movement. Later the strong 
 hand might interfere. 
 
 It was at the dinner of a high foreign 
 
 functionary, who might not even at this 
 
 day care to have his name mentioned, that 
 
 Mr. Bentinck, taking out another lady, found 
 
 [148] 
 
IN A CONSPIRACY 
 
 himself seated beside Gloria. She was in 
 dark blue velvet streaming with cut crys 
 tals like sapphires, with here and there a 
 big diamond, glittering from head to foot 
 like the summer sky in the dead of the 
 dark. The melancholy of her mien and 
 expression heightened the rapture of beauty 
 that made the young man almost tremble 
 as he looked at her. She was very silent, 
 with an air half distrait, as if she were alert 
 and listening for one knew not what. 
 
 " He goes to-night," she murmured by and 
 by to Bentinck, as she crumbled her bread. 
 " My Virgilio ! You will come round ? Oh, 
 yes," she said, her head slightly bending 
 toward him, her voice so low that only one 
 used to its inflections could distinguish the 
 words. " All is ready. A part sail from 
 Key West, a part from Charleston, and they 
 rendezvous, as it was arranged, you know. 
 Nothing is changed. And - " Her vis-a-vis 
 at the table, a severe and stately dame, 
 opened her eyes just then to see the young 
 woman empty her wineglass at a draught ; 
 but she said to herself that one should be 
 surprised at nothing these Creole women do. 
 [149] 
 
OLD WASHINGTON 
 
 And of course Mr. Bentinck went round. 
 Madame D Arco, weeping, lay back in her 
 chair, looking like a big bundle of gor 
 geous rags. Gloria was in an inner room 
 with Virgilio. Presently she came out with 
 him. She had torn off her glittering dinner- 
 dress, and wore a long, loose-flowing gar 
 ment of some diaphanous, dark blue tissue. 
 She was clinging to her brother s arm. But 
 she stopped halfway to the door, pressing 
 one hand across her eyes. " Oh, my Vir 
 gilio ! " she exclaimed. " How can I bear 
 it!" 
 
 " For our country, for the future, for my 
 future ! " he murmured. 
 
 She drew down his head, kissing his 
 forehead, and threw herself upon his breast 
 with a storm of sobs, her hair falling from 
 its comb and enveloping her in its black 
 cloud. 
 
 There came a rap upon the door ; her 
 brother loosened the clenched hands, still 
 holding them, and turned to Madame 
 D Arco, who, a fountain pouring rivers of 
 tears in silence, had risen to embrace him. 
 Then once more he took Gloria in his arms. 
 [150J 
 
IN A CONSPIRACY 
 
 "Oh, mother of God!" she cried. "If 
 you should not come back, Virgilio ! " 
 
 "Do not let her faint," he said to Ben- 
 tinck. "I had best go now." He looked 
 at Harry fixedly a moment. " I leave her 
 to you," he said, and was gone. 
 
 And Bentinck took her, too sacred in her 
 sorrow to think of that moment in relation 
 to himself, and laid her on the lounge, while 
 Madame D Arco bustled after some salts. 
 She lay there quietly till the clock seemed 
 to startle her with its stroke. She slow r ly 
 opened her eyes, full of gloom, of grief, 
 and of tenderness, and looked at him kneel 
 ing beside her. 
 
 " I have no one left but you ! " she said. 
 And then, in spite of himself, he bent and 
 kissed her faltering lips. There was nothing 
 said of love or marriage ; her head lay on 
 his shoulder, he clasped her in his arms, 
 a long hour of trance. Madame D Arco 
 slept, more or less audibly, in her chair, 
 worn out with emotion. 
 
 At length he laid the girl gently back 
 upon the cushions and pulled over her the 
 cloak of sables lying there, and stepping 
 [151] 
 
OLD WASHINGTON 
 
 across the room touched Madame D Arco s 
 hand and roused her, since when he was 
 gone the door should be locked. "Let her 
 sleep," he said. " To-morrow I shall have a 
 petition to make to you. Sleep well, your 
 self, dear madame, and good angels guard 
 you." 
 
 Gloria kept a dreamless slumber the rest 
 of that night, but stirred at dawn and went 
 to her own room. When later in the day 
 she woke, her maid had come in and filled 
 the place with white roses ; but the flowers 
 that lay upon her pillow were a stem of 
 orange blossoms. 
 
 When Mr. Bentinck appeared at the 
 Arlington that afternoon the world had 
 turned ever so slightly upon its axis. Gloria 
 was no longer in tears, but radiant. The 
 carriage was waiting for her, and she was 
 going to lunch with some South Americans, 
 her dress of white cloth braided in silver 
 hidden by her enveloping cloak, but her 
 white picture-hat very much in evidence, 
 with its high flaring brim overtopped by big 
 bunches of white ostrich plumes. All her 
 dashing coquetry had returned to her 
 [152] 
 
IN A CONSPIRACY 
 
 whether she thought nothing could have 
 happened to Virgilio yet, or whether her 
 gayety was assumed to mislead suspicion as 
 to his departure. 
 
 " Your flowers are sweet. They always 
 are," she said. " But, au reste I must 
 have time to consider. I cannot take ad 
 vantage, you know," she said with an inti 
 mate sweetness, "of your sympathy, your 
 compassion. So you are pledged to nothing 
 -to nothing, that is, but Cuba." 
 
 And then the soft and brilliant smile 
 seemed to belie the words. She gave him 
 her hand in farewell ; but she came back 
 again, saying, " You are not offended ? You 
 are always my friend ? " 
 
 " No ! " he said. " I will not be your 
 friend. I will be your lover, your husband, 
 or nothing ! " 
 
 "But you will be Cuba s friend ? " she 
 said, looking anxiously in his face. And 
 then she tiptoed, for tall as she was he was 
 taller, and kissed him on the mouth, and 
 was away. And whether she was his be 
 trothed or not, the bewildered Mr. Bentinck 
 was not able to say. And it so happened, 
 [153] 
 
OLD WASHINGTON 
 
 or was so arranged, that he did not see her 
 alone again for several days. 
 
 Nevertheless Mr. Bentinck contrived to 
 be present wherever the beautiful Cuban 
 went ; for his attractive personality, his 
 wealth, his apparent possibilities, had made 
 him a favorite in society, and he had not 
 yet had to ask for anything, so ready was 
 every one to confer. He felt a strong desire 
 to surround her now with his own people ; 
 and he was surprised when, having sent a 
 note to Mrs. MacMichael, a personage of 
 the gay world and the wife of his old Sen 
 ator, to receive in reply her card, saying she 
 was waiting for him in her carriage, and to 
 have her begin as soon as he was seated 
 beside her, " Now, what is all this I hear ? 
 And what does your note mean ? And why 
 should I call on a Spanish adventuress ? " 
 
 " She is not an adventuress, she is not 
 Spanish, and there is no reason why you 
 should call if you do not wish, and I will 
 bid you good morning," he said, putting his 
 hand on the carriage door. 
 
 " Stop, you hotheaded fellow ! " said 
 Mrs. MacMichael, cheerfully. " Are n t you 
 [154] 
 
IN A CONSPIRACY 
 
 ashamed of yourself? Who has been your 
 friend the longer, I or Miss Campcador ? " 
 
 "Mrs. MacMichael, if you wish me to 
 listen to you, you will leave Miss Cam- 
 peador s name out of the conversation." 
 
 "Is it really so bad as that?" she said. 
 "You poor boy. I really don t know if 
 there is such a pitiable thing going as an 
 unmarried man without a sister or any other 
 feminine adviser. If you had a mother, or 
 even a mother-in-law but there is no help 
 for it. I shall have to be a mother-in-law 
 to you for the nonce ; you are one of the 
 Senator s boys, you know. I must ask you, 
 I must implore you, not to ruin your whole 
 outlook by this madness ! You know very 
 well," she went on, in spite of his effort to 
 prevent her, " you know very well you are 
 in training for MacMichael s place and it 
 may fall to you sooner than you think. But 
 you will never have it you will not even 
 be returned to your seat in the House if 
 you offend the people at home. They are 
 powerful enemies, and their interests, Mac- 
 Michael says, are the interests of your dis 
 trict. Of course their agent here has had 
 [155] 
 
OLD WASHINGTON 
 
 his eyes on you, and has kept them informed, 
 as it is. But you can stop just where you 
 are. What is a flirtation more or less ? 
 Now, my dear boy," continued Mrs. Mac- 
 Michael, still a very pretty woman herself, 
 laying her hand on his arm, "there are a 
 million pretty women in the world, foreign 
 and domestic. Why throw away a whole 
 lifetime and its splendid possibilities on sim 
 ply one of them ? " 
 
 " Mrs. MacMichael, you and I are too 
 long and too dear friends to quarrel," said 
 Harry Bentinck, his face downcast and 
 flushing, the face that was so exactly like 
 the armless Hermes that there had been 
 quite a sale for the cast since he came to 
 Washington. "But it is not worth while 
 to say any more. I am not authorized, 
 you are not authorized, to use this young 
 lady s name. But the question behind all 
 the matter is one that has been brought to 
 my attention, and has been decided on its 
 own merits 
 
 "Oh!" said Mrs. MacMichael, derisively. 
 
 " I should be unable to be an American," 
 he exclaimed, " and believe in the divine 
 [156] 
 
IN A CONSPIRACY 
 
 right of the people if I did not sympathize 
 with the heroes - 
 
 " Oh, it is hopeless ! " said Mrs. Mac- 
 Michael. " I suppose there are no Spanish 
 heroes, no Spanish rights " 
 
 " None that I know of," said Harry 
 Bentinck. 
 
 " Of course not." 
 
 " And if there were, I am not concerned 
 with them." 
 
 "And you believe the statements of the 
 unsupported, irresponsible insurgents, these 
 knight errants of vagrant patriotism, rather 
 than the evidence of your own senses regard 
 ing the rich and populous and flourishing 
 dependency whose commerce shows its good 
 government ! I heard the Senator say so." 
 
 " Revolution is unknown under good gov 
 ernment. And nothing was ever well- 
 governed by Spain. Have not all the South 
 Americas escaped from her bondage ? Has 
 she not driven out of her borders every one 
 who ever had intelligence, or large thought, 
 or any capacity the Moor when he had 
 most of the learning of the world ; the Jew 
 with his wealth ; the Protestant with his in- 
 [157] 
 
OLD WASHINGTON 
 
 tellect ? Is she not still in the narrow ruts 
 of her bigotry? Would it surprise you to 
 see the Inquisition set up again in a land 
 where they still cling passionately to the 
 bullfight ? " 
 
 " How can you talk so of a people with 
 whom we are at peace ? And the Spanish 
 minister and his wife are charming, are 
 most estimable ! I dined with them last 
 week." 
 
 " They are to be promoted for their effi 
 cient work of that sort, I hear." 
 
 Mrs. MacMichael looked out of the win 
 dow in some perplexity. " Well," she 
 said, " I did n t come to argue with you. I 
 came to ask you to drive with me to Miss 
 Campeador s." 
 
 " With pleasure, provided you do not 
 speak to her of 
 
 "What do you think of me? That I 
 would ask a young lady not to marry 
 you ? " 
 
 " It might be as well to wait till you knew 
 that I myself had asked her to do so." 
 
 " Then it is not a fixed then you have 
 
 not " 
 
 [158] 
 
IN A CONSPIRACY 
 
 " One thing that I have done is to give 
 notice that I shall to-morrow ask the atten 
 tion of the House to some remarks upon a 
 resolution in favor of according belligerent 
 rights to the Cubans." 
 
 " I think we will drive home. Johnson 
 home ! " And Mrs. MacMichael threw 
 herself back in the corner of the carriage 
 and did not speak till it drew up before the 
 K street house, and Mr. Bentinck sprang out 
 and took off his hat and offered her his hand 
 to descend. 
 
 " How very silly you are ! " she said then. 
 " How very silly we both are ! Come back. 
 I am going to the Arlington." 
 
 And at the Arlington it turned out that 
 the young Creole s mother, Virginia Johns, 
 had been the dear schoolgirl friend of Mrs. 
 MacMichael s youth. And on the day of 
 Mr. Bentinck s speech there would have 
 been no more excited and enthusiastic lis 
 tener than Mrs. MacMichael, who, had she 
 dared risk her husband s good report at home, 
 would have had Gloria Campeador beside 
 her in the gallery, and would have sent 
 to Mr. Bentinck the great bunch of roses 
 [159] 
 
OLD WASHINGTON 
 
 which she carried, and would have taken 
 them both home to dine with her, and to 
 hear a long dissertation from the Senator, 
 who, having decided not to stand for an 
 other term, would have been better pleased 
 if Harry Bentinck had not made himself an 
 impossible successor. 
 
 " I have had news," said Gloria, meeting 
 him radiantly a few mornings afterwards. 
 "It is only a scrap that Virgilio has sent 
 me. They are off. Oh, I have said all 
 my prayers ! And now I must go tell my 
 news. General Piers Petersen left his wife 
 here, did you know? He thought he had 
 done with filibustering, and he married over 
 here a little woman with a plantation. Well, 
 the war knocked all that to pieces. But 
 then he had the war, you know, and that al 
 most paid him. He snuffed delight of battle. 
 I am on my way to see her. Are you going 
 with me ? It is a shame that I should live 
 at the Arlington and dress like a princess - 
 but it is my aunt, my aunt who has the 
 money and who maintains that I serve the 
 cause better so, and who does n t care so 
 much about the cause anyway as she does 
 [160] 
 
IN A CONSPIRACY 
 
 about me a shame, and the dear little 
 Piers Petersen woman living at the top of a 
 lodging house. I have been so busy convert 
 ing senators and secretaries I have not had 
 time to see her." 
 
 It was quite at the top of Mrs. McQueen s 
 extension that they found Mrs. Piers Peter- 
 sen in a little hall-chamber. She was wrapped 
 in a shawl, for there was no fire ; but she was 
 rosy and smiling. " I had to let you up," 
 she said, "for I didn t know but you had 
 news. I am always hoping to hear that 
 recruits have rendezvoused on the Central 
 American shores, and that some millionnaire 
 has given us a couple of swift cruisers with 
 guns, and that we have broken down the 
 coastguard and carried all before us. Have 
 you news ? As for me, I never have. The 
 General never writes ; he just appears ; usu 
 ally he has just failed again." 
 
 " Is this is this - " began Gloria. 
 
 " How I live ? Yes. But then, you 
 know, I am just waiting. It is that is - 
 I mean I " and she suddenly began to 
 cry. " Oh, what sort of thing is this for a 
 soldier s wife ! But but you know 
 11 [ 161 ] 
 
OLD WASHINGTON 
 
 your nerves might give out, too, if you had 
 eaten nothing but apples for a week - 
 
 " Stop a moment ! " exclaimed Gloria. 
 " Do you mean to say that you have eaten 
 nothing but apples for a week ? Then I 
 will eat nothing but apples for a week ! " 
 
 "You foolish child," said Mrs. Piers 
 Petersen, who, being the wife of a soldier, 
 was superior to the unmarried maid, even if 
 she were the sister of a soldier, and superior 
 anyway by reason of the starvation on 
 apples, " don t you see that the apple busi 
 ness is my monopoly ? " and she laughed in 
 the midst of her tears, like a child. 
 
 " Well, we can t encourage monopolies," 
 said Gloria, gayly, "we who are all for 
 freedom. And so you will come out and 
 have lunch with me. And- 
 
 " No. You may lend me a little money 
 if you will. But I will stay here. He will 
 expect to find me here." 
 
 " All the money you want. And I will 
 tell you my good news as we go." 
 
 " You have good news ? Then I don t 
 want the money ! I will comfort me with 
 apples until he comes. He always comes." 
 [162] 
 
IN A CONSPIRACY 
 
 " I think we shall have to take this into 
 our own hands," said Mr. Bentinck. 
 
 And the little woman had no choice but 
 to go with them for a lunch and an after 
 noon of Faust, and when she came home 
 her room was filled with hyacinths and tu 
 lips, and under the tulips was a little stack 
 of gold pieces, which she saved religiously 
 for the time when the General should come 
 and find her there. 
 
 But zealously concerned as Mr. Bentinck 
 had become in the cause for which he had 
 hazarded so much, he was considerably more 
 concerned about himself. That Gloria was 
 simply making use of him, was trolling him 
 and his influence along in creating capital for 
 her cause, and that she was capable of throw 
 ing him over like a flower she had worn till 
 it withered, when it suited her purposes, had 
 indeed crossed his mind. And then he had 
 reproached himself for his unfaithful fancies 
 regarding this pure and ardent creature, who 
 had refused to allow him to be pledged, and 
 yet gave him such absolute confidence. 
 
 He had remembered, too, that in matters 
 of marriage there is far more reserve in the 
 [163] 
 
OLD WASHINGTON 
 
 habits of the Spanish- American people than 
 in our own ; and he assured himself that she 
 was his, that she had sealed the unspoken 
 promise with her lips, remembrance of which 
 moment made his heart stand still a sec 
 ond, and in the abasement over his ill-doing 
 he redoubled his silent devotion and asked 
 nothing but to be allowed to serve her. 
 He went about his congressional duties ab 
 stractedly, and when any of the men he 
 met essayed to jest with him on the sub 
 ject of the reports they heard, their jests 
 glanced off his unconsciousness like missent 
 arrows. 
 
 He was, however, aware that his col 
 leagues had begun to look at him with that 
 easy contempt which men have for one who 
 abandons the obvious and material for the 
 immaterial ; but it only made him shrug his 
 shoulders and think there were better things 
 than their material, and resolve that he 
 would have their material and his im 
 material too. 
 
 And in the meantime he danced with 
 Gloria. He dined with her ; he took after 
 noon walks and he took afternoon chocolate 
 [164] 
 
IN A CONSPIRACY 
 
 with her ; and they often went across to 
 Mrs. MacMichael s for the hour before twi 
 light. They were there together one day, 
 and the Senator had come in and had been 
 chaffing Harry a little about his wasted 
 opportunities. 
 
 " You will have to be picking out a place 
 abroad, Bentinck," he said. " There s noth 
 ing on this side for you. Bortle has cooked 
 your goose. You 11 find it easier to resign 
 your seat than to face your friends at home. 
 You can t have London or Paris ; they re 
 occupied. And you re too young. But I 
 suppose you could get Spain," he said 
 
 slyly. 
 
 " Do you imagine we would go to that 
 unnameable country ? " cried Gloria. And 
 the " we " made Harry s pulses leap. She 
 had never been more beautiful than she was 
 at that moment. The excitement under 
 which she lived, for she was hourly expect 
 ing word which should already have come 
 from Virgilio, kept her eyes burning and her 
 ivory pallor warm with an added life. 
 
 The day had been one of the delicious 
 days that often come to Washington in mid- 
 [165] 
 
OLD WASHINGTON 
 
 winter, like spring days wandering back 
 ward, filling the air with rich earth scents 
 and touching the buds to swelling, the soft 
 wind seeming to blow out of some unknown 
 region of Paradise, and at its close, at last, in 
 a dreamy mist, a thundergust had gathered 
 and had broken while they waited here ; and 
 then the sunset had burst over the high 
 heaven, as if a vast ruby had let out its 
 secret, transfiguring the pillared marbles and 
 making the dome of the Capitol only a rosy 
 cloud. 
 
 The crimson light fell through the draw 
 ing-room windows and kindled what seemed 
 a new depth in Gloria s smile, and made 
 one think of Galatea glowing from marble 
 to flesh. 
 
 She turned to look out at the splendor of 
 light and exclaimed, as a carriage at that 
 moment stopped below, " Why, there is my 
 aunt ! And who - - why, it is the little 
 apple-woman. Oh, it is General Piers 
 Petersen ! He is back so soon They 
 have failed ! They have failed ! And 
 where, where, where is Virgilio ? " 
 
 Almost as she spoke Madame D Arco was 
 [166] 
 
IN A CONSPIRACY 
 
 in the room, majestic that moment with 
 love, with grief, with compassion, her arms 
 outstretched to Gloria, and the General 
 towering behind her. 
 
 Gloria flung out her hands as if to ward 
 them off. " I know it all ! " she cried, as if 
 that might hinder them. 
 
 " Yes," said the General, and was silent. 
 
 " My Gloria, my Gloria ! " sobbed Madame 
 D Arco. 
 
 " Tell her, tell her, General ! " cried his 
 wife. "Oh, Mrs. MacMichael ! " 
 
 " There was treachery," said the General, 
 his voice deep with strange intonations. 
 " The boat was scuttled. As we rose on 
 the roller in sight of shore she filled. Some 
 of us reached the Key and were taken off 
 by a passing schooner. That is how I am 
 here. But he there must have been a 
 blow he sank he was thrown ashore. 
 I myself heaped the sands over that head." 
 And Gloria fell to the floor, as if the treach 
 erous blow that slew Virgilio had struck her 
 -as the statue she had that instant seemed 
 might have fallen. 
 
 It was a week before they could tell 
 [167] 
 
OLD WASHINGTON 
 
 Harry Bentinck that Gloria would live. 
 The congressional world saw nothing of him 
 in that time ; he spent the greater part of it 
 in walking up and down Mrs. MacMichael s 
 drawing-rooms. But when that message 
 was brought to him he bade Mrs. Mac- 
 Michael good-by and disappeared, and 
 General Piers Petersen disappeared with 
 him. 
 
 He went at once to Baltimore and found 
 a yacht, which happened to be in com 
 mission for a Mediterranean cruise, and 
 taking the necessary people and appurte 
 nances along, sailed directly for the Key 
 where Virgilio was buried, finding it with 
 little difficulty, evading a Spanish gunboat s 
 interest in the proceeding, and returning 
 with what he sought encased in triple steel. 
 
 And then there was a solemn requiem 
 mass in St. Matthew s, with the whole 
 splendor of the Church and its music ; with 
 the chiefs of the Cuban Junta and certain 
 high dignitaries in attendance ; and out in 
 the Rock Creek burial-ground Harry Ben 
 tinck placed one long palm-branch on the 
 young hero s grave and a wreath, every star 
 [168] 
 
IN A CONSPIRACY 
 
 of which was a blossom of the Flower of 
 the Holy Ghost. 
 
 Gloria lay on a lounge surrounded by the 
 flowers he had sent her, armfuls of white 
 lilacs, white herself as the death she had 
 escaped, her long hair streaming almost to 
 her feet, when, the day after this, he was 
 admitted to her presence. 
 
 She looked at him a moment, saying 
 nothing, and giving him her thin hand ; and 
 then the eyelids fell and two great tears 
 welled out. He would have kissed them 
 away, but he dared not. He was not very 
 certain of his own standing in those days. 
 He only touched with his lips the finger-tips 
 of the hand he held. And he presently 
 told her of the yesterday s music and of the 
 grave. He had the choir come the next 
 day and sing for her a part of the music, the 
 doors open from room to room, the voice of 
 a prima donna who was then in town soar 
 ing like a rising soul through it all. He 
 came again the following morning, sitting 
 in a low seat by the lounge, and told her of 
 the voyage and of the reef and the long roll 
 of the Caribbean waters that had entombed 
 [169] 
 
OLD WASHINGTON 
 
 Virgilio, where the sapphire deepened to 
 amethyst, and broke to beryl, and powdered 
 in diamond spray upon the coral rock. 
 
 And on another day he brought her a 
 miniature he had had painted from a photo 
 graph of Virgilio that Mrs. Piers Petersen 
 had. He came every afternoon and stayed 
 as long as he could make excuse. He 
 longed for her to confess herself able to 
 drive out, in those vernal days when the im 
 mense sky of Washington is full of the high 
 white light, and the air is full of the 
 sweetness of green grass and violets and 
 hyacinths and spring life. 
 
 But one day he went in with more deter 
 mination. Her life perhaps depended on it, 
 he said ; he would allow no false delicacy to 
 stand in the way. Mrs. MacMichael went 
 into the adjoining room where Madame 
 D Arco was sitting. "I think," he said 
 gently to Gloria, "that it is absolutely 
 necessary you should have a change. If 
 you stay here you will never recover - 
 
 " I do not know that I want to recover," 
 she sighed. 
 
 " I want you to do so," he said. " And 
 [170] 
 
IN A CONSPIRACY 
 
 you must come away with me for it. You 
 must break off all these associations. You 
 must put the mourning, the past, behind 
 you. You must come over seas and begin 
 a new life with me, Gloria." 
 
 Tears swam up as she lay there, and 
 clouded the splendor of the great black eyes. 
 " There is something I will say to you," she 
 said slowly, after a little while. " Perhaps 
 when you have heard it you will want 
 nothing more of me. I have put the past 
 behind me, as you say ; my brother, till I 
 see him again ; the freedom of Cuba till a 
 more fortunate day. But that is not it. 
 You must not look at me or I cannot say 
 it! It is this: When I first let you love 
 me when I when you when I kissed 
 you I did not love you. Oh, it is shame 
 to me ! I thought only of my country, and 
 I thought of what your influence might be 
 in delaying hostile action ; in intimidating 
 the Administration ever so little and giving 
 us time ; in bringing other friends in your 
 train ; in adding to our strength and num 
 bers. And I thought of your money and 
 of our need of gunboats and of guns. I 
 [ 171 ] 
 
OLD WASHINGTON 
 
 thought nothing of you almost nothing, 
 that is. You see, I did not love you then. 
 I let you think I did. You can never trust 
 me again. And now, now, I will tell you 
 it is shame, it is humiliation, and you can 
 cast me off if you will but I love you 
 with my whole heart and soul ! " And the 
 next moment the face that she had turned 
 to the wall was caught back between his 
 hands and was covered with his kisses, and 
 life was pouring through all her veins again. 
 
 There was a very private ceremony at 
 Mrs. Mac Michael s not long after that ; 
 and Mrs. Harry Bentinck took a certain 
 proud pleasure in making a wedding 
 journey to Havana, where, as the wife of an 
 American Member of Congress, very beauti 
 ful, veiy languid, very sumptuously arrayed, 
 she could defy all the power of Spain with 
 impunity. 
 
 It was not, however, a long visit, for it 
 was not altogether safe ; and besides that, 
 she had no idea of her husband s resigning 
 his seat in Congress. On the whole, the 
 Cuban business had given him credit both 
 for enthusiasm and sincerity ; it was under- 
 [172] 
 
IN A CONSPIRACY 
 
 stood that he was owned by none of the 
 great interests. Having occasion to do 
 some important service for the Adminis 
 tration before his term was over, he had a 
 powerful backing when he went in for Mr. 
 MacMichael s seat in the Senate and won. 
 
 Mrs. Harry Bentinck carried matters with 
 rather a high hand during her husband s 
 senatorial service ; and sometimes when she 
 met the wife of the Spanish Minister there 
 seemed to be battle royal in the air for a 
 moment; averted, however, by the sweet 
 frigidity that reduced the surrounding tem 
 perature below the necessary heat of con 
 flict. But the latter years have been passed 
 abroad, where her husband has held impor 
 tant posts, and where, whenever there has 
 been a chance to throw a strong light upon 
 Spanish policies, she has not wasted the 
 opportunity. 
 
 I met Mrs. Harry Bentinck the other day 
 in Washington, as beautiful, as imperial as 
 ever, and it brought her story to mind. I 
 hardly thought she had come over with the 
 simple purpose of seeing her children, who 
 are here at school in the resolve that they 
 [173] 
 
OLD WASHINGTON 
 
 shall be reared only as Americans. And 
 one may be quite sure that, whatever may 
 be going on to-day in Cuban affairs, Gloria 
 is in the midst of it, and if, during the 
 recent war, a much-talked-of note from the 
 concerted foreign powers was never deliv 
 ered to our Government, it is not at all 
 impossible that it was because Mrs. Harry 
 Bentinck laid a detaining finger on it. 
 
 [174] 
 
IV 
 
 A Little Old Woman 
 
A Little Old Woman 
 
 MRS. SPENCE had come up from 
 Mississippi, and after many vicis 
 situdes was at last occupying a 
 hall chamber at Mrs. McQueen s boarding- 
 house, where Beau, her man-servant, had 
 some occasional occupation. 
 
 Once Mrs. Spence had been a beauty 
 a dark and gentle beauty, with a spark in 
 the darkness. Now the rose had withered, 
 the eyelid drooped ; she had come to look 
 like the cameo she had worn, where, behind 
 the white outlines cut to exquisite thinness 
 on the black onyx, a flame seemed to burn 
 with tremulous restlessness. Her manners 
 were those of some sceptreless queen relying 
 on tradition of old and gentle authority, and 
 her broken voice had in it the sweetness of 
 a flute. 
 
 Her business in Washington had relation 
 to a claim for damages to her late husband s 
 
 property on the South Fork of the Big 
 12 [ 177 ] 
 
OLD WASHINGTON 
 
 Ocala, where a detachment of Federal 
 troops had destroyed crops, scattered slaves, 
 and burned buildings business that she 
 was about as well fitted to conduct as any 
 little black fly might have been. 
 
 It would appear that, the alluvial deposit 
 along the South Fork of the Big Ocala 
 being fifty feet deep and of an inexhaustible 
 richness, never were such crops raised else 
 where ; and surely there never was such a 
 home as the white mansion, with its pillared 
 porches set high among magnolias and 
 live-oaks, above thickets of crape-myrtle. 
 In the evenings and at the table Mrs. 
 Spence spoke concerning these things, and 
 sometimes also concerning the excellences 
 of Major Spence, hinting rather than en 
 larging. Perhaps she could not enlarge 
 upon the subject of Major Spence to stran 
 gers ; all the less if by chance there were in 
 her subliminal consciousness the least flaw 
 in the godship of the god. 
 
 But every one believed her ; those of the 
 
 South because, of course, it must have been 
 
 so; and those of the North because long 
 
 reverence for that sort of superior thing 
 
 [178] 
 
A LITTLE OLD WOMAN 
 
 made it difficult to doubt ; and all because 
 of the truth and innocence marking the 
 little old woman. And when one adven 
 turous person hazarded a question as to 
 whether her three hundred acres on the Big 
 Ocala were more than a patch on a wheat- 
 field forty miles square that he had seen on 
 the Pacific coast, the house rose in her 
 defence ; and none more vigorously than 
 did Miss Sarah Woodbury, a haughty 
 young woman from Massachusetts, and 
 Miss Raleigh Cumnor, a haughtier young 
 lady from Virginia. 
 
 Miss Sarah, desiring a warmer climate for 
 her throat, and hearing that women were 
 employed in the Departments, had trusted 
 in what was vaguely called influence, had 
 drawn her little hoard from the savings- 
 bank, and had come down to try her for 
 tunes in Washington. And Miss Raleigh, 
 believing that a person from the State which 
 was the mother of Presidents had a right to 
 whatever she would condescend to accept, 
 had some time ago secured a position. 
 
 Giving gage of battle on other subjects, 
 these young ladies united in defence of Mrs. 
 
OLD WASHINGTON 
 
 Spence s plantation from any Pacific-coast 
 aspersion. And Miss Sarah invited the lit 
 tle lady to warm her feet at her open fire, 
 thinking at first that she would improve her 
 guest s mind with a chapter from Thoreau, 
 but deciding that she would rummage up 
 and darn her stockings instead, while their 
 owner excitedly told over again her histories. 
 
 " Major Spence," said Mrs. Spence, just 
 before rising to go, warmed with her mem 
 ories and her listeners interest, " was a man 
 of high standards. It it pains me some 
 times to think that perhaps in the later 
 years I did not altogether reach them." 
 
 Miss Raleigh followed her to the hall 
 bedroom with a glass of hot sangaree. It 
 was one of those nights when, after the 
 fruit has flowered, the wind wheels round 
 into the north and blows as if the unseen 
 agencies of cold had a spite against all the 
 light and lustre and leafiness, the perfume 
 and warmth of spring in Washington. 
 "It s mighty tasty after you re in bed," 
 said Miss Raleigh, stirring the sangaree. 
 "Now, I ll put out your gas deed I 
 will ! " And she kissed her ^ood-night. 
 [180] 
 
A LITTLE OLD WOMAN 
 
 " There ain t any one kissed me," Mrs. 
 Spence cried after her, in a faltering tone, 
 " since before the wah. I reckon you 
 mustn t kiss me again; it s just too 
 exciting ! " 
 
 Miss Raleigh did kiss her again, and at 
 once. Miss Sarah might have thought it 
 was the sangaree that was exciting, but Miss 
 Raleigh knew it was the kiss. 
 
 " I declare," said Miss Sarah, when the 
 other returned, "it is all on such a scale 
 that if it was n t for that California man I 
 wouldn t believe there was any place at 
 all ! " 
 
 " She believes it," said Miss Raleigh, nod 
 ding her bright head emphatically. 
 
 " You re so sure of it you almost make 
 me believe it too." 
 
 " My gracious ! If the Nohth and Sooth 
 had had us to settle it there would n t have 
 been any wah ! " 
 
 " No. You can wile a bird from off a 
 bough. How do you do it ? " 
 
 "Oh, conjuh. " 
 
 " I remember thinking when I first saw 
 you," said Miss Sarah, shaking out her 
 [181] 
 
OLD WASHINGTON 
 
 work, "that you had the sweetest little 
 accent " 
 
 " Oh, accent ! I m so tired hearing about 
 accent ! Why is n t it you that have the 
 accent ? " 
 
 "Well, accent or not, it s charming - 
 all your innocent short a s, and r s turned 
 into h s, and the lost digammas of your 
 final g s, and your sweet, musical drawl." 
 
 " I m not sure if you re insultin or not. 
 But what a heap you know ! " cried Miss 
 Raleigh. " Oh, your broad a s and things 
 seem so unfinished, and certainly a descend 
 ant of the Cumnors, of Cumnor Hall - 
 
 " Come to that, and I am a descendant 
 of the gods 1 " 
 
 " And no less ! " 
 
 " Woodbury is Woden s borough. And 
 Woden means - 
 
 " You make me afraid of you ! Where 
 do you keep your thunderbolts ? " 
 
 And then the clock struck, and Miss 
 Sarah put up her red morocco housewife, 
 and Miss Raleigh ran away. 
 
 This was not Mrs. Spence s first winter 
 in Washington by any means. She had 
 [182] 
 
A LITTLE OLD WOMAN 
 
 entered Major Spence s claim shortly after 
 peace had been declared. Dissatisfied with 
 her lawyer because he gave his services, 
 because he was young, and because she had 
 known Sammy Pleasants ever since he was 
 born perhaps, also, because Sammy Pleas- 
 ants had known Major Spence she had 
 taken another. This individual had been 
 succeeded by a third. And then, on con 
 tingent fees, had passed a procession of 
 claim agents. The difficulties, the doubts, 
 the disappointments, the defeats, had shaken 
 her. Or had they shaken the plantation ? 
 For it had lately stretched its borders, and 
 Mrs. Spence had spoken of it as if it were 
 possibly a thousand acres, and the soil had 
 penetrated all of eighty feet toward the 
 earth s centre. 
 
 " Of course," Mrs. Spence said, " if it were 
 not a big affair Major Spence s name would 
 not be connected with it. And the oppor 
 tunities it afforded him of doing good ! 
 Oh, I am sure he improved them ! " 
 
 Mrs. McQueen had met Mrs. Spence two 
 or three years before this, in the parlor at 
 Willard s, where the little woman was call- 
 [183] 
 
OLD WASHINGTON 
 
 ing on a grand lady in the hope of securing 
 her influence with some of those in author 
 ity. Mrs. McQueen, who was waiting to see 
 the clerk for the purpose of letting her rooms 
 to any overflow of his guests, heard the soft 
 rustle of the old silk and was attracted by 
 the sweetness of a small, pale face with eyes 
 like two drops of midnight dew, and by the 
 refinement of the tone in which the bell 
 boy had been addressed ; possibly, also, by 
 the presence of the imposing colored man, 
 who stood with folded arms at a respectful 
 distance. 
 
 The grand lady of the hour kept Mrs. 
 Spence waiting, and Mrs. McQueen made 
 room for her at the fire. And when she 
 had acknowledged the courtesy, and Mrs. 
 McQueen, herself a timid creature, had re 
 assured her, somehow Mrs. Spence found 
 herself launched upon the story of her 
 wrongs. 
 
 " If," said the soft voice, with its lingering 
 undertone of melancholy, " it had been ju/t 
 the fortune of wah I should accept it. But 
 it was not wah. You belong, perhaps, to 
 the more Nohthe n people, and I will not say 
 [184] 
 
A LITTLE OLD WOMAN 
 
 too much. Yet even our servants no, no, 
 it would be rude. But the house to which 
 Major Spence brought me when I was a bride 
 the beautiful old house where I had such 
 happiness to see it make a bonfire before 
 my face ! " The tears overflowed her eyes 
 while she spoke, as dew overflows a flower. 
 
 " It is shameful ! " assented Mrs. Mc 
 Queen. " There should be full payment." 
 
 " Oh, no, I do not ask payment for that. 
 Beau and the others put out the fire. There 
 came a Nohther with a cloud-burst, too. I 
 do not ask restitution ; I would not accept it. 
 Money," said the little person, with an inde 
 scribable dignity, " could not repay me for 
 such loss, for such irreverence to the mem 
 ory of Major Spence. They tore down my 
 curtains they were draperies that Major 
 Spence s father bought in Paris after the 
 sack of the Tuileries. But we would have 
 restored them if we had known how. They 
 tossed his books into the fire the books 
 Major Spence took such pleasure in reading 
 aloud, as we sat with the lamps inside the 
 mosquito-house. He was a beautiful reader, 
 and there were many occasions when we 
 [185] 
 
OLD WASHINGTON 
 
 were quite by ourselves, especially after 
 Major Spence had been over in New Orleans 
 dining with friends and was not feeling quite 
 up to the mark. They shrivelled in the fire 
 - The Spectator, < The Life of Dr. John 
 son, < The Vicar of Wakefield, < The Com 
 plete Works of Lord Byron/ The Historical 
 Plays of William Shakespeare. Oh, there 
 were more than fifty of them ! And they 
 broke up my piano the piano where I 
 used to play to Major Spence in the twi 
 light ! I can see him now with the tear on 
 his cheek when I sang Oft in the Stilly 
 Night. Major Spence was very sensitive - 
 the music, the hour, the breath of the cape 
 jessamines. He was a little older than I. 
 He sometimes regretted he had no one to 
 direct his youth I mean it affected him 
 to think I might be left alone. He told 
 Beau, my negro man there, not to lose sight 
 of me in a waking hour. It is because the 
 place was the home of Major Spence, and 
 the home of his father, that I feel as I do. 
 As for me, a woman endures much. But 
 I was the wife of Major Spence ; I am 
 his relict. There are rights and properties 
 [186] 
 
A LITTLE OLD WOMAN 
 
 belonging to Major Spence s wife, and the 
 claim I am making is for the destruction of 
 his crops and stores. But I find it difficult 
 to secure justice without influence." 
 
 The grand dame dismissed Mrs. Spence 
 with scant ceremony, and Mrs. McQueen 
 overtook and went along with her. She was 
 crying softly. "Oh, if Major Spence were 
 living," she exclaimed, finding her friendly 
 listener beside her, " she would not have 
 spoken in that manner ! We used to go 
 over to New Orleans every winter and stay 
 at the St. Charles ourselves ; and not a 
 gentleman in the big rotunda but felt flat 
 tered if Major Spence invited him to to 
 join him. Not, I beg you to believe, that 
 Major Spence was a drinking man ; but 
 among gentlemen you know. Those days 
 are gone. But if the Government oh, 
 if you had ever seen the plantation when 
 all the tender green was springing far and 
 near, and the mansion was full of company, 
 and Major Spence so proud and pleased - 
 so pleased with me, too ; the house at night 
 lighted in every room, and the music of the 
 flutes and fiddles and banjoes (for we had 
 [187] 
 
OLD WASHINGTON 
 
 excellent musicians among the hands), oh 
 you would know how bitter it is to have 
 such pleasure come to an end ! The wah 
 took Major Spence, and we could never 
 have the sweet, gay life again. But if I 
 might only stay where I had it, and call its 
 ghosts about me - - Ah ! there is my lawyer 
 coming; pray excuse me, or may I intro 
 duce him Mr. Pleasants ? His father was 
 one of the Government agents in the re 
 moval of the Seminoles. Mr. Pleasants is 
 a scion of one of our very first families." 
 
 Mr. Pleasants was a pallid, slender youth, 
 with an eager, smiling face, full of the de 
 sire to help. He afterwards came to lodge 
 with Mrs. McQueen. But by that time 
 he had been replaced in Mrs. Spence s ser 
 vices by an oily and untidy individual in 
 oily and untidy clothes, who had a way 
 of lurking around corners and of wiping 
 his lips furtively, as if conscious of too 
 recent refreshments. 
 
 " Very eminent, I assure you," Mrs. 
 Spence had whispered once, meeting Mrs. 
 McQueen again. " Of course, in the cele 
 brated case of Pinmoney versus Alimony he 
 [188] 
 
A LITTLE OLD WOMAN 
 
 is reticent ; but it was he who advised in the 
 successful prosecution of the Government s 
 right to the Wigwam Lands." 
 
 Possibly some portion of the Wigwam 
 Lands still clung to the adviser s personality. 
 But his mental processes were not apparently 
 nicer. " They have an itching palm, these 
 congressmen," he was saying. 
 
 " But, Mr. Jannon," she was replying, " I 
 am not willing to propose any motive of 
 self-interest to those who have the lofty 
 responsibility " 
 
 " Don t misunderstand me, madame," Mr. 
 Jannon interrupted. " You will not suspect 
 me of that. The crude is not always neces 
 sary. But there are expenses legitimate 
 I promise you. A lunch, an invitation to 
 the bar, a paper to be copied 
 
 " Well, well, if it is not a question of any 
 impropriety, I know Major Spence would 
 want the case presented in the most gentle 
 manly way. And I will have - 
 
 " The money ! " 
 
 She hesitated at the bold word. " Yes ; 
 this evening. But you know I have told 
 you my means are very limited." 
 [189] 
 
OLD WASHINGTON 
 
 Mrs. McQueen, shy to suffering, felt it 
 would be criminal to leave the little lady in 
 the hands of this footpad, and summoned 
 courage to speak. Mrs. Spence turned upon 
 her with a quick movement of irritation. 
 " I fear," she said, " that any intrusion upon 
 the affairs of Major Spence- And Mrs. 
 McQueen drew back dismayed, as if a bird 
 had flown in her face, although the apology 
 was swift and quavering. 
 
 Perhaps the admonition was useful, how 
 ever, for Mr. Jannon was before long sup 
 planted by a jaunty personage of excessive 
 promises. He protested that this great 
 Government was not robbing widows ; the 
 claim would be allowed in its entirety when 
 properly presented, and he asked nothing 
 till then. Of course, there were items of 
 expenditure requiring attention, but in the 
 aggregate of such a property they were only 
 a temporary inconvenience, and then capi 
 talists could easily be interested in restoring 
 affairs. And for a time Mrs. Spence trod 
 on air. She indulged herself in one or 
 two extravagances a new binding for her 
 skirt, a dime to a blind beggar, a flask of 
 [190] 
 
A LITTLE OLD WOMAN 
 
 Farina cologne, the elegant perfume of her 
 youth. 
 
 "Don t talk to me, Captain Pleasants," 
 she said, when the young man from whose 
 hands she had long since taken her case ven 
 tured to renew his advice. " Mr. Bumble- 
 combe is my attorney. He is a man of the 
 proudest honor." 
 
 "Dear Mrs. Spence," said young Pleas- 
 ants, "what has his honor to do with the 
 Government ? " 
 
 " He has pledged it that " 
 
 " I suppose he carries the United States 
 in his pocket ! " 
 
 " Sammy Pleasants," cried Mrs. Spence, 
 in an exasperation, fluttering all her dra 
 peries, " I shall not come for an opinion to a 
 boy I rocked in his cradle." 
 
 " All right, Mrs. Spence ; we won t talk 
 of it. I am going across to Harvey s for 
 some steamed oysters ; won t you come with 
 me ? If you won t take mine, I want your 
 advice." 
 
 Mrs. Spence did not hesitate. Her break 
 fast had been a biscuit, and her dinner would 
 be another, although terrapin and cham- 
 
OLD WASHINGTON 
 
 pagne might figure at Mr. Bumblecombe s 
 repast ; and steamed oysters were inviting. 
 Going into a restaurant with Sammy Pleas- 
 ants, too, would have been foreign to the 
 custom of her earlier day, but it was not 
 that which hindered her. Sammy Pleasants, 
 she was sure, had very little more in his 
 pockets than she had in her small bag, and 
 not for a banquet dressed by Michael Scott 
 would she have impinged on that little more. 
 Moreover, she was banqueting on expecta 
 tion, and hope and joy were her convives. 
 
 " Thank you, Sammy," she said gently ; 
 " some time I may look for the pleasure of 
 lunching with you at Beaumarais, but to 
 day I have an appointment. Good-morning. 
 I hope you will enjoy the oysters." And 
 she went on, hungry but content. 
 
 When Sammy Pleasants next met Mrs. 
 Spence she was looking less blithe. Indeed, 
 she was very downcast. 
 
 " Do you know," she said, " I hardly think 
 Major Spence would have me submit to 
 these trials. If I had anything but the 
 plantation and the claim I should be tempted 
 to drop the whole business." 
 [192] 
 
A LITTLE OLD WOMAN 
 
 " The best day s work you could possibly 
 do, Mrs. Spence," emphatically said the un 
 compromising Sammy. 
 
 " It is the alternations," she continued, 
 feeling the relief of her slender plaint, " that 
 are so wearying. Still," she added, brighten 
 ing, " there is always some blue in the sky. 
 I can t tell you the pleasure it recently gave 
 me to receive an anonymous letter and 
 you know we do not think well of anony 
 mous letters usually speaking most appre 
 ciatively of Major Spence, and inclosing a 
 ten-dollar treasury note as part payment of 
 an old obligation." 
 
 Sammy Pleasants face was as pink as a 
 peach. 
 
 Some debt of honor, I suppose," she said. 
 " You know that Major Spence often lost 
 quite considerable sums at cards ; often, in 
 the kindness of his great heart, to some one 
 who could not otherwise be helped." 
 
 " Yes, Mrs. Spence," said Sammy, feeling 
 himself watched narrowly, " the Major loved 
 his jack-pot." 
 
 " I am afraid I do not understand you," 
 with gentle austerity. 
 13 [ 193 ] 
 
OLD WASHINGTON 
 
 " Why, but you just said so yourself, Mrs. 
 Spence." 
 
 " I did ? However, the colloquialisms of 
 the day are very expressive." 
 
 "They seem to cover a great deal of 
 ground," said Sammy. 
 
 " I thought at first," she resumed, " before 
 reading the letter, that the United States 
 treasury people did not know of Major 
 Spence s death although I can hardly 
 realize such ignorance of important occur 
 rences and had sent him the note as a 
 specimen of fine engraving. I feared then, 
 afterward, that a greenback, as I think they 
 call it, might not be good money. But I 
 took advice. And it was so satisfactory to 
 offer it as a retaining fee " 
 
 " Has Mr. Mr. Bumblecombe - 
 
 " Oh, Sammy Pleasants, you were quite 
 right about Mr. Bumblecombe ! He is no 
 longer my adviser. He he was not a 
 gentleman. Now Colonel Sharkey " 
 
 " Mrs. Spence ! You don t mean to say 
 old Sharkey " 
 
 " I can t allow you to proceed," holding 
 up a shabby little forbidding hand. " I 
 [194] 
 
A LITTLE OLD WOMAN 
 
 hardly know why you feel so much at liberty 
 to criticise my choice of counsel. Colonel 
 Sharkey is is an old acquaintance. And 
 he is he is most respectable." 
 
 Close-shaven, erect, pompous ; his coat 
 not new, but brushed and buttoned ; his 
 linen not new, either, but pared on the edges 
 and white ; his hat also not new, but once 
 tall and shining ; and his manners, more 
 over, not new, but severe, as ill befits those 
 that go down on the great deep of politics, 
 Colonel Sharkey was trying to make his 
 way under unfamiliar conditions. Recon 
 ciled to the conqueror, he had taken the 
 iron-clad oath, and now took also whatever 
 came in his way. And the ten-dollar treas 
 ury note with which Sammy Pleasants had 
 meant to make Mrs. Spence glad had done 
 double duty, and had made Colonel Sharkey 
 glad too. 
 
 Another summer had passed, when Mrs. 
 McQueen, being in the Capitol, and pass 
 ing the senatorial reception-room, saw Mrs. 
 Spence sitting on the edge of one of the 
 sofas there, sadness and fatigue marking her 
 worn little face, and her crapes limper than 
 [ 195 ] 
 
OLD WASHINGTON 
 
 ever. Hating her own errand, her heart 
 palpitating at anything of the sort, Mrs. 
 McQueen was glad of an excuse for delay. 
 
 " I hope your affairs are prospering," she 
 said, as, after the greeting, Mrs. Spence, 
 with ceremonious graciousness, made room 
 beside herself. 
 
 " No," said Mrs. Spence. " It seems that 
 a great government like this although I 
 understand the United States never does 
 pay interest," she interpolated, with some 
 irrelevant mental process, "cannot stop to 
 render justice to a woman. Possibly it con 
 ceives that it is dealing not with a woman, 
 but with a man. And a man of Major 
 Spence s prominence, a landowner on so 
 large a scale, an officer of the Confederacy 2 
 -I do not allow myself to doubt that 
 Major Spence s claim will eventually be 
 recognized." 
 
 " Oh," murmured Mrs. McQueen, in her 
 pretty, breathless way, " I do hope so ! " 
 
 "But it is unpleasant," Mrs. Spence con 
 tinued, " to find one s self among the 
 women who make a business of calling out 
 the senators. Sometimes I think they are 
 [196] 
 
A LITTLE OLD WOMAN 
 
 not not in good taste ; but then 1 am not 
 a judge, I acknowledge. I never exactly 
 saw what Major Spence found to admire in 
 those young Creole I mean - However, 
 that is neither here nor there." Her face 
 grew darker. 
 
 " No," said Mrs. McQueen, quickly. " I 
 came myself to collect some money due me, 
 and I know how painful - 
 
 " I am trusting," said Mrs. Spence, reas 
 sured by the sympathy, " to secure assistance 
 from Senator Sumner. I am afraid I may 
 have worn out my own people. It is dis 
 agreeable and hard to solicit favors from the 
 enemy the conquering enemy ; yet I feel 
 it due to Major Spence that I should leave 
 no stone unturned. The claim has already 
 been mentioned in the newspapers. It has 
 acquired a national importance, and so I 
 have sent my card to Senator Sumner." 
 
 " I am afraid you don t know that Mr. 
 Sumner never receives cards in the Senate 
 chamber," said Mrs. McQueen. " It is 
 really of no use. Won t you go with me on 
 my errand, and then come home and lunch ? 
 It would give me such pleasure." 
 [197] 
 
O L D WASHINGTON 
 
 "My dear," said Mrs. Spence, "this is 
 not my hour for lunching, thank you. And 
 do you suppose I have been all this time 
 busy with affairs not to know more about 
 them than than another ? Perhaps the 
 Senator does not see every one. But the 
 widow of Major Spence, of Mississippi, will 
 hardly be refused. Not, my dear," seeing 
 the flush on Mrs. McQueen s cheek, "that 
 I do not appreciate your kindly intention. 
 But I am quite sure that the Senator 
 Must you go ? Good-morning." 
 
 Mrs. McQueen had troubles of her own, 
 and she did not see Mrs. Spence again until 
 one day in the spring, when she came across 
 her in the market. The market was even 
 then a wonderful place, with birds and game 
 and crisp green things, the outside haunted 
 by the old mammies, whose dark faces under 
 the silver halos of their wiry hair would 
 have been weird but for the dancing smiles 
 and for the voluble sweet voices in which 
 they cried their wares, " Heah yo ar , 
 honey ; heah s yo vi lets, hens an roosters," 
 wild pansies being the latter variety. " Yo 
 be still, now, Abe Tollifer, befo de ladies ! " 
 [198] 
 
A LITTLE OLD WOMAN 
 
 as a bareheaded and barefooted imp turned 
 somersaults in their path. 
 
 " I like to come down here occasionally," 
 said Mrs. Spence, looking at Mrs. McQueen s 
 basket apologetically. "It seems pleasant 
 to hear the old voices. I feel at home when 
 I see the people ; they speak so affection 
 ately. These aunties with their bandannas, 
 these old uncles with their silver-bowed 
 specs it brings back the dear days of just 
 a little while ago, and yet so far, so far 
 away ! Major Spence seems walking beside 
 me here. And then then, you know, I 
 have to be sparing. The lawyers, the costs 
 anything of a large nature so taxes one s 
 means. And so I like to come here and 
 just look at the delicious things. Those 
 birds in their shining feathers I can see 
 Major Spence coming home with a string of 
 them across his rifle. Beau s wife dresses 
 them so delicately. And those oranges ! 
 What basketfuls they carried on their heads 
 and tumbled down ! Major Spence was so 
 fond of eating one on his fork, peeled and 
 dipped in sugar. Oh, how many a morning 
 whole branches of the blossoming trees have 
 [199] 
 
OLD WASHINGTON 
 
 been brought in, filling the house with 
 sweetness ! We used to be rowed down 
 the South Fork, to come back with the 
 boat filled with the orange flowers. Nanny 
 distilled from them a bitter water that was 
 very refreshing. Oh, me ! Well, well, we 
 never can recover the old days. They 
 belonged to other people the young, the 
 happy. If 1 go back to Mississippi I shall 
 not find Major Spence there. And I really 
 don t know how I am going to stay here." 
 
 She started and looked about as if some 
 one had spoken, and then she became aware 
 that she was thinking aloud, and she colored 
 like a girl. 
 
 " Mrs. Spence," said her listener, her voice 
 trembling with eagerness, " you re going to 
 come home with me and stay with me and 
 share with me. It is only a hall chamber, 
 but that shall be your own. When the 
 claim is allowed you can pay me. Oh, yes, 
 indeed ! " as the little black-gloved hands, 
 showing all their patching and darning, 
 waved agitated refusal. " We re going to 
 have mock-turtle soup and venison ; " and 
 Mrs. McQueen s glance, following Beau s, 
 [200] 
 
A LITTLE OLD W o M A N 
 
 fell on an opossum hanging by its heels. 
 " And an opossum ! " she whispered, making 
 a sign to the keeper of the stall. " Now, 
 you come right along, dear, and I think I 
 can find some work for Beau about the 
 house. A man-servant does give an air 
 to a place ; so, really, you 11 be helping me, 
 you see." And suddenly collapsing, Mrs. 
 Spence suffered herself to be led along, 
 Mrs. McQueen astonished at her own cour 
 age, but tucking the tiny hand under her 
 arm and hurrying on ; Beau glad enough to 
 go for the slender properties. 
 
 Mrs. McQueen brought a cup of the 
 mock-turtle soup to the new lodger as soon 
 as she was installed. Then Mrs. Spence lay 
 down, pulling the spare blanket over her, 
 and fell asleep. And although they looked 
 in on her more than once she did not awake 
 until the next morning. 
 
 " Now," she said triumphantly, " I can 
 go about my work with fresh spirit. And 
 when Major Spence s claim is allowed, you 
 may be sure you may be sure, my dear, 
 dear Mrs. McQueen, that you shall never 
 have another solicitude." 
 [201] 
 
OLD WASHINGTON 
 
 " I can t tell you," said Mrs. McQueen 
 to her young son, Archie, who had more 
 regard for business than she herself pos 
 sessed, " what it is to me to know she has 
 a good bed and enough to eat, poor dear ! " 
 
 Enough to eat ! If Major Spence s relict 
 - to whom sympathy was the bread of life 
 had overheard those words she would 
 have starved to death in her garret before 
 coming. But she did not hear, and the 
 opossum was not cooked until the next 
 day ; and although some of the boarders 
 were disrespectful to the dish, Mrs. Spence 
 thought she herself had never enjoyed any 
 thing more than the delicately succulent 
 morsel, which was all she would have on 
 her plate ; and the way Miss Celeste Dreer 
 took to it warmed her heart. A goodly 
 portion, however, went to the kitchen, much 
 to Beau s delectation. 
 
 " Would n de Major smack his lips ober 
 dis yer ! " he exclaimed, growing expansive. 
 " Dere s nott n beats a possum s paw, he 
 useter say, ceptin anoder possum s paw. 
 Pears like," he added on his own account, 
 " a roas angel d tas e jes dis a- way." 
 
A LITTLE OLD WOMAN 
 
 Tolly, who, coming to see the Conroys, 
 often gave Mrs. McQueen a day s accommo 
 dation in the kitchen, turned on him with 
 her basting-spoon. " Huccom yo know so 
 much bout dese yer hebinly powers ? " she 
 cried. " Seen em t ick as owls down in 
 dose woods an swamps, I reckon. Dis ain 
 no place for em. Dis dish jes plain pos 
 sum. De angels don hab nott n be r ! " 
 
 " When you come to see me in Missis 
 sippi," Mrs. Spence had previously said to 
 the young ladies opposite her, and to whom 
 she had been introduced in the parlor, " you 
 shall have possum dressed as the negroes 
 have it. I see that you enjoy it, my dear," 
 to Miss Raleigh. " Not that it would be 
 any nicer than this. Everything is most 
 delicious on this table. But each place has 
 its own customs, and Major Spence made an 
 occasion of his possum feasts." 
 
 And of course these young ladies felt as 
 if their especial protection belonged to Mrs. 
 Spence until they should go to Mississippi, 
 and they vied with each other in giving it. 
 
 Day by day Miss Sarah and Miss Raleigh 
 listened to the stories told by Mrs. Spence. 
 [203] 
 
OLD WASHINGTON 
 
 And by and by they took the liberty of 
 looking out for her clothes ; little by little 
 they replaced certain of them the veil, 
 the ribbons, the gloves. " It does appear 
 like I had been dreaming," said Mrs. Spence 
 once. " These are certainly my gloves. But 
 I reckon I must have dreamed there were 
 holes I had mended in them. I never did 
 get such a heap of wear out of anything. 
 I used n t to wear gloves much at Beauma- 
 rais, except in the saddle. Major Spence, 
 of course, wore riding-gloves he rode so 
 constantly about the place ; the distances 
 on our large plantations are so enormous, 
 and not without their dangers. Once we 
 were riding it startles me now to recall 
 it in a far corner of his property, some 
 land that had lately been left him in a more 
 northerly State. And going in among the 
 tall canes, suddenly all the silent world about 
 us seemed filled with great naked tree-boughs, 
 moving barebranched trees rising and toss 
 ing, all alive ! We felt as though the earth 
 were turned upside down. And the next 
 instant there was nothing there ; all was 
 empty green canebrake and blue sky. 
 [204] 
 
A LITTLE OLD WOMAN 
 
 They were elks, you know ; a herd that 
 had wandered that way and were resting 
 in the reeds. Major Spence had lost the 
 haft of his hunting-knife, and the only 
 weapon he had was the blade ; and except 
 for his riding-glove he couldn t have han 
 dled that. It makes me shudder now, 
 though I reckon those vanishing deer were 
 the most frightened. Major Spence was 
 never afraid of anything. Once - But, 
 my dears, I don t want to tire you with 
 my recollections " 
 
 " Oh, you could n t, Mrs. Spence ! " they 
 cried. 
 
 " Major Spence could not, I am aware," 
 she said. " He had such a range of sub 
 jects. He loved to amuse children with 
 his adventures. He certainly was good to 
 young and old. I think the Lord must 
 remember that. Oh, my dears, he took 
 me out of a convent, where I had learned 
 nothing but fine sewing and painting by 
 theorems, and taught me all I know ! " 
 
 "Did he!" 
 
 " I remember when I came to the plan 
 tation, after the convent, how it seemed 
 [205] 
 
OLD WASHINGTON 
 
 like I had two wings life was so sweet, 
 so fresh, so beautiful ! He was so great, so 
 kind. I had such pretty clothes, too, my 
 dears. He he gave them to me. I wish 
 you had seen my wedding bonnet. He 
 bought it in New Orleans when we first 
 went over. I - - I am almost ashamed to 
 teh 1 you, but we we were a runaway 
 couple. It was very wrong. At least 
 oh, we were very happy ! It was made of 
 white uncut velvet, with wide white satin 
 ribbons and a great ostrich plume, and a 
 wreath of little white roses and green leaves 
 inside, and a blonde-lace veil that fell to my 
 knees. Major Spence said but it would 
 sound like I was too vain if I told you. 
 But I always remembered ! Oh, my good 
 ness ! would you believe it ? once there were 
 five little kittens born in that bonnet. My 
 dears, I am afraid I have shocked you - 
 
 " Oh, no, no, Mrs. Spence ! " cried Raleigh. 
 
 " I wish I had one of those kittens now," 
 said Miss Sarah. 
 
 " My love ! It would be such an old, old 
 cat ! " sighed Mrs. Spence, with a reminis 
 cent shake of her head. 
 [206] 
 
A LITTLE OLD WOMAN 
 
 That night, when Miss Sarah stood before 
 the mirror loosening her braids, Miss Raleigh 
 looking on, " My, what hair you have, and 
 you a No the ner ! " said Miss Raleigh. " It s 
 blue-black." 
 
 " Carthaginian," replied Miss Sarah. " And 
 fit for bowstrings." 
 
 " Bowstrings ! Then / ought to have had 
 it, not you. You women up No th didn t 
 have to give your hair or anything else." 
 
 Miss Sarah brushed her hair for awhile so 
 that she swept sparks out of it. "Do you 
 know," she said then, " I think you re very 
 amiable. You were whipped, and yet you 
 don t seem to have the rancor I should 
 have." 
 
 "Whipped? Who? We? We were n t 
 whipped. You were whipped." 
 
 "We? We!" 
 
 " Oh, you 11 find out by and by. The 
 principles that were your salvation went 
 under. You won t see him just yet, but 
 you brought the man on horseback two or 
 three hundred years nearer. You think you 
 ruined the Sooth. You really ruined the 
 No th too." 
 
 [207] 
 
OLD WASHINGTON 
 
 " I don t know what you re talking 
 about ! " 
 
 " I m talking about State rights, and Fed 
 eral power, and great fortunes growing out 
 of wah, and monopolies, and the love of 
 splendor, and the love of conquest. You 11 
 never be satisfied now till you annex all the 
 islands of the seas " 
 
 " You re tremendously in earnest ! " 
 
 " One gets in earnest when giving up so 
 much for her country as I have." 
 
 " I gave my brother," said Miss Sarah, 
 presently, with a catch in her voice. 
 
 "So did I." 
 
 " Was he " 
 
 " Killed ? My word ! I should say Johnny 
 knew better than to have himself killed." 
 
 " My brother was," said Miss Sarah, turn 
 ing with shining eyes. 
 
 There was a silence. " Oh ! " cried Ra 
 leigh then, throwing her arms around Miss 
 Sarah s neck and kissing her on both cheeks. 
 " I know how I should feel ! And there 
 were splendid fellows on your side. I 
 remember - 
 
 " And so there were on yours," Miss Sarah 
 [208 ] 
 
A LITTLE OLD WOMAN 
 
 interrupted, answering the gaze of the sky- 
 blue eyes in the glass. " Once when the 
 the Confederates, then had made a 
 charge and had been repulsed, and our 
 line lay there, monstrous, impregnable - 
 
 " That s right. Just pile it on, honey." 
 
 " Well, a company came furiously on, just 
 in front of Paul my brother Paul, you 
 know," said Miss Sarah. " And suddenly 
 the men broke and ran " 
 
 " I don t believe it ! " 
 
 " They d have been too simple if they 
 had n t. But their captain he was a young 
 fellow, a fair-haired young fellow, straight 
 and tall, with an eye like an eagle he 
 was far in advance of his men, calling them 
 on, running, waving his sword. And all at 
 once he stopped and looked around, and 
 there he was, alone on the field and a 
 thousand rifles waiting for him. " 
 
 "Oh!" 
 
 " What do you suppose he did ? I de 
 clare it was a magnificent thing ! He never 
 turned his back. He stopped and stood 
 there and folded his arms and looked 
 straight at the enemy and waited for 
 i* [ 209 ] 
 
O L D WASHINGTON 
 
 death. And Paul sprang out and cried, 
 Don t shoot! Oh, don t shoot, boys! 5 
 And not a rifle clicked. And that nervy 
 fellow calmly gave them the salute and 
 turned and walked back to find his men, 
 deliberately, as if he picked his way. And 
 our men cheered him. The whole brigade 
 cheered him. It was a roar bigger than any 
 roar of battle, Paul said. Don t you think 
 that was fine ? " 
 
 " Fine ! Yes, I do ! Don t you know 
 oh, of course you don t ! Oh, I must kiss 
 you ! I must tell you ! Oh, that was 
 Johnny ! " 
 
 "Your " 
 
 " They told me all about it. He did n t." 
 
 " Your brother - - well, Paul said he 
 looked like a young god." 
 
 " And he owes his life " 
 
 " No. There was n t a man in that line 
 would have fired." 
 
 " I don t believe that, either. At any 
 rate, I choose to think he owes his life to 
 your brother. He s coming here this week, 
 and he 11 tell you so. And it was worth 
 saving. Oh, there never was so good a boy 
 [210] 
 
A LITTLE OLD WOMAN 
 
 as Johnny ! He s my very ideal of a knight 
 of the days of chivalry," dancing lightly 
 about the room. " Only he can t ride free- 
 booting nowadays, like those knights did. 
 And there s nothing for him to do up in our 
 country. And we do hate to say we were 
 ruined by the wah so many do, you d 
 think they had terrapin running round the 
 yard like ladybugs. But oh, so many 
 were ! Anyway, there s no earthly lookout 
 for him at home, and he s coming here to 
 try for an office." 
 
 " I hope he won t have as hard a time 
 as I." 
 
 " I don t see why you should have such 
 a time. Have n t you any pull ? " 
 
 " Pull ? " 
 
 " Oh, you re not fit for political life ! 
 You don t even know the language ! How 
 ever, I had n t any pull myself. I just went 
 to them, and I told them I must have it. 
 I did n t think it necessary to be delicate. 
 I had as much right to have it as they had 
 to give it. I made out a good story of 
 course. I said I must have it right away. 
 And I got it." 
 
OLD WASHINGTON 
 
 " Oh, you ! I would like to see any one 
 refuse you dimples and blushes and smiles 
 and eyes as blue as forget-me-nots - 
 
 " Just heah you ! " 
 
 "Well, I ve no doubt I shall end by 
 going back to my school. But I wish I 
 wish we could save Mrs. Spence from that 
 claim agent before I go." 
 
 " That claim agent ? Why, there s a 
 dozen of him ! Oh, now, don t you be fret 
 ting on Mrs. Spence s account. I know 
 about her. She is second cousin to the wife 
 of General Beauchamp s brother s uncle-in- 
 law," checking off her fingers. " You wait 
 till Johnny comes. Those claim agents will 
 wish it was a nightmare ! " 
 
 And when she was gone Miss Sarah felt 
 as if it had suddenly grown dark in the room. 
 
 It was some time after this conversation 
 that Mrs. McQueen, loitering with her boy 
 for a breath of the late evening, drawn by 
 the ineffable fragrance of the grandiflora 
 magnolia, which blew its heavy gales out half 
 a mile away, was sitting in the shadows of 
 Lafayette Square and watching the stars 
 hang through the branches like the won- 
 [212 ] 
 
A LITTLE OLD WOMAN 
 
 drous flowers of such a wondrous perfume, 
 and feeling the soft air move about them 
 like a loving, unseen being. 
 
 " If one were waiting just outside heaven 
 it might be like this," breathed a low voice 
 beside her ; and on the same bench, in a 
 slightly blacker spot of shade, she recog 
 nized Mrs. Spence. 
 
 "You really think, then," replied Mrs. 
 McQueen, " that heaven is a place, and with 
 such pleasures as this dark, sweet air ? " 
 
 " My dear," said Mrs. Spence, " I never 
 allow myself to doubt it. Where Major 
 Spence is must be a place." 
 
 " As real as the banks of the Ocala." 
 
 " I don t know how it can be pleasanter," 
 she sighed. " If 1 were there on the Ocala 
 to-night, the breath of the cape jessamines 
 the flowers that Major Spence used to say 
 have a soul would be as rich as these 
 magnolias ; there would come across it a 
 waft of salt air from the Gulf, and the 
 mocking-birds would be bubbling joyously 
 from swamp and hollow not like the poor 
 caged things they hang outside the windows 
 here to sing their prison-song at night. 
 
OLD WASHINGTON 
 
 However," she added, after a quick breath 
 or two, " I shall put an end to all that 
 presently." 
 
 "You mean " said Mrs. McQueen, as 
 the other paused. 
 
 " Yes. No prisoners after I once give the 
 word. When I freed the slaves " 
 
 " You freed your slaves ? You never 
 told me that." 
 
 " Yes ; I freed all the slaves in the United 
 States," said Mrs. Spence, quietly. 
 
 " Don t you think it is a little damp 
 here ? " asked Mrs. McQueen, rising. " Per 
 haps we ought to go. I m afraid you have 
 not been sleeping well of late." 
 
 It seemed to cross Mrs. Spence that she 
 had said something extraordinary, and she 
 was silent nearly all the way home, trying 
 to regain herself. 
 
 The younger people had been sitting on 
 the doorsteps ; Miss Sarah, stately, on an 
 upper step with some others, but Miss 
 Raleigh, in a gay mood, walking down the 
 street with her brother John he also some 
 what stately leaving Captain Pleasants dis 
 consolate upon the lower step. Far away, 
 [214] 
 
A LITTLE OLD WOMAN 
 
 as they strolled, the lamps outlined the 
 mighty shadows of the foundation arches of 
 the Capitol on its hill ; they half divined the 
 steps scaling skyward, and the flying lines 
 of columns, taking a touch of light out of 
 the darkness beneath the dim sublimity of 
 the dome in a mid-heaven where welled the 
 light of the late-rising moon. The moon 
 shone full on John s face, and it was re 
 marked by Miss Raleigh, whose spirits no 
 sublimity repressed, that his head might be 
 that of the Winged Victory if the Nike 
 were not both headless and a woman. 
 
 " Oh, let my head alone ! " said John. 
 
 " I m not touching it ! " said Raleigh. 
 " I was only repeating the fact that all 
 people in all poetry seem to play let me 
 see if that s right seem to play with 
 the same fancy ; the Greeks having a mas 
 culine sort of woman-spirit following wah, 
 the Nike ; the Norse having a masculine sort 
 of the same, the Valkyrie. And oh, a lot 
 more ! You don t suppose / know any 
 thing about Nikes and Ghandarvas ! I 
 heard her say it this morning. And she 
 said it apropos of " 
 
 [215] 
 
OLD WASHINGTON 
 
 "Raleigh!" 
 
 "Of nothing, then! I m just ashamed 
 of you, Johnny ! I never supposed you d 
 let your animosity against the Nohth blind 
 you to the perfectly lovely character of a 
 girl-" 
 
 " Good Lord, Raleigh ! " 
 
 " Yes, she is perfectly lovely ! " 
 
 " I mean well I know it ! " 
 
 " Then you did n t say that because you 
 
 did n t mean John Cumnor ! Johnny ! " 
 
 hugging his arm. " I might have known 
 
 -it s my dearest wish-- I m in love with 
 
 her myself ! " 
 
 " One would suppose a man fell in love 
 to oblige his sister." 
 
 " Is n t she splendid, John ? " 
 
 " Grace was in all her steps, heaven in 
 her eye, " the thought ran in John Cum- 
 nor s mind, but he said nothing. 
 
 " * Sarah means princess, you know," 
 continued Raleigh. 
 
 " Oh, well, it will only be love s labor lost 
 again. It would be a wild audacity " 
 
 " You do vex me ! She s a woman, is n t 
 she ? " 
 
 [216] 
 
A LITTLE OLD WOMAN 
 
 " She won t look at me if she is." 
 
 " She s been looking for you ever since 
 her brother called to his men not to shoot 
 you." 
 
 "Great heavens, Raleigh, you d drive a 
 man off his head ! How do you know 
 that?" 
 
 " Oh, I just know it. By the senses you 
 men have n ? t a shred of. You re not afraid 
 to stand up before a whole regiment of 
 enemies, but you are scared blue of a 
 black-eyed girl. Well, I shall be glad to 
 have some learning and intelligence in the 
 family ! " 
 
 " It looks like it. I can support a wife so 
 well." 
 
 "That will all come right!" cried the 
 reckless Raleigh. " If you don t get your 
 place you can live with me and study law 
 in Sammy Pleasant s office. He 11 be- doing 
 very well after a little." 
 
 " I study law, when the only thing I m 
 fit for is riding over a cottonfield or a to 
 bacco farm ! " 
 
 "Other times, other manners. You re 
 not a dunce, and you can practise up in our 
 [217] 
 
OLD WASHINGTON 
 
 county and come back here a Member. 
 That belongs in our family. Now, I m 
 going to make Sammy a little happier, and 
 you can take the spirit of a man in both 
 hands and ask Sarah to stroll around to the 
 grandiflora. If you don t I ll do it for 
 you ! " 
 
 As Miss Raleigh said, so was it done. 
 And Mrs. Spence and Mrs. McQueen, going 
 homeward, met the two walking with great 
 dignity and some remoteness. And pres 
 ently Mrs. McQueen felt Mrs. Spence s hand 
 trembling on her arm. 
 
 " There are two young people," said Mrs. 
 Spence, "who, I fancy, are in love. You 
 will not think it an impropriety if I say I 
 have a sympathy oh, my heart, how happy 
 I was once ! Oh, if Major Spence were liv 
 ing, what a pleasure it would be to him, 
 when the receipts from his crops came in, 
 to make these two young people happy ! 
 My dear, I am leaning on you too heavily. 
 Beau ! Where is Beau ? Beau, I will thank 
 you for your arm." 
 
 Mrs. Spence went wearily to bed that 
 night, but not to sleep. The street lights 
 [218] 
 
A LITTLE OLD WOMAN 
 
 flickered into her room till she saw visions ; 
 now the white curtains seeming the wings 
 of a great angel, now the dark window space 
 between them assuming the shape of Major 
 Spence, and then the severer majesty of a 
 Supreme Court Justice ; and later, in broken 
 scraps of dream, lawyers, claim agents, treas 
 ury notes, and lovers moved before her eyes, 
 together with her once familiar nightmare 
 of a time of hunger where glittering feasts 
 disappeared as she would taste, leaving noth 
 ing but the cup whose draught was bitter 
 still in her mouth as she awoke. 
 
 But those two young people, sauntering 
 in the charmed glooms of Lafayette Square, 
 were already happy. The vivid whiteness 
 of the moonlight, the blackness of the 
 shadows, the dark blue of the night sky, the 
 murmur of the branches brooding over them, 
 the gleam of lights from the President s 
 grounds, the strange sweetness of the slowly 
 moving air these were all but parts of the 
 perspective of the new country where they 
 wandered that dear land of first love. 
 And they lingered in their enchanted paral 
 lels till the stroke of a midnight bell broke 
 [219] 
 
OLD WASHINGTON 
 
 the dream, like a finger piercing a bubble. 
 For this girl, with grace in all her steps, 
 heaven in her eye, this young giant, who 
 had the lost head of the Winged Victory, 
 needed something more than ambrosia ; and 
 both of them were looking vainly for 
 work. 
 
 " I had no right to speak to you ! " he 
 exclaimed. " In my circumstances it was 
 dastardly! 
 
 " It would have broken my heart if you 
 had n t," she replied. 
 
 And then again the bubble built its shin 
 ing walls about them in the dark. 
 
 Miss Raleigh had been passing the time 
 with Mr. Pleasants. " Is n t Fate the 
 strangest thing in the world ? " she said, 
 going up the stairs later with Miss Sarah. 
 " Here it brings you all the way from the 
 Nohth, and Johnny all the way from the 
 Sooth ; and you don t think alike in any one 
 thing ; and I m sure I don t know how it s 
 goin to do. But you just cayn t help your 
 selves, and that s all there is to it. And 
 I m just as bad. I ought to marry a 
 Spanish grandee or an old Roman prince " 
 
A LITTLE OLD WOMAN 
 
 " Or a mediatized king ! " laughed Sarah. 
 
 " But I always knew I should marry some 
 one else. Only I wonder why his name had 
 to be well, Dennis ! I would have liked 
 Etienne de Montmorenci so much better. 
 But there it is. If I finally do give in 
 Moh would be perfectly shocked if she heard 
 me talkin like this ! " 
 
 Mrs. McQueen herself carried breakfast 
 to Mrs. Spence. " Dear," said Mrs. Spence, 
 letting the coffee cool, " something has oc 
 curred to me. I wonder I had not thought 
 of it before. Suddenly I find that I have 
 been growing old. Indeed, it does not mat 
 ter. I am only so much nearer Major Spence. 
 Yet if he were here it might be unhappiness 
 to him to see my changing color and fading 
 eye ; and to me, too. I might even say that 
 if I had been the Lord I would never have 
 subjected a woman to the humiliation of 
 growing old, but I will not say what I 
 may regret. I hope yes, I hope Major 
 Spence will find that my soul is young. 
 However," she added, with a little laugh, 
 "this garrulous wandering would betray me, 
 if nothing else did. And that is n t what I 
 [221 ] 
 
OLD WASHINGTON 
 
 wished to speak about. I have been think 
 ing. I am afraid, my dear, that the agents 
 have been wronging me. Not Sammy Pleas- 
 ants. He never took any money from me. 
 And he told me it was a far cry to Loch Ay. 
 But it is impossible that at some time Major * 
 Spence s claim shall not be allowed. It may 
 require years more than my allotted term 
 for the springs of life are failing. And 
 so, dear, I am going to make my will and 
 testament, and leave the claim to you." 
 " Oh Mrs. Spence oh, no " 
 " It is due you," said Mrs. Spence, sol 
 emnly. " Major Spence would wish to ac 
 knowledge your goodness to his wife. I 
 fear it may not help you, dear heart, but it 
 will come in handy for your boy, for Archie. 
 For I haven t a shadow of doubt that a 
 person of Major Spence s prominence will 
 ultimately receive justice. As for the plan 
 tation," - she had been speaking very rap 
 idly " that would be an embarrassment to 
 you. You could do nothing at this dis 
 tance, and the taxes would devour all you 
 possess. Yet oh, life there with one 
 whom you love is heaven on earth ! I 
 
A LITTLE OLD WOMAN 
 
 always found it so the outdoor blossom 
 ing, bird-singing, bee-humming life. Per 
 haps some time Major Spence may be 
 permitted to come and see the happiness of 
 those standing in his place. I have a thou 
 sand cousins I mean a great many none 
 very near, none dear, all having their own 
 holdings, more than they can manage. And 
 so no one will be wronged. And do you 
 think Sammy Pleasants is enough of a 
 lawyer to do it ? " 
 
 At this lucid point Beau announced Colo 
 nel Sharkey in the parlor. Mrs. Spence 
 went forward, and then there was a stormy 
 half hour in that apartment, at the end of 
 which she withdrew her case from that gentle 
 man s hands. 
 
 " I cannot believe," said she, in reply to 
 his assertion that a certain senator of the 
 name of Bortle, known as the real-estate 
 agent of the Senate, must be given money, 
 " that any statement as to the necessity of 
 purchasing a senator s power is not a local 
 slander that allows claim agents a pretext to 
 wrong their clients. I may be speaking too 
 plainly, but if the claim depended on brib- 
 
OLD WASHINGTON 
 
 ing a senator, it would be lost. And I 
 haven t a dollar to do it with, if I would. 
 I bid you good-day and good-by ! " 
 
 It was not many mornings after the last 
 interview with Colonel Sharkey that a little 
 woman in black presented herself at the door 
 of the Diplomatic Gallery of the Senate 
 Chamber. She had walked slowly up the 
 Avenue in the heat, Beau silent and solemn 
 behind her, great thoughts with her, even if 
 jangled and out of tune. She had seen the 
 dome soaring buoyant, a cloud among the 
 clouds, a thin blue mist about it, the colon 
 nades beneath shining white above the tree- 
 tops. She had said to herself as many 
 times before that history walked here too . 
 that the gods of the Republic had trodden 
 here ; that Washington, drawn by six white 
 horses, had dashed down the way in his 
 golden chariot painted with Cupids and 
 that Major Spence might have had as many 
 more had he chosen. She had climbed the 
 stairway ; she had paused afterwards at a 
 southern window to look at the two rivers 
 one shining silver, one rosily tinted in the 
 light and at the pillared Heights of Arling- 
 [ 
 
A LITTLE OLD WOMAN 
 
 ton as at a deserted shrine, not at all mind 
 ing that she had gone into a committee room 
 where she had no right ; and then she had 
 slowly pursued her way with her thronging 
 emotions. 
 
 Perhaps the heat and the drowsiness had 
 relaxed the guard of the doorkeeper ; perhaps 
 he was awed by her air, or by the imposing 
 presence of the big black servant, for she 
 was admitted without question. And leav 
 ing Beau at the door, she stepped down to 
 the front, there being no one else in the box, 
 where, seating herself and swiftly waving a 
 small and creaking fan, she watched the pro 
 ceedings. She was only a little old woman 
 in rusty black, eager, alert ; but any one 
 looking at her might have thought of a pale 
 sweet flower, a trifle heavy with the heat, 
 about whose quivering petals a bee was 
 darting. 
 
 The Senate was occupied with the routine 
 attending the close of the session. The day 
 was hot ; the subject was dry ; the clerk read 
 his paragraphs droningly ; some of the sena 
 tors wrote letters, some read newspapers ; the 
 pages lolled upon the steps and made bets 
 15 [ 225 ] 
 
OLD WASHINGTON 
 
 on the flies creeping over various bald heads ; 
 there was a general sleepiness pervading the 
 air ; no one seemed more than half awake. 
 No one, that is, but Mrs. Spence. She bent 
 over the gallery, her face white, her eyes 
 glittering, as if life and death depended on 
 the items of the River and Harbor Bill. 
 
 Suddenly every one in that place was 
 wide awake ; the* Sergeant-at-arms was on 
 his feet ; the Vice-President, thunderstruck, 
 gavel uplifted, was staring at the gallery, 
 toward which every head was turned ; the 
 pages forgot the flies and were running for 
 the doors ; the doorkeeper, ready to avenge 
 the outraged majesty of the Senate, came 
 springing down the steps of the gallery, Beau 
 after him ; and Beau had his mistress in his 
 arms and had carried her into the corridor. 
 
 " It s Mis Major Spence," said Beau, hur 
 riedly, to the doorkeeper. "The heat, I 
 reckon, done onsettle her." For Mrs. Spence 
 had risen and, leaning forward, had ex 
 claimed, her voice like a brook purling over 
 pebbles, but audible through all the Chamber, 
 " I positively forbid the appropriation of an 
 other dollar from the Treasury of the United 
 [226] 
 
A LITTLE OLD WOMAN 
 
 States until the claim of Major Spence, of 
 Mississippi, has been satisfied ! " And then 
 she had looked around in amazement and 
 had sunk terrified, but with a glad security, 
 into Beau s great arms. 
 
 " It s Mis Major Spence," he repeated, 
 his words like a torrent breaking through a 
 dam, as he bore her off. " She s quality. 
 She s outdone wid dis yere heat. Bleedzed 
 ter come out widout de bosses dat nigh 
 one s got a trush in his lef behin foot. 
 Mis Major Spence is fust cousin on de 
 Dandridge s side to de Prurriden. Yo jes 
 call a kerridge, boss, an she 11 make it right 
 for you." 
 
 " Look here ! " said the doorkeeper, feeling 
 as if a bronze statue had poured forth speech. 
 " Who s Major Spence ? I don t know any 
 Major Spence ! " 
 
 " Don know Major Spence ! Why, I d 
 jes know his skin upon a bush ! " cried Beau, 
 as he got his mistress down and into the 
 coach. And when the doorkeeper heard 
 Beau call out, " To de W ite us ! " he thought 
 it must be quite right, and hugged himself 
 in the hope of some promotion for his con- 
 [ 227 ] 
 
OLD WASHINGTON 
 
 sideration, and told the boys to keep the in 
 cident out of the papers ; which the boys did, 
 with the kindly feeling and national pride 
 that makes them cast over the Executive 
 Mansion, upon occasion, the cloud in which 
 the reporters of old wrapped Zeus. 
 
 But at the foot of the hill Beau changed 
 his order to the driver. And on arriving at 
 Mrs. McQueen s, Mrs. Spence was helped 
 to bed and given a quieting potion, which 
 set her eyes wide open, as Miss Sarah found 
 whenever cautiously looking in upon her. 
 
 She was sitting up in bed at the first cock 
 crow, surrounded by a litter of papers, and 
 the gas blazing with a stifling heat. Miss 
 Sarah sequestered the papers, and coaxed the 
 little woman into her own room, and put a 
 cold compress on her head, and sat holding 
 her thin hand and crooning a monotonous 
 tune until her listener dozed, although in 
 momentary naps. And Miss Sarah was 
 more pallid in the morning than Mrs. Spence 
 herself; for that little woman s eyes were 
 sparkling, and she seemed bristling with 
 electric life in every nerve. 
 
 " Oh ! " cried John Cumnor, seeing Sarah s 
 
A LITTLE OLD WOMAN 
 
 pale face, " if I were half a man I could take 
 you out of this deadly heat and all this un 
 certainty that is your undoing and mine 
 too ! If we were down at Pass Christian 
 this morning, with the Gulf wind blow 
 ing-" 
 
 " It is Mrs. Spence who should be where 
 the Gulf wind blows," said Sarah. " I am 
 afraid she is in a bad way, and something 
 must be done - 
 
 " You will have to do it, then, I reckon ; 
 for no one but you can manage her you 
 and Beau." 
 
 "I suppose I ought to have gone out 
 with her this morning. She seemed so in 
 tent and abstracted and on fire by turns. 
 But it is so hot and I felt so wilted the 
 air is so withering outside. The leaves hang 
 as if they were faint in it. And I am so 
 discouraged " 
 
 " No wonder ! " cried John, stalking up 
 and down the room. 
 
 " I see," said Sarah, hesitatingly, " that it 
 is useless for me to try for an office any 
 longer. And I shall have to go home " 
 
 " My darling girl ! " 
 
OLD WASHINGTON 
 
 "At least I mean I haven t any home 
 -but to the schoolroom." 
 
 " Which makes it doubly shameful that I 
 have n t a home to give you ! I envy every 
 negro cabin - 
 
 " Well," said Sarah, " I sometimes think, 
 what if you were a canal boatman and 
 I Oh, my goodness ! what has happened 
 now ? " 
 
 What had happened was that a pair of 
 mighty policemen had taken Mrs. Spence in 
 hand, and were bringing her along by either 
 arm as limp as a rag doll, and looking as if 
 she would fall in a heap the moment they 
 released her. 
 
 For this morning, in spite of the heat, 
 a great function was going on at the White 
 House in honor of a foreign dignitary. And 
 among the uniforms, the plumes, the gold 
 lace, the airy summer toilettes, the magnifi 
 cence of flowers, the perfumes, the regal 
 band music, the deputies of States and 
 Kings, a little woman had presented herself, 
 clothed in shabby mourning, but with a mien 
 there was no gainsaying ; and pausing in 
 front of the President and the line of receiv- 
 [230] 
 
A LITTLE OLD WOMAN 
 
 ing ladies, and the astonished groups gath 
 ered about the blue dais-seat behind, she 
 had taken with difficulty some folded papers 
 from her pocket, and in a sweet, clear voice 
 had said, " I regret being obliged to dis 
 possess you, sir, but my duty to the the 
 absent to to one who cannot be here - 
 leaves me no alternative. And in the name 
 of Major Spence, of Mississippi, I hereby 
 call upon you to surrender, and I declare 
 his claim and right and title to the United 
 States, and to all the fields, forests, bottom 
 lands, rivers, bays, inlets, fisheries, and seas 
 adjoining, and " And horrified, insulted, 
 bewildered, Mrs. Spence found herself seized 
 and hustled and pushed and lifted outside 
 the gates on Pennsylvania Avenue, between 
 two policemen, before whom Beau had again 
 dropped his mantle of silence, and to whom 
 he was protesting as they hurried her along, 
 her feet hardly touching the ground, and her 
 soul quivering in anger. 
 
 " If this loidy has anny frins at all, at all," 
 one of them said at Mrs. McQueen s door, 
 " they Ve a roight to be lukin after her 
 beyant, so they have ! " 
 [231 ] 
 
OLD WASHINGTON 
 
 " Or it s to the asylum she 11 be spindin 
 the nights, begob ! " said the other. 
 
 And then Sammy Pleasants, coming along 
 at the moment, gave the men what appeared 
 to be satisfaction and took Mrs. Spence out 
 of the blazing sun. 
 
 " She ain t gwine come to he se f in dese 
 yere parts," said Beau, desperately, following 
 with the papers he had picked up, nearly 
 dead with homesickness, as he was himself. 
 " Jes git her home wid my Nanny an she d 
 be cuyored up in no time -a-settin on de 
 gallery wid de ole sights, de ole smells, an 
 habin de ole cookin ." 
 
 " I reckon you re right, Beau," said Mr. 
 Pleasants. 
 
 " My Nanny, she des natchully mek an 
 eyester melt in yo mouf, Cap n, like a drap 
 o dew does." 
 
 " We 11 try it," said Mr. Pleasants. 
 
 " Yassah," said Beau. " An dere ain 
 nott n beats a trial but a failure ; I heern de 
 Major say so hese f." 
 
 And Mr. Pleasants helped Mrs. Spence 
 up the stairway and proceeded to call a 
 council of her friends. 
 
A LITTLE OLD WOMAN 
 
 " It is evident," he said to them, "that Mrs. 
 Spence must not remain here. Removed 
 from these excitements and placed in the 
 old scenes, frail as she is, she may recover. 
 Now," continued the young lawyer, looking 
 Miss Sarah out of countenance, " as I lately 
 drew up the will that made John Cumnor 
 and Sarah Woodbury her heirs, it seems to 
 me it is their duty to take her home and 
 manage the plantations for her and make 
 her happy " 
 
 " Sammy Pleasants ! " cried Miss Raleigh, 
 " you are a genius ! You are the best man 
 in the world ! " 
 
 " Till she forgets the claim - 
 
 "Oh, claim!" said Miss Raleigh. "It 
 makes me tired ! I wonder if Major Spence 
 was such a supernal being that she must 
 needs sacrifice herself, body and soul " 
 
 " He was to her ; a supernal being. But 
 well at Mobile, at Bay St. Louis, Biloxi, 
 New Orleans, and contiguous territory, he 
 was as gay an old boy as ever set em up 
 all round." 
 
 " Oh ! " said Miss Sarah, as if a piece of 
 precious china had been broken. 
 [233] 
 
OLD WASHINGTON 
 
 " I m sorry," said Miss Raleigh. " But it 
 might have been worse. And we all have 
 our ideals." And lest the look she gave 
 should unduly elate him, she added, " Even 
 you have your faults, Sammy." 
 
 It was a pretty wedding that afternoon, 
 for all the wilting heat, although Mrs. Mc 
 Queen had had so little time, with prepara 
 tions to make and trunks to pack. She was 
 warm and tired ; but there was a wedding 
 cake from the confectioner s, and the parlor 
 was wreathed with long stems of the grape 
 vine, and there was a wilderness of pale pink 
 and purply-black and crimson roses every 
 where, which the Californian had brought 
 in. And Miss Sarah looked as darkly beau 
 tiful as the Princess Sarah of old, when 
 Pharaoh desired her beauty and her hus 
 band hid her and passed her on as a chest of 
 pearls. Inside all was dusk and fragrance ; 
 outside the air quivered with blue films of 
 late afternoon among the treetops tossing in 
 the hot wind, and among the high marble 
 terraces and shining pillars in the opulence 
 of sky and heat a heat that made one long 
 for night in the sylvan recesses where the 
 
A LITTLE OLD WOMAN 
 
 Potomac narrows ; for the dark fording of 
 the stream, and the coming into moonlight 
 from the forest ; for the climbing of George 
 town Heights, and the sweeping by villas 
 hidden in gloom and gleam of garden and 
 fountain, the wind blowing gales of sweet 
 ness nights which were to be part of the 
 delight of Raleigh and her husband through 
 many a summer to come. 
 
 " Raleigh," Sammy had whispered, with 
 eager but subdued emphasis, just before the 
 benediction given John Cumnor and his wife, 
 " there 11 never be a better time for " 
 
 " Sammy," she had whispered in return, 
 as she bent toward him, her face the color 
 of one of the damask roses, " be quiet ! " 
 
 " But, Raleigh, if we " 
 
 " I Ve never promised except well, 
 except three or four people incidentally. 
 Now be still ! Besides, I Ve told you I 
 must keep on with my office." 
 
 " But I don t want you to, love," every 
 honest freckle starting into relief. 
 
 " That makes no difference. I want to. 
 Johnny will need the money for two or 
 three years, anyway." 
 
 [235] 
 
OLD WASHINGTON 
 
 " Two or three years ! " 
 
 " Hush ! hush ! " in a still more strenuous 
 whisper. 
 
 "Raleigh! We will be married now 
 in two minutes or never ! " 
 
 And Mr. Pleasants had nodded to the 
 minister and had produced the license, with 
 which he had warily armed himself against 
 a peradventure, and had taken her hand. 
 " Pears like foh Miss Raleigh could say 
 yes, high or no, she was Mis Pleasants," 
 said Beau, subsequently. 
 
 It was a few years later that Mrs. Pleasants 
 was visiting her brother at Beaumarais. The 
 sky was velvety blue that morning ; the 
 roses climbed about the main building that 
 had once been partly burned ; the passion 
 flowers, the jasmines, overlay it in masses ; 
 and a wild orange-tree, that had grown 
 there, rose in a tower of bloom above the 
 ruin. Three or four children, white and 
 black, tumbled together in the broad walk 
 before the wing which was now the mansion, 
 and made one who had seen it think of Bab- 
 cock s painting of the little heaven children 
 come down to play with the little children 
 [236] 
 
A LITTLE OLD WOMAN 
 
 of earth. Mr. John Cumnor, sunburned 
 and stalwart, his hat over his eyes, had 
 strolled up from the ploughing and leaned 
 against a pillar of the gallery watching the 
 babies play. His wife (whose marmalade 
 of bitter oranges, by the way, made from a 
 recipe of Nanny s, commands a large sale 
 in the North), white-robed and dark and 
 starry now, paused in the doorway, with 
 Raleigh s arm about her, breaking off a 
 long wreath of jasmine as she smiled at 
 him. And a little old woman, lying back 
 in a chair, behind which Beau towered like 
 a black marble monolith, surveyed them all 
 with shining eyes, her face a transparency 
 with a clear flame behind it. Gazing at her 
 you seemed to see a visible soul. Her eyes 
 looked out as stars do through drifting clouds 
 of night, and now and then a light like 
 dawn glowed with a kindling thought. You 
 fancied that soul you saw was one already 
 gone over to the other life, but called back 
 to the verge again by love. 
 
 " Dear," said Mrs. Spence to Raleigh, who 
 came presently and sat beside her, " I can 
 not help thinking what pleasure all this 
 [237] 
 
OLD WASHINGTON 
 
 would be to Major Spence. I went away, 
 1 remember somewhere I suppose he 
 must have sent me for I brought back all 
 this brightness and blessing with me. He 
 had such a warm heart. He so loved to 
 give pleasure himself. I don t see how any 
 one could be willing to injure him ; but I 
 believe the Government did in some in 
 comprehensible way I was never very 
 good at politics. However, I am sure he 
 overlooked it. And this would make him 
 forget any trouble." 
 
 " Dear heart ! " said Raleigh, clasping the 
 little hand. 
 
 " Do you know, my love, now and then 
 it comes across me here that possibly it 
 is all so bright, so sweet, so still this 
 this might be heaven? If Major Spence 
 were here I should sometimes think it was." 
 
 "Perhaps he is. Who knows?" said 
 Raleigh. 
 
 But the doubt brought Mrs. Spence back 
 to the earthly parallels. "We are very 
 content here, are we not ? " she continued 
 presently. " I often wonder why the good 
 Lord favored this country so much more 
 [238] 
 
A LITTLE OLD WOMAN 
 
 than harder, colder ones. But sometimes, 
 I am half ashamed to say, I have a dreadful 
 dream that our gentle life here might be 
 disturbed that some one has something 
 called a claim that there is possibly a 
 claim to something which I ought to assert 
 for the sake of these dear people. Is there 
 anything anywhere in dispute ? Tell me, if 
 you will, do you know anything about it ? " 
 "Dear Mrs. Spence," Raleigh answered, 
 " you have established your claim to peace, 
 and no one ever will dispute it." 
 
 [ 239 ] 
 
V 
 
 The Colonel s Christmas 
 
The Colonel s Christmas 
 
 MORE or less primitive the large old 
 village was, with its purple cloak 
 of encircling hills. It is no wonder 
 that to most of the Hillburn people the 
 great Judge Alexander s place seemed to 
 compass all that they had ever dreamed 
 of kings palaces. 
 
 It did so to Charles Monck, at any rate, 
 as now and then his errand brought him 
 into the charmed precincts of Greylock and 
 its gardens, where the box hedges grew 
 tall as in only one or two other spots 
 in that part of the country, where there 
 were roses of every tint that roses blow, 
 where the lilies kept their ranks of snow 
 and gold, and the great hollyhocks stood 
 up on their stems like Fra Angelico s angels 
 in their red gowns, their purple and their 
 yellow robes pictures he came to know 
 later within the house, the house whose 
 wings and bays were veiled with the creeper 
 [243] 
 
OLD W ASHINGTON 
 
 that made it seem in summer almost a part 
 of the forest behind and above it, and in the 
 fall reddened it with deeper and richer tints 
 than belonged to its dull old bricks. Some 
 of those bricks had been brought across 
 seas by the Judge s people more than two 
 hundred years ago. 
 
 The Judge had no people now ; his race 
 had dwindled to a solitary representative, 
 and his little daughter had not a relative 
 in the world except himself. And within 
 the house, as the boy sometimes saw, it 
 was a place of soft-piled carpet and marble 
 stair, of long portraits lining the wall, of 
 bronzes and books and rare china and old 
 silver, none of which at the time he knew 
 by name, but all of which spoke to the love 
 of beauty in his inmost soul and made him 
 long to have, at some day, such a house 
 of his own and such a fairy creature in it 
 as Annis, the Judge s daughter, whom he 
 sometimes saw dancing down the long hall, 
 with her burnished hair streaming about 
 her, who lingered looking at him as he 
 went away. Now and then, too, he saw 
 her at church, so demure and still that he 
 
THE COLONEL S CHRISTMAS 
 
 could only think her like one of the young 
 girls in Fox s Book of Martyrs, with which 
 volume he had beguiled many a dreadful 
 hour. At such times she never glanced at 
 him or if she did it was when the sermon 
 had sent him sound asleep. For what eyes 
 should Annis Alexander have for the boy 
 who drove the farmer s cows ? Once he 
 met her in a lane where she was trying to 
 pull the last rose from the top of a tall 
 wild brier, and he paused and reached and 
 broke it off for her, his cheeks tingling, his 
 dark eyes flaming ; going then his way with 
 out waiting to see that the little lady s face 
 was the color of her rose. 
 
 And then an opening had come for the 
 lad into the outer world ; and he had left 
 the village and its great house and its gar 
 dens and lilies and hollyhocks and a thou 
 sand dreams behind him, and had entered 
 into the business of life. Once in a while 
 he had news of the old hamlet his own 
 kindred were all dead and gone ; he heard 
 of the coming of the railway a mile or two 
 away, still leaving the place delightfully 
 remote from noise and bustle ; he heard of 
 [245] 
 
OLD WASHINGTON 
 
 the marriage and departure of Annis, of the 
 death of the Judge s farmer, and that little 
 Ellie, his child, was managing a farm of her 
 own. He sent her once the money to pay 
 off its mortgage, although she never knew 
 from whence it came. He used to dream 
 of the old place, when he had leisure to 
 think of anything but cent per cent ; the 
 red hollyhocks stood out in his memory 
 at such times like living personages. He 
 heard incidentally of the death of the Judge. 
 When, finally, he heard that Greylock had 
 been sold to strangers, all his interest in the 
 town seemed to have vanished. But when, 
 by and by, he also heard that the strangers 
 wished to sell, he went up to the place and 
 drove a bargain for Greylock on the spot. 
 
 The old Alexander place was his at last. 
 The traces of the strangers he had removed 
 as far as possible, and made the place as 
 much like what it used to be as modern 
 wealth allowed ; he laid rich rugs on the 
 stone and oaken floors, he hung silken 
 hangings at the deep casements, but he 
 kept the colors and ideas that the house 
 had formerly. He hunted up a number 
 [246] 
 
THE COLONEL s CHRISTMAS 
 
 of the old portraits that had drifted off here 
 and there from sale to sale, and if he added 
 to them some marvellous French landscapes 
 and Spanish figure pieces, he did it with 
 the taste and knowledge he had made his 
 own in his city life and in his foreign travel. 
 And there were books, and portfolios of 
 prints, and fine trifles on which art had 
 expended beauty and money too ; and the 
 house was still wreathed with its creeper 
 and honeysuckles in summer, and in fall 
 great logs blazed in the chimneys. And 
 the new owner closed his various branches 
 of business a rich man now, well past 
 forty and came up to Greylock, and made 
 his home there, and found that no home 
 was good for anything without a wife, and 
 bemoaned himself that he had been so busy 
 making money and informing himself how 
 to spend it that he had had time to make 
 the acquaintance of no one who could supply 
 the element without which his house was so 
 lonely and his life so barren. He wished 
 he had made friends with the minister s 
 daughter while there was yet time, and 
 before she had gone elsewhere. He even 
 [247] 
 
OLD WASHINGTON 
 
 thought whether or not Ellie, the farm 
 manager, would fill the deep armchair 
 within the Flemish screen on the other side 
 of the library fire ; but one glimpse of a face 
 like old ivory answered him. As for Annis 
 Alexander, she was only a remembrance ; 
 something of the nimbus of the Judge s 
 superior glory surrounded her still in his 
 thought ; he would never have regretted 
 her, for it would never have crossed his 
 mind that she could have been within his 
 reach. He did wonder more than once 
 what had become of the minister s daughter 
 -he remembered how she sang on summer 
 nights ; but he doubted if the girl had even 
 known his name. He was a humble-minded 
 man, for all his success and his money ; these 
 called him Squire, and those called him 
 Colonel he had had command of a fancy 
 regiment once for a short time ; but to him 
 self, in his inmost consciousness, he was 
 always the plain farmer s boy going after 
 the cows, and possessed of an intimate 
 diffidence. 
 
 Not that he did not know all the advan 
 tage of wealth ; what it was to be a power 
 [248] 
 
THE COLONEL* s CHRISTMAS 
 
 on Wall Street, what it was even in the 
 village, that had grown into a region of 
 costly summer places, to be the master of 
 Greylock indeed, there were many mem 
 bers of the summer throng that were not 
 slow to teach it to him. But he knew that 
 something much more quiet and simple than 
 followed in their train was what he needed ; 
 their life was foreign to his pleasure. His 
 heart warmed to none of them ; they were 
 too fine, too splendid and pictorial, with 
 their plumes and ribbons, the sweep of their 
 gowns, their airs of fashion, far too fine for 
 the taste of the farm hand. For even after 
 his long years of business, after his travels 
 about the world, his days passed in galleries 
 and his nights at operas, he called himself 
 a farm hand still, happier looking over his 
 cattle, and planning his crops, and setting 
 out hedges, and developing new seedlings, 
 than in doing anything else. Yet when he 
 sat down at his lonely dinner table, finer 
 than the Judge s ever was, with a butler 
 standing behind him as pompous as the 
 Judge himself, " I am as solitary," he said, 
 "as the pelican in the wilderness." 
 [249] 
 
OLD WASHINGTON 
 
 He felt it in the summer twilights, as 
 the mountain stood out black before the 
 paling sunset, as the dew fell, the perfumes 
 wandered faintly from rose and carnation, 
 and the whippoorwills in the wood below 
 began calling to one another, far off and 
 sweet ; he felt it beside the fire that wal 
 lowed up the chimney in the late autumn 
 or the early winter nights. " What would 
 I give," he said to himself, " if there were a 
 wife and children here, and there were to be 
 anything like the Christmas cheer that be 
 longs to a place in which a man without wife 
 and children has no right to live ! " And he 
 had his bag packed, and made off now to 
 this city and now to that, as regularly as 
 the snows whitened Greylock and gave him 
 new longing for the Christmas joyances that 
 should belong to home. He envied then 
 the men he saw buying gifts, the crowds 
 bearing parcels ; he felt defrauded that he 
 had no one whom he could make glad with 
 anything but charity. He made to himself 
 some feint of business to hinder the weari 
 ness that sometimes fell upon him in such 
 wise that it seemed better to risk and lose 
 [ 250] 
 
THE COLONEL S CHRISTMAS 
 
 all he had than to go on in this humdrum 
 fashion of success, without a stir in his life. 
 
 Some interest in Departmental affairs 
 took him in one of these late autumn 
 seasons to Washington. It was tiresome. 
 He might have found pleasure in the de 
 bates, but Congress had not yet assembled. 
 He spent a little time in the Departments ; 
 a little time in the clubs, and won and lost a 
 little money ; a little time in the Library ; 
 a good deal of time in the hotel lobbies ; it 
 was all rather a bore ; the only thing he en 
 joyed at all was driving about the streets, 
 that gave him some half a hundred miles of 
 velvet to drive over, with a high-stepping 
 horse he had. And thus it happened that, 
 a sudden tempest of rain coming up and 
 making the concrete slippery as glass, the 
 horse fell and threw Colonel Monck out, 
 his head striking against an edge of sharp 
 granite, and when he was picked up and 
 carried into Mrs. McQueen s boarding-house, 
 near at hand, and the doctor summoned, it 
 was discovered that his ankle was badly in 
 jured, and it was thought best, on account 
 of the wound on his head, to leave him 
 [251] 
 
OLD WASHINGTON 
 
 where he was rather than take him to his 
 hotel, the letters in his pocket showing that 
 he was Colonel Monck, and that he was 
 staying at the Arlington. 
 
 " The poor soul ! the poor soul ! " he heard 
 a voice murmuring far away outside, it 
 seemed. "To think it was our carriage 
 step ! Oh, I am so glad he is here to be 
 taken care of! No, no, .no, doctor, don t 
 speak of it a hospital ! Do you think any 
 one of those nurses will take the care of him 
 that I shall?" 
 
 " I doubt if you have not enough to do, 
 without this, Mrs. McQueen," said Doctor 
 John. 
 
 " I can manage," sang the cheery voice. 
 " I shall think all the time, what if it were 
 my Archie ? " 
 
 " Your Archie is a boy of fifteen, and this 
 is a man of fifty or thereabouts." 
 
 " Archie will be fifty some day if he lives," 
 said the little mother. " And he may need 
 a good turn. I 11 pass it on. And Milly 
 can wait on me, and Florry can do the mar 
 keting she has gone with me once in a 
 while, and it s time she took some respon- 
 
THE COLONEL S CHRISTMAS 
 
 sibility. Or I can get Mrs. Jack Knowles 
 Tolly to help. Oh, we can manage it ! " 
 and she tied her worn black bonnet strings 
 with determination. 
 
 "Very well," said the doctor. "I will 
 be in again this evening, and then possibly 
 we can decide more intelligently what is 
 best." 
 
 And when he came again Colonel Monck 
 was quite himself and able to express a 
 preference for staying where he was. Not 
 that it made much matter he was toler 
 ably disgusted with fate and things in gen 
 eral ; but the hands were tender here, the 
 voice was kind, the way was gentle, and for 
 all he could see he was as well off in this 
 third-rate boarding-house as he would be 
 anywhere else, and could have as much of a 
 Christmas here as at the Arlington. 
 
 In fact, in a very few days the Colonel 
 was as well as ever, except for the injured 
 ankle, which, however, was mending rapidly ; 
 and he had begun to find the situation a trifle 
 more interesting than life in the lobbies. 
 There was the little woman herself, whom 
 nearly every one in the house, with conde- 
 [253] 
 
OLD WASHINGTON 
 
 scending patronage or kindly familiarity, 
 called Queenie, a new character in his 
 experience shabby, a black veil always 
 wrapped about her head when she was not 
 wearing the old black bonnet, forever at 
 the call of all the various household, and 
 unchangeably gentle and smiling and silver- 
 tongued ; no sort of a manager, and making 
 up for her lack in that direction, and the 
 poverty which obliged her to do with poor 
 service, by the unceasing effort and industry 
 of her tireless hands and feet. There were 
 the boarders, too, going up and down by the 
 open door some clerks, men and women ; 
 the private secretary of a cabinet officer ; a 
 yellow-haired lady with a claim upon the 
 Government, and a congressman who came 
 to see her about pressing it ; a politician 
 staying temporarily while urging his right 
 to an office, but bidding fair to make a 
 winter of it ; and a widow of narrow means 
 and wide ambitions, and her companion, who 
 spent the cold weather there. And there 
 were Milly, the dark-haired stepdaughter 
 of the landlady, who sat at the head of the 
 table and wore a good deal of tarnished 
 
THE COLONEL s CHRISTMAS 
 
 splendor; and Florry, the fair-haired one, 
 quite as splendid as her sister ; and Archie, 
 the boy who was studying might and main 
 and was the only real help his mother had, 
 besides the slatternly colored girls with their 
 hair braided all the week in little pigtails, 
 which gave their heads a strange resem 
 blance to the porcupine jars in which hya 
 cinth bulbs are just sprouting. Archie came 
 in and read him the evening papers ; one and 
 another of the boarders called, and some he 
 asked to call again not the yellow-haired 
 lady, nor the gentleman who tumbled up 
 stairs after midnight. He saw Miss Milly 
 now and then whisking by the door in a 
 dressing-gown and crimps, and later in the 
 day she dropped in, with her war-paint and 
 feathers on, to tell him stories of the fine 
 people whom she did not know by sight, 
 and give him accounts of the dinners and 
 receptions for which her soul longed and for 
 which he did not care a farthing, and to talk 
 of the dramatic heroes and heroines and 
 express her delight in the theatre, where 
 on fortunate nights she could see and be 
 come a part of the world she admired. And 
 [255] 
 
OLD WASHINGTON 
 
 Miss Florry set the doors open and played 
 to him from the drawing-room such music 
 as was hers and she had not a little talent 
 at the piano and came in afterward for 
 her reward in the admiration that a man of 
 the world should not but feel for a young 
 woman who managed marvellously the train 
 of her gown and had no other particular 
 recommendation. In fact, the whole family 
 understood that they had among them a man 
 to be made the most of, a millionnaire sort of 
 man, whose like they had not fallen in with 
 before and might not meet again ; and the 
 widow of narrow means confided to him her 
 woes ; her companion had woes of quite as 
 much weight ; one of the clerks told him 
 the virtues and uses of a small capital in 
 lending money at usurious interest in the 
 Departments ; and the other clerk told him 
 of the family at home dependent on his 
 salary, and of his daily suffering through 
 fear of the sight of the heart-breaking yellow 
 envelope. And one of the office-seekers 
 came in and fought over the battles of the 
 Wilderness, in which he had borne part, and 
 explained to him the mistakes of Grant and 
 [256] 
 
THE COLONEL s CHRISTMAS 
 
 Lee ; and even the airy private secretary, 
 who was by no means on the pinnacle he 
 had enjoyed before the Colonel came, con 
 descended occasionally to hint to him the 
 real facts about the situation of various pub 
 lic affairs. The Colonel thought he might 
 be able to put the clerk who lived with that 
 yellow sword of Damocles over his head in a 
 more permanent situation. He even prom 
 ised to exert what influence he had for the 
 man who had had no chance to direct the 
 great battles as they should have been 
 directed. He pitied the widow, and he 
 surreptitiously offered the companion a rail 
 road ticket home if she felt her bonds un 
 endurable. And he sent Archie to buy a 
 frequent box at the theatre, which such 
 of the family as pleased should occupy, of 
 which Miss Milly and Miss Florry forthwith 
 made themselves proprietors, sailing forth in 
 great style and holding the fort of the two 
 front seats, chaperoned by the widow, and 
 asking whom they pleased to join them. 
 They had before been able to go (in no sort 
 of style at all) only when Miss Virginia 
 Cantrell sent them tickets for her nights, but 
 n [ 257 ] 
 
O L D WASHINGTON 
 
 since Miss Jinny s marriage to her Jerome 
 there had been no tickets, anyway. 
 
 " Have n t you gone to the theatre ? " in 
 quired the Colonel, when this had happened 
 a second time, and the house was still, and 
 little Mrs. McQueen came in with a cup 
 of something appetizing. 
 
 " Oh, no," she answered him ; " of course 
 not." 
 
 " Why of course not ? " he asked, sur 
 prised. 
 
 " Oh, it is so long since I have been to 
 to such a place." 
 
 " That is no reason. What else ? " 
 
 " And I don t care about it." 
 
 " Why not ? " 
 
 " Why," she said, laughing out of a pair 
 of eyes that he noted, not for the first time, 
 were of the softest wine tints, "how can I 
 say? I am so accustomed to staying at 
 home." 
 
 " And letting those two girls go instead ! " 
 
 "You know," she said, " one can be young 
 but once." 
 
 " Young ! And how old are you, may I 
 ask ? " 
 
 [258] 
 
THE COLONEL S CHRISTMAS 
 
 " Oh, I don t think it is proper for you to 
 ask at all," she said. "You see, I can t be 
 very young, with Archie, and those two 
 great girls calling me mother, and my 
 own little Louie over in the convent. I 
 had just as lief you d know, though. It 
 doesn t really make any odds when one is 
 as old as I am. I am 1 shall be forty 
 my next birthday." And a pretty color 
 streamed up the soft oval of her cheek as 
 she made the mortifying statement. 
 
 "I shall be forty-five," said the Colonel. 
 " And I don t regard it as such a vast age. 
 In fact, I feel as if life were all ahead of 
 
 me." 
 
 " That is different. I suppose perhaps 
 I have lived more in forty years. At 
 any rate, I have had more trouble. And I 
 don t know anything that ages one like 
 trouble." 
 
 " Have you had trouble ? " asked the Col 
 onel, wincing a little just then with pain. 
 
 " Have I had anything else ? " she an 
 swered, with a smile that was like the 
 watery gleam of sunshine on a dull day. 
 " No, I should n t say so, when I have 
 [259] 
 
OLD WASHINGTON 
 
 Archie and Louie ! Oh let me loosen that 
 bandage. There that feels better ? Now 
 Archie will come and read to you. I have to 
 boil over the crab-apple jam, and it is a good 
 time to do it when I sha n t be interrupted." 
 Poor little woman, as the Colonel saw, 
 her interruptions were ceaseless. There 
 was a perpetual jangle of some one s bell, 
 which half the time she answered Beau, 
 who had gone home with his mistress, being 
 greatly missed, and the boy who came in 
 the middle of the day and officiated as but 
 ler and man-of-all-work, for his dinner, either 
 not being there, or taking too long to find 
 his clean apron ; and she always hurried 
 for the postman ; and she had to follow 
 Mirandy round with a second duster, or 
 go over the glasses with another towel ; 
 or she was coming up heated from sup 
 plying the slips in the kitchen ; or she 
 was patching Archie s clothes while Archie 
 sat beside her with his book, his arm over 
 her shoulder, she once in a while turning 
 her head to kiss his hand. And then Miss 
 Milly was asking her to mend a skirt for her ; 
 or Miss Florry wanted something downtown, 
 [260] 
 
THE COLONEL S CHRISTMAS 
 
 unable to go herself, and Mrs. McQueen 
 trudged out to get it and walked because 
 she must spare the car fare ; and this 
 boarder sent for her to see about nothing ; 
 and that boarder hunted her up to complain 
 about another nothing: and there was the 
 look of a hunted hare in her eyes, for it was 
 Mrs. McQueen here, and Ma there, and 
 Queenie in the other place, as if she 
 belonged to any one but herself; and 
 almost the only real pleasure she had in life 
 was when she could get over to the convent 
 with Archie and see her little Louie, who 
 was not so very little, after all. And 
 Colonel Monck, thinking it a good accident 
 that brought him here, where he might find 
 a side of life he had not known before, 
 began to think also that all the saints are 
 not on the calendar, but that one of them, 
 at least, was to be found in the drudge of 
 a Washington boarding-house. 
 
 " You know," said Miss Florry once, 
 when the Colonel intimated something of 
 the sort, " it is n t quite as if mamma were 
 really our mother 
 
 " Really your mother ! " cried the Colonel. 
 [261] 
 
OLD WASHINGTON 
 
 " Do you mean to say she is n t your 
 mother ? " 
 
 " My gracious ! Queenie ! No, indeed ! 
 I guess not," says Miss Florry. " Why, 
 papa married her when she was a widow 
 with two children ! It was very good of 
 papa. Our own mother why, she was one 
 of the Virginia Brierleys ! Then he was ill, 
 and she took care of him till he died ; and of 
 course we are sensible of it ; we are very 
 fond of Queenie. Papa, you know, lost 
 everything in the wah, and that is the reason 
 mamma takes boarders now. It seems hard 
 to have papa s name used so ; but she had 
 the furniture, you know," said Miss Florry, 
 taking the head of her hat-pin out of her 
 mouth. " And she either had to do that 
 or we had to to starve, I reckon. And 
 there it is, you see." 
 
 " I see," said the Colonel. 
 
 It was on returning from the theatre one 
 night, where they had enjoyed Colonel 
 Monck s box as box was never enjoyed 
 before, that Miss Milly and Miss Florry, in 
 the privacy of their hall chamber, were 
 combing out their pretty locks. 
 
THE COLONEL S CHRISTMAS 
 
 " I don t know, Florry," said her sister, 
 pausing, comb in air. " It looks like it. I 
 never saw more pointed attentions so 
 many flowers and bonbons and novels, and 
 this box at the National, and his horses 
 down to drive when we please. The only 
 thing the only thing " 
 
 " The only thing is that we don t know 
 which one of us it is," said Milly, as she 
 stood with her head bent, and the hair 
 drooping over her face in a veil, while she 
 flourished her brush vigorously. 
 
 "It s absurd, isn t it?" 
 
 " I hope it s you, Florry. I m sure I had 
 as lief it were you," said Milly, after a few 
 moments of silence, as she gave a screw to 
 the slip of lead in which she folded her crimp. 
 
 " You re very good, Milly. I don t 
 know. You are prettier than I ; but then 
 there s my music. But we Ve always 
 had each other s things, so that it really 
 would n t matter. Still, there 11 be dia 
 monds in this case ; but perhaps mine 
 would be enough for two. And they say 
 that country-seat of his is an earthly par 
 adise. I don t care ; whichever one of us 
 [263] 
 
OLD WASHINGTON 
 
 it is, we shall be together ; and, oh my ! to 
 have a home of our own, with no rent hang 
 ing over us, no bills to pay, no hateful, 
 hateful, insolent boarders oh, that would 
 be a heavenly paradise! It s true there s 
 this encumbrance ; but then he is really a 
 nice old gentleman. I could love him very 
 much if he were my father. My gracious ! 
 why can t he just adopt us ? " 
 
 " Well, he can come back a Member 
 whenever he pleases: perhaps just think 
 a senator ! And to be a senator s wife ! 
 To be here after the holidays, anyway, 
 senator or not, and give a cold stare to 
 those people who have given us their airs ! 
 Oh, one could marry a much worse-looking 
 man than he. He s not so very old, after 
 all. And really he s not bad-looking at all 
 when you think of Senator Bortle. And 
 Connie Gilroy might have married that 
 wretch if it hadn t been for Mr. Jack 
 Knowles." 
 
 " She never would ! " 
 
 " You would never think he was just 
 sprung from the people. And papa s 
 family " 
 
 [264] 
 
THE COLONEL s CHRISTMAS 
 
 " Oh, I m sick of papa s family," dabbling 
 in the cold cream. " What has it ever 
 done for us? Not half so much as little 
 Queenie here. And I Ve made up my 
 mind ! If he asks me I shall take the 
 goods the gods provide. Oh, the exquisite 
 relief of daring to look the grocer in the 
 face!" 
 
 " The delight of silk stockings !" 
 
 " How extravagant you are ! I only ask 
 for enough lisle-thread ones never to have 
 to darn any. And to be able to wear all 
 the white skirts I want " 
 
 "What daydreams! I m afraid none of 
 them can come to pass. But if they did, 
 Queenie should never do another day s 
 work. She does too much already. I m 
 ashamed of it I m always meaning to 
 reform. She has all the wrong side, and we 
 have all the right if there is any right. 
 If we were going to stay here I think I 
 should make a fresh deal and take a little 
 more on my shoulders, at any rate. Oh, 
 it s too good to be true. There! You 
 ready ? " And out went the gas, and left 
 them to their slumbers, and the dreams of 
 [265] 
 
OLD WASHINGTON 
 
 Worth and Pingat and Felix, with stray 
 flashes of diamonds and prancing of horses, 
 and cold eyes of hostile women, and 
 Queenie in a towering hat and feathers, 
 and girls who were themselves and not 
 themselves, and Colonel Monck in sack 
 cloth and ashes. 
 
 The poor Colonel, unconscious of all this 
 way in which the Fates carried themselves 
 concerning him, was meanwhile turning 
 over quite different thoughts in his mind, 
 now burning with indignation as he saw the 
 way in which the little woman was at the 
 beck and call of any one in the house 
 " People not fit to lace her shoes ! " said the 
 Colonel ; and now his heart warm with pity 
 as he saw her willingness, her patience, her 
 untiring way of taking things for granted 
 that amounted to sweetness, her perpetual 
 answer to the perpetual demands early in 
 the morning or late at night, having her 
 bite and sup when she could get it and 
 at any hour, humble as if from long habit 
 she never thought of being anything but 
 glad and grateful that she was allowed to 
 breathe, ready to do more and have less were 
 [266] 
 
THE COLONEL s CHRISTMAS 
 
 it necessary for Archie s and Louie s sake. 
 His eyes followed her, and his ears listened 
 for her, and he found himself wondering and 
 fuming, and then asking angrily what busi 
 ness it was of his, and wondering and 
 watching again. 
 
 " What did you marry Mr. McQueen 
 for ? " he asked the little woman, abruptly, 
 as she bandaged his ankle one night, the 
 girls and various others having gone to 
 make the most of the theatre box, and he 
 and Mrs. McQueen being quite alone. 
 
 She started so that the black bonnet fell 
 on one side and caught in a pin, and put 
 tumbled a cataract of rich dark red hair, full 
 of golden lights and waves ; and the more 
 she tried to restrain it, the more it would 
 come, till she had to fling the bonnet off 
 altogether and attend to gathering the 
 great masses into their coil again. 
 
 " Why in the world do you always cover 
 up such hair as that ? " he exclaimed. 
 
 " Oh, " she answered, " with Milly and 
 Florry round young ladies, you know 
 and I their papa s widow it it would n t 
 do, you know." 
 
 [267] 
 
OLD W ASHING TON 
 
 "It wouldn t do?" said he. "And so 
 you efface yourself that they may be seen I 
 If you gave any one a chance to look at 
 you if you dressed like some of the 
 women I have seen, you d be younger than 
 the whole kit of them ! " 
 
 " I ? Oh, you forget ! I told you I was 
 almost forty and and twice a widow," 
 she added, with a pathetic sort of sigh. 
 
 "You didn t tell me why you married 
 Mr. McQueen," he insisted then. 
 
 " I don t know why," she said, after a 
 moment, looking down and intent upon her 
 work. " He was so poor, and he had these 
 young girls, and no one to see to them or to 
 do for them or for him either. And I 
 had, at any rate, a kind of a home. And 
 the girls were running wild. He was quite 
 the gentleman a gentleman of the old 
 school they call it, you know But he was 
 a man. And a man is so helpless," said the 
 forlorn little woman. 
 
 " And is that the reason you married 
 him?" 
 
 "I don t know. I can t exactly tell 
 he said I had better he said I must and 
 [268] 
 
THE COLONEL s CHRISTMAS 
 
 I did. I thought it would be good for 
 Archie to have a father. And he was very 
 fond of me, I think. He only lived a little 
 while." 
 
 " And were you fond of him ? " asked the 
 remorseless Colonel. 
 
 " I - 1 pitied him. Do I hurt you ? " 
 
 "You? With those fingers? They are 
 like the touch of rose leaves. Could they 
 hurt any one ? However yes, that s easier 
 has a man only to say you must marry 
 him for you to obey ? Tell me another 
 thing now : did you love your first hus 
 band ? " 
 
 " I was sure I did at first," she said. 
 "Now I wouldn t ask any more questions." 
 
 " Yes ; I want to know all about you. 
 When did you find out you did n t ? " 
 
 " Oh, too soon ! too soon ! " she cried, in 
 a sudden gust of tears, letting the bandage 
 fall, standing up, and dashing the drops off 
 with both hands. 
 
 " Tell me all about it," said the Colonel, 
 reaching up and taking one of the hands 
 and pulling her to a seat on the lounge 
 beside himself. 
 
 [269] 
 
OLD WASHINGTON 
 
 " I was very young I was not what 
 you see me I was as well born as as 
 any one," she said between her sobs. " He 
 brought me here we were on the top of 
 the wave oh, it is hard, hard, hard to re 
 call it - 
 
 " Don t, then don t, my dear," said the 
 Colonel. 
 
 " It was all right while my dear father 
 lived. And then he ran through with the 
 money ; he had horses, yachts, wine parties 
 oh, it was fine till it was dreadful ! He 
 gambled. He drank. I don t know what 
 he did n t do. I know he beat me ! Oh, 
 what am I saying to you ? Archie s father ! 
 But it is true. When I I hesitated 
 about giving him the last of the money, he 
 would threaten me with killing himself. I 
 gave it to him. He did kill himself one 
 day poor soul ! oh, poor soul ! And I 
 had nothing left but the house ; they took 
 the house for his debts, but they gave me 
 the furniture. We lived on the sale of the 
 pictures and books and marbles a while. 
 And there were Archie and Louie, and 
 the disgrace the disgrace of it ! " she cried, 
 [270] 
 
THE COLONEL s CHRISTMAS 
 
 burying her face in the bonnet that she 
 groped for and found. "I hid myself" 
 as the Colonel took away the bonnet "I 
 hid myself ! I tied up my hair ; I kept 
 under my veil. People forgot me. I pass 
 them now they used to dine at my table 
 -they never know me. I know they 
 don t ! But at last we had to do some 
 thing and the boarders were different 
 persons from those we had known and 
 we had been so poor, so half famished, I felt 
 as if they were guardian angels when they 
 came. And then Mr. McQueen asked to 
 come, with his girls and nothing was any 
 consequence and that is all." 
 
 " 1 suppose you never thought of marry 
 ing a third time ? " 
 
 " A third time ! " she cried, so indignantly 
 that her tears were like sparks of fire as 
 she faced him. " What do you take me 
 for ? " 
 
 "Very good men, and women too, have 
 married a third time, even when the other 
 times were not a mistake." 
 
 " Oh, I dare say ! " cried Mrs. McQueen, 
 tossing her head. " Very good. But I 
 [271] 
 
O L D WASHINGTON 
 
 should not like to tell them my opinion of 
 them ! " 
 
 " Let us see," said the Colonel, calmly. 
 " Your first husband abused you and ruined 
 you. Your next one was merely a matter 
 of charity with you. Why should you not 
 have a husband now who will be what the 
 word signifies, who could give you a home, 
 a rich and beautiful home indeed, and peace 
 and security and comfort in it, who could 
 give Archie the education he ought to have, 
 Louie the place in society she ought to 
 have, provide properly for these young 
 women and they might really be very 
 decent girls under different circumstances 
 who would protect you, confide in you, 
 honor you, love you? Queenie," said the 
 Colonel, " I have more money than I know 
 what to do with. I have a home," he said, 
 untroubled by any remembrance of Claude, 
 "with lawns and gardens about it, valley 
 and river below it, hills, great hills, behind 
 it. But what sort of a home is it ? It is so 
 lonesome it is like a tomb, and I have to 
 come away from it. If I had a wife there, 
 if there were young people moving about 
 
THE COLONEL s CHRISTMAS 
 
 the place, with their interests, their com 
 panions, their pets, their work, their pleas 
 ures, caring for me a little, growing to care 
 for me more, keeping me young oh, it is 
 very selfish but now that Christmas is 
 coming, and Christmas fires might be roll 
 ing up the big chimneys ah, who could 
 ask for more ? I am not young I have 
 none of the graces wooers ought to have. 
 But I could promise a wife care, gen 
 tleness, faithfulness, admiration oh, yes, 
 even love, if it were --if it were you, 
 Queenie ! " 
 
 "I?" 
 
 " Yes, you ! " 
 
 " I never thought of such a thing ! " 
 
 " Think of it now, then." 
 
 She had turned, looking in his face in her 
 amazement, her dark eyes glowing, the 
 color flushing up and down her thin cheeks, 
 her lips trembling they were delicate, finely 
 curved lips. In a moment the Colonel had 
 bent over and kissed them. And then he 
 gathered her in his arms and kissed her 
 again. "Just try to love me, Queenie," he 
 murmured. 
 
 is [ 273 ] 
 
OLD WASHINGTON 
 
 " Oh, I should n t have to try ! " sobbed 
 the little woman on his breast. 
 
 And that night the Colonel could not 
 sleep for seeing a fairy form flitting in pale 
 muslins between the snowy lilies and the red 
 hollyhocks of Greylock, lovelier in his sight 
 than any flower, in spite of her forty years. 
 
 " Doctor," said Colonel Monck, the next 
 morning, " I think this bandage can come 
 off now. I am quite sure I can stand alone 
 without it." 
 
 " Nothing rash, nothing precipitate, sir," 
 said the doctor. " We don t want to have 
 you lamed for life, you know." 
 
 "It is not much matter if I am. I have 
 a shoulder to lean on now. I am going to 
 be married. It is late ; but better late than 
 never. If you have nothing to hinder, will 
 you leave this note at Wormley s as you go 
 by ? It will bring me a friend who will 
 attend to some little formalities. And 
 will you send your bill ? Here, this is my 
 address, sir ; it will be attended to as soon 
 as I reach home. I shall leave for New 
 York this afternoon, thanks to your skill. 
 It is rare skill, my dear sir ; money, I am 
 
THE C o L o N E L s CHRISTMAS 
 
 aware, does not pay for such things. Some 
 time, when you need a season s rest, you 
 come to Greylock, and my wife will do 
 for you a part of what she has done for 
 me. And let me tell you, there will be 
 some pretty girls there my stepdaughters. 
 You re a young man, and it s a strange 
 thing, but young people find young people 
 pleasant company. Yes, nice girls, and with 
 good marriage portions, each of them," said 
 the unblushing Colonel, his happiness de 
 veloping in him new and singular powers 
 for matchmaking. " But I m in no hurry 
 to think of their leaving the place." 
 
 And the Colonel carried things with this 
 high hand over every one. When Queenie 
 protested that she must wait to get a gown, 
 he also protested that dresses, velvets, cash 
 meres, laces, diamonds, furs were to be had 
 in New York, and there they should be 
 found, and they would leave Hilly and 
 Florry to dismiss the enemy, sell the furni 
 ture, and give the landlord the key of the 
 house, and follow with Archie and Louie in 
 season for a Christmasing that should make 
 the old house thrill in all its timbers. 
 [275] 
 
OLD WASHINGTON 
 
 And leave that afternoon he did, his friend 
 attending to everything, and he himself not 
 looking at license or certificate, nor seeing 
 the amazement, the consternation, the self- 
 conscious glance, the look of shame, that 
 passed between the two young ladies when 
 he announced that he had been married 
 to their mother a half-hour before, Mr. 
 and Mrs. Pleasants, besides his friend from 
 Wormley s, having been the only witnesses, 
 - seeing only the soft rose- color on his 
 wife s cheek, the sweet droop to the pensive 
 mouth, the white eyelids with their long 
 dark fringes. And later, as he looked at the 
 great lance of light with which the Monu 
 ment pierced the winter blue of the vast sky, 
 and the mighty dome floating like a snowy 
 cloud above the sunset and just faintly 
 blushing in it while receding from him, he 
 breathed a benediction on the town for giv 
 ing what was to him its chiefest treasure. 
 
 And when he brought his wife to Grey- 
 lock, after a sufficient stay at the Windsor 
 for all purposes of apparel and finery, she 
 sitting now very still in the covered sleigh 
 and trembling so that he feared it was 
 [276] 
 
THE COLON EL S CHRISTMAS 
 
 with the cold, despite her royal sables, and 
 pulled the robes about her, and bade John 
 hurry the horses, and lifted her into the great 
 house, and seated her by the fire in a chair 
 that received her as if its deep close arms 
 gave her welcome, " This," he said, " is home 
 at last. My little darling, what makes you 
 tremble still ? Is it so strange to have love 
 and a home of your own once more ? " 
 
 " Oh ! " she cried, looking up at the por 
 trait of the old Judge that hung upon the 
 wall before her. " It always was my home. 
 You never asked me you do not seem to 
 know that I was Annis Alexander." 
 
 The Colonel was on one knee beside her. 
 If she had been a king s daughter it would 
 have been something less in his eyes. 
 
 " And you are my wife ! " he said. " To 
 think of it ! And I I drove your father s 
 cows. But a prince could not love you 
 
 more." 
 
 " You are more than a prince to me," she 
 cried. "You are the greatest, the best, 
 the most beautiful of men. We have lost 
 twenty years of life we should have had. 
 I knew it was you. I--I always loved 
 [277] 
 
OLD WASHINGTON 
 
 you at least I think I did. I know I 
 know I love you now ! " 
 
 And when, late in the next week, as the 
 twilight of Christmas eve was falling over 
 Grey lock, and the fires were flashing ruddily 
 through the deep windows, Colonel Monck 
 came in, his arms and pockets full of parcels, 
 and had a glimpse of Louie and Archie, with 
 their arms over each other s shoulders, half 
 buried in a lounge beside the hall chimney 
 and reading from the same book, while the 
 glow and flicker of the burning logs played 
 over them, and heard, tinkling under Florry s 
 fingers in the room beyond, the tune to 
 which in a mirror he saw Milly, holding 
 up her pretty dinner dress and dancing with 
 Celeste Dreer, who had come up for the holi 
 days, while at the sound of his feet stamp 
 ing off the snow they all sprang with joyous 
 greeting, and the gladdest greeting of all 
 was in the two tender brown eyes of a little 
 creature who looked in her silks and laces, 
 with her shining uncovered hair, almost as 
 much like a flower as a woman a happy 
 little woman who had bloomed into beauty 
 under the sunshine of his love then for 
 [278] 
 
THE COLONEL s CHRISTMAS 
 
 the first time in his life he knew what home 
 was. He looked about him at the rich and 
 lovely scene, at the yellow Persian cat rising 
 from the rug and arching its back and sweep 
 ing its feather of a tail in suspicion of the 
 great Dane who stalked at his heels, and 
 he noted the spicy perfume of the burning 
 logs, the fragrance of the flowers, and felt 
 that it was all his own, with a sort of fierce 
 joy at its being shut in by the wall of 
 storm without. 
 
 "This is happiness," he said to Queenie. 
 " This is something worth coming to. Now 
 we shall have Christmases, and birthdays, 
 and anniversaries, and by and by wed 
 ding days, and children going and chil 
 dren coming. And life has just begun to 
 be worth living ! " 
 
 [279] 
 
A New Novel by the Author of " Quo Vadis" 
 
 ON THE FIELD 
 OF GLORY 
 
 By HENRYK SIENKIEWICZ 
 
 Author of "Knights of the Cross" " With Fire and Sword," 
 " The Deluge," * Quo Vadis," etc. 
 
 Translated from the Polish by Jeremiah Curtin 
 12mo. Decorated Cloth, $1.50 
 
 This important work is the only one written by this 
 renowned author since the year 1900, when he completed 
 "Knights of the Cross." The scenes are laid in Poland, 
 and the period is the reign of the famous King John 
 Sobieski, just before the Turkish invasion in 1682 to 1683. 
 Sienkiewicz has woven a wonderful romance of great 
 brilliancy and strong character drawing, and in no book 
 by the author of " Quo Vadis" has he displayed his great 
 genius more strikingly. 
 
 He tells a charming, tender, and passionate love-story 
 of remarkable intensity, and gives the reader acquaintance 
 with characters not inferior in vigor and interest to those 
 of the great trilogy. The complete work has been trans 
 lated by Jeremiah Curtin. 
 
 LITTLE, BROWN, & CO., PUBLISHERS 
 254 WASHINGTON STREET, BOSTON 
 
A Distinctive Modern Romance 
 
 MAID OF ATHENS 
 
 By LAFAYETTE McLAWS 
 Author of ** When the Land Was Young," etc. 
 
 12mo. Decorated Cloth, $1.50 
 
 A romance of great charm dealing with Lord Byron s 
 career in Greece, his poems "Thyrza" and "Maid of 
 Athens" furnishing the talented novelist with the germ 
 of a love-story which will appeal to many besides those 
 interested in the poet s romantic life. The scenes on the 
 Bosphorus and in the Imperial harem at Stamboul, the 
 attempted rising of the Greeks against the Turks, and 
 Lord Byron s love for the " Maid of Athens," are pictured 
 with great vividness and power, and Thyrza, the daughter 
 of a Greek patriot, is one of the most lovable creations of 
 modern romantic fiction. 
 
 Readers of " When the Land Was Young " need not be 
 told that Miss McLaws is gifted with a wealth of creative 
 imagination. Her new book is laden with the atmosphere 
 of the early nineteenth century, and it is a living, breathing 
 woman whose love and sorrows thrill us in this story. 
 Byron himself, though vividly present in these pages, is 
 second in interest to the lovely Greek girl Thyrza, who is 
 depicted with a sympathetic touch due perhaps to the 
 author s Southern birth and temperament. 
 
 LITTLE, BROWN, & CO., PUBLISHERS 
 254 WASHINGTON STREET, BOSTON 
 
Richard Le Gallienne s New Book 
 
 PAINTED SHADOWS 
 
 By the Author of "The Love-Letters of the King," etc. 
 12mo. $1.50 
 
 MR. LE GALLIENNE S new book displays in a remarkable 
 degree his fine imagination, charming style, and the high 
 quality of his verse. " The Youth of Lady Constantia," " The 
 Wandering Home," "The Shadow of the Rose," "Beauty s 
 Portmanteau," and "Old Silver" are equal to his best work, 
 and the story which bears the title " Poet take Thy Lute " will 
 appeal especially to those who love what is best and most beau 
 tiful in literature. 
 
 The Heroine with the Marvellous Voice 
 
 SWEET PEGGY 
 
 By LINNIE SARAH HARRIS 
 With frontispiece. 12 mo. $1.50 
 
 A SUMMER idyll, with love, music, and nature for its themes, 
 and the mountains and lakes for its scenes. The heroine, 
 Peggy, is charming, fresh, and unconventional, with a genuine 
 love for song. The country neighbors with their peculiarities 
 give touches of both humor and pathos to this appealing story. 
 
 LITTLE, BROWN, & CO., PUBLISHERS, BOSTON 
 At all Bookseller,? 
 
A Powerful Novel of Married Life 
 
 THE BALLINGTONS 
 
 By FRANCES SQUIRE 
 445 pages. 12mo. Decorated cloth, $1.50 
 
 Incontestably the work of a genius. Buffalo News. 
 
 A masterly study of certain problems of married life. 
 Chicago Record-Herald. 
 
 A strong story of American social life. Thoughtfulness 
 of purpose, intensity of conviction, and vigor of treatment 
 are conspicuously apparent. New York Tribune. 
 
 One of the most brilliant novels of the season. Toledo 
 Blade. 
 
 Treats of a fresh and vital theme in a daring manner. 
 
 Louisville Times. 
 
 It is strong, fresh, original, purposeful, and it is full of 
 human interest. Detroit Free Press. 
 
 A wonderfully true presentation of marriage under cer 
 tain conditions, and of the inevitable effect upon a woman s 
 character. There is never a point where the author swerves 
 from absolute truth. The most remarkable novel that has 
 come to our desk for many a long day. New York Times. 
 
 LITTLE, BROWN, & CO., PUBLISHERS, BOSTON 
 At all Booksellers 
 

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