IN OLD WASHINGTON.
There were many arrangements to make. Only Mr. and Mrs. Mason knew how
really serious the case might be, and Mrs. Mason felt that she could
not accept the responsibility alone. Dixon, the overseer, was a good
manager and a trusty man, and his wife a very efficient woman. Indeed,
the older house slaves could have run the place without supervision,
but it was well to have a responsible head. Louis would come down
now and then and inspect the financial affairs, and bring Jaqueline
occasionally. It would not be quite like going to London, and Mr. Mason
might return if really needed.
So they packed up and put things in order, and went up to Washington
to settle Annis. Charles seemed really stronger, but the doctor knew
it was only excitement. Patty's house was so pretty and the office so
handy, the boy did not see why he could not remain with her.
The house was quite fine for the times. Land was abundant, and houses
did not have to crowd. There were spacious rooms, for people were
hospitably inclined. Southern women made charming hostesses. In an
ell part the doctor had an office, for he was quite ambitious in his
profession, if he had one eye on the advancement of the City. He had
rented one of his houses, and another was likely to be sold.
There were people who shook their heads dubiously and feared an
invasion; others reasoned there was so little prospect of booty
in Washington compared to the commercial cities, there could be no
possible danger.
Jaqueline had a pretty corner room. Opening into it was a smaller one
devoted to Annis, with its dainty bed curtained with white muslin and
fringe that nodded in the slightest breeze. The floor was painted,
and a rug made by the slaves at home lay at the bedside. Grandmother
had sent Patty the mahogany furnishing of one room that she had
brought from the Mason house when she was married, and it was quite an
heirloom. This was in Jaqueline's room.
The baby went far toward reconciling Annis. A pretty, plump little
thing, with great dark eyes and a fringe of dark hair over a white
forehead, she looked like a picture. Judy, one of the slaves from home,
was her nurse.
Yet the parting was very hard for Annis. The doctor had taken Charles
in his own carriage. They were to go to Baltimore and rest a day or two
and visit some of the connections.
Annis felt at first as if she must be visiting.
"And do you remember we came up to Mr. Madison's inauguration and went
to the Capitol? It seems as if it must have been years and years ago,
so many things have happened since then. And everybody seems grown up
except Charles and I."
"You were a tiny little girl then. I hope you will not be very
homesick; there are so many things to see. And when the horses are sent
up we can take beautiful rides."
Annis swallowed over a lump in her throat.
"The baby will grow and be very cunning. And every week you are to
write to mamma."
"And to Charles. I am not to mind not getting answers from him; it
makes his head ache to write."
"And, then, there are the children at Aunt Jane's. Her baby talks
everything in the funniest crooked fashion. To-morrow we will call on
Madame Badeau. I hope you will like school. It is only in the morning."
"I am fond of learning things if they are not too hard."
"Some of us have to learn quite hard lessons," and Jaqueline sighed.
Madame Badeau lived in a rather shabby-looking rough stone house, quite
small in the front, but plenty large enough for her and a serving-man
and maid, and running back to a pretty garden, where she cultivated all
manner of beautiful flowers, and such roses that lovers of them were
always begging a slip or piece of root. There was a parlor in the front
filled with the relics of better days, and draped with faded Oriental
fabrics that were the envy of some richer people. There was always a
curiously fragrant perfume in it. Next was the schoolroom, entered by
a side door, where there were small tables in lieu of desks, wooden
chairs, and a painted floor that the maid mopped up freshly every
afternoon when the children were gone. Back of this were the living
room and a very tiny kitchen, while upstairs were two rooms under the
peaked roof, where Madame and Bathsheba slept.
Madame was small, with a fair skin full of fine wrinkles. She wore a
row of curls across her forehead, a loosely wound, soft white turban
that gave her a curious dignity, and very high heels that made a little
click as she went around. She was quite delicate, and had exquisite
hands, and wore several curious rings. Her voice was so finely
modulated that it was like a strain of music, and she still used a
good many French words. She had been at the French court and seen the
great Franklin and many other notables, and had to fly in the Reign of
Terror, with the loss of friends and most of her fortune.
Bathsheba, the maid, was nearly six feet tall, and proud of some Indian
blood that gave her straight hair and an almost Grecian nose. She was
proud of her mistress too, and was in herself a bodyguard when Madame
went out. The old man who kept the garden clean and did outside work
was a slave too old for severe labor, and was hired out for a trifle.
At night he went home to sleep at the cabin of a grandchild.
Annis was attracted at once by the soft voice that ended a sentence
with a sort of caressing cadence. And when Jaqueline wrote her name in
full Madame said:
"Bouvier. That is French. Your mamma's maiden name, perhaps?"
"No," returned Annis, with a little color. "It was my own papa, who is
dead. And he could read and talk French. I knew a little, but I was so
young when he died."
"And our father married Mrs. Bouvier some years ago," said Jaqueline,
"so Annis and five of us Mason children constitute the family. Mrs.
Bouvier was cousin to our own mother."
"I shall take great pleasure in teaching you French. Poor France has
had much to suffer. And now that detestable Corsican is on the throne,
with no drop of royal blood in his veins! but you can tell what he
thinks of it when he divorces a good and honorable woman that his son
may inherit his rank. But my nation did not take kindly to a republic.
They are not like you," shaking her turbaned head.
The distance to school was not great, so in fair weather it was a nice
walk. Now the place is all squares and circles and rows of beautiful
houses, but then people almost wondered at the venturesomeness of Dr.
Collaston and Mr. Jettson building houses in country ways; for although
streets were laid out and named, there was little paving. The Mason
tract was on Virginia Avenue, but the others had gone back of the
Executive Mansion, on high ground, and had a fine view of the whole
country; and Georgetown being already attractive, it seemed possible
the space between would soon be in great demand.
Out beyond them were some fine old mansions belonging to the time of
plantations and country settlements. The very last of the preceding
century the Convent of the Visitation had been erected, for so many of
the Maryland gentry were Roman Catholics. There was a school for girls
here, mostly boarding scholars.
Then Rock Creek stretched way up on the heights, threading its path
in and out of plantations where fields were dotted with slaves at
their work, often singing songs with the soft monotonous refrain that
suggested the rhythm of the distant ocean. Occasionally you met a
silvery lake that bosomed waving shadows; then stretches of gigantic
oaks, somber pines, and hemlocks; and now and then a little nest of
Indian wigwams whose inhabitants preferred quasi-civilization.
To the southeast, on the Anacostia River, was the navy yard, active
enough now. And there was Duddington Manor, with its high wall and
stately trees overtopping it, built by Charles Carroll, to be for a
long while a famous landmark in solitary grandeur. But the Van Ness
mansion, nearer the Potomac, was always alight, and often strains of
music floated out on the night air to the enjoyment of the passer-by.
Annis had been living in a kind of old world, peopled with the heroes
of Homer, the knights of Arthur, and the pilgrims of Chaucer, as well
as Spenser's "Faërie Queene." She had a confused idea that Pope's
garden was in some of these enchanted countries, and that Ben Jonson
and Shakspere were among the pilgrims who sang songs and told tales as
they traveled on, or stopped at the roadside and acted a play. Charles
had learned where to place his heroes and who of them all were real.
Annis left the realm of imagination and fancy and came down to actual
study. At first she did not like it.
"But you must know something about modern events," declared Jaqueline,
"to read well and write a nice letter; and to understand the history
of our own country, which is all real. And to keep accounts--every
housekeeper ought to be able to do that. Grandmamma had to look after
the big plantation until papa came of age; and women have to do a good
many different things."
"I think I shall like learning them, or most of them," and Annis' eyes
shone.
"There is dancing, too; you must go in a class next winter. You can
embroider nicely, so you needn't bother about that. And I have been in
a painting class where there were some quite small girls. Some ladies
paint fans and flower pieces beautifully. And Patty thinks she will
have a pianoforte, which would be delightful. Singing classes are in
vogue, too."
"Oh, dear, can one learn so much?" and the child looked perplexed.
"You do not have to learn it all at once," returned the elder with a
smile.
Very few people had any thought of vacations then. True, Washington had
a dull spell when Congress was not in session, and some of the people
retired to country places or went to the Eastern Shore of Maryland,
or to Bladensburg to drink medicated waters. But Madame Badeau kept
her school going from eight to twelve for the children's classes. They
were all composed of girls, for while Madame admired well-bred young
men very much, she could not tolerate growing boys. The afternoons were
devoted to what were called fancy branches. Young women came to learn
embroidery and lace-making, the duties on foreign goods were so high,
and now the risk of importing was so great.
There began to be a different feeling about education. Intelligent
women were coming to the fore. To be sure, science was considered
unwomanly, but handsome and well-bred Mrs. Gallatin knew enough on
many subjects to entertain her husband's guests charmingly. Everybody
would have been horrified at the thought of a woman's college, and
if a woman's convention had been announced it would have created more
indignation than the war was raising.
Yet women with but few early advantages went to Madame Badeau to be
trained in conversation and the art of writing polite notes, and some
who had a facility for verse-making to learn how an acrostic was put
together, or an anagram, and the proper fashion for congratulatory
verses. A few women poets had appeared, but the French "blue stockings"
were quoted in derision. Still, it had occurred to other women beside
Mrs. Adams that the mothers of sons trained for perilous times needed
to be intelligent, at least.
For the first time Annis was thrown with a variety of girls near her
own age. None of them were like Varina--but, then, they were not like
each other. How strange there should be so many different kinds of
people in the world! It amazed her.
Jaqueline was much interested in her unfolding. There was a delicious
quaintness about her that contact with Madame Badeau brought out. She
had some very clear ideas too, and there was so much to write about.
"I shall have to send a letter to mamma one week and to Charles the
next," she said sagely. "Then I shall not tell the same things over."
"That is an excellent idea. You are a bright little girl," returned
Jaqueline with a smile.
"And it will save my own time. Jaqueline, can't we go to Washington
some time and really see it? One of the girls called me a country
lass because I did not know about the streets and the way everything
ran. And how queer they should be named after the letters and numbers!
What will they do when the letters are exhausted?--and there are but
twenty-six."
"There are the numbers, you know."
"But the numbers run criss-cross. Do you suppose they will go on as we
work a sampler, make little letters and then Old-English text? One girl
has the most beautiful Old-English alphabet worked in red silk, but it
is very hard to tell the letters."
Jaqueline laughed. "No! I think they will take names then."
"They make up parties and go to Analostan Island. And, do you know,
there are beautiful falls up the Potomac, ever so far!"
"Yes; they are beautiful, indeed; and we will get the doctor to take us
up some time."
"Everything is so"--glancing around for a word--"so interesting.
And there are so many people. I like it very much. Only if we could
have mamma and Charles and papa! Then, it would be mean to crowd out
Varina."
"We'll have the whole household at Christmas."
Louis was very much interested in the surprise and pleasure over
everything, and he found Annis quite a delightful companion for walks.
She was so eager to hear about the founding of the City.
"It has only come of age," said Louis. "For the cornerstone was laid in
1793."
"And there are cities in Europe over a thousand years old! Oh, what an
old world it must be!"
"But we are a new country altogether. Then, we have much older cities."
"After all," she said reflectively, "the ground was here. And some of
the houses and the people."
They were still working on the Capitol. Stonecutters and
marble-dressers in their little sheds were a common sight.
A great many people went to Christ Church, which had been erected soon
after the laying out of the City. Then there was old St. Paul's, that
had stood nearly a century, built, as many other places were, of brick
brought from England. Since that day many a secret had been learned,
and during the last three years the United States had manufactured
largely, though many people sighed for foreign goods.
There were two weeks in August when Madame Badeau went away for a
little rest and change of air. Mrs. Collaston decided to spend a
fortnight at Bladensburg, and though Aunt Jane cheerfully offered to
keep Annis, Jaqueline insisted upon adding her to the party. Little
Elizabeth Patricia, commonly called Bessie, and by her father Queen
Bess, was thriving wonderfully.
Jaqueline had changed a good deal, but she was a greater favorite
than ever, it seemed, and had no end of admirers. One of them, a very
popular and well-to-do gentleman, made her an offer of marriage.
"Are you really going to stay single forever?" exclaimed her sister.
"I wouldn't take Roger Carrington now if he asked me again. A man
who cannot overlook a little tiff--though you did flirt shamefully,
Jaqueline! But it doesn't much matter. I observe the men are just as
ready to be flirted with again. Only don't wait too long, and don't
pass by the good chances."
Having made an excellent marriage herself, she considered that her
counsel and advice were worth a good deal to her unmarried friends.
Roger Carrington seemed to have passed out of Jaqueline's radius,
whether purposely or not. Ralston spent much of his time out of
Washington, inspecting and planning fortifications. Jaqueline kept up a
friendly, occasional correspondence with him, and he had been strongly
interested about Charles' mishap.
She was much too proud to allow herself to think she still cared for
Roger, yet she admitted in her secret heart she had seen no one to put
in his place, though there might be men quite as worthy.
Dr. Collaston went up to Philadelphia for a few days, and learned
that his worst fears in regard to Charles had been realized. The most
celebrated surgeon at that time, who bade fair to do quite as much for
the advancement of medicine as Dr. Benjamin Rush had done in his day, a
Dr. Physic, had been noting the case carefully, and decided that only
an operation could prevent a settled deformity. Charles was growing
stronger in some respects, and when the weather became cooler this
would be undertaken.
He told the elders, but they kept Annis in ignorance. She went back to
school; and, though she had been small for her age, seemed suddenly to
shoot up and outgrow everything.
"And I shall not be little Annis any longer. I suppose everybody does
grow taller and older. And now I am past thirteen. When shall I be old
enough to curtsey to Mrs. Madison?"
"Oh, you can do that at any time. And since Varina has gone to
Charleston to visit Dolly Floyd, you ought to have some indulgence. She
has been to a reception at the Governor's."
The election of Madison for a second term had been largely the result
of the victories that had thrilled the nation. The navy was springing
into existence as if by magic. Some fine English ships had been
captured and graced by the Stars and Stripes, and were doing brilliant
work under their new colors.
The _Constellation_ came up the Potomac, gayly decorated with flags
and bunting, and Captain Stewart gave a grand dinner, at which the
President and his wife and Mrs. Madison's son, then a handsome and
elegantly bred young man, were among the most distinguished guests.
Louis had obtained cards for himself and lady through Judge Todd.
"You look pretty enough to be married," said Annis when she saw
Jaqueline in her pretty pink gauze gown, the lace on it run with
silver threads, and her dainty slippers with silver buckles set with
brilliants that certainly did twinkle. The dinner was spread with every
luxury the season afforded, and enhanced by the brilliant lights and
profusion of cut-glass with its sparkling points. While the elders sat
on the quarterdeck surrounded by some of the chief men of the nation,
beneath an awning of red, white, and blue danced the belles and beaus.
Lieutenant Ralston had come late, but he was in time for the dancing.
When he caught sight of Jaqueline he made his way over to her.
"It has been so long since I have seen you!" he exclaimed. "And I
really had not thought of meeting you to-night, but I shall be in
Washington for a fortnight or more. And gay, pretty Patty has settled
into a pattern wife and mother! Does she read you lectures?"
"Sometimes," returned Jaqueline, smiling.
"Tell me about all the others. It seems an age since I have heard of
any of you."
"Then if you make such a little account of my letters I shall not write
you any more."
"Nay, do not be so cruel. You can hardly call them letters, they are
so brief. Still, I am glad to get them, and feel anxious about the poor
little boy. You think he will recover?"
"Dr. Physic holds out hopes of a successful termination. But it will be
very slow."
"And that dainty little Annis? You are mothering her? Do you know,
your charming solicitude made me smile. Was she much homesick after her
mother?"
"Only a little at first. She goes to school and is wonderfully
interested."
"And Varina? Our little wasp?" laughingly.
"Varina is spending the winter with Dolly. You know she married a Floyd
connection. He has been elected a member of the State legislature this
winter. Varina is quite a young lady. We Masons have a trick of growing
up soon."
"And your grandmother? How fares it with her?"
Jaqueline smiled inwardly at this mark of respect, and retailed
the little happenings at the Pineries. He listened attentively when
Marian's name was mentioned, and made no bitter comment. Was it utter
indifference?
"This is our dance," he said, offering his hand; and they glided down
the polished deck. Then someone else came for her, and she saw very
little more of him until he marched up to bid her good-by and assure
her he should call speedily.
"What a fine fellow Ralston has made!" Louis said as they were
returning home. "He has half a mind to go in the navy, he tells me.
They are winning all the glory. But he is very eager about the defenses
of Washington. I do wonder if there is any real danger?"
"Oh, I hope not!" anxiously.
"No; we do not want the war brought to our door."
"New York or Boston will offer greater attractions. The enemy is raging
over the loss of the _Guerrière_, and threatens desperate revenge. Oh,
we are safe enough!"
Annis was eager to hear all about the ball. Was it prettier because
it was on a ship? And wasn't Jaqueline glad to see Lieutenant Ralston
again? Did anyone have a more beautiful frock?
"Oh, yes!" laughed Jaqueline.
"But no one was any prettier, I am sure," she said confidently.
The enthusiasm over the victories was running high. The news came
of Commodore Decatur's famous victory off the Canary Islands, when
he captured the _Macedonian_ after an hour and a half of terrific
fighting, with the loss of only five men killed and seven wounded. The
_United States_ brought her prize into New York amid great rejoicing.
The news was hailed in Washington with the utmost enthusiasm. It so
happened that the evening had been selected for a brilliant naval ball,
to celebrate the two other victories, and as a compliment to Captain
Stewart. Ralston had been in a few days before with invitations for the
Collaston household.
"I almost wish I was grown up," said Annis wistfully. "Can't little
girls ever see anything?"
"Why, she ought to go," declared Ralston. "There may not be such
another event until peace is declared, and if we go on this way, it
must be, ere long. But it will be a great thing to remember in years to
come. Think of the old ladies who saw our beloved Washington and the
heroes of the Revolution, how glad they are to talk it all over! Oh,
Annis must go, by all means!"
"But such a mere child!" said Patty.
"Well, she has eyes and ears. I will take her myself. Mistress Annis
Mason, may I have the pleasure of escorting you to the grand naval
ball? It will give me a great deal of pleasure, I assure you. I am a
bachelor, fancy free, so no one's heart will be broken."
He rose as he said this, and crossed the room to where Annis was
sitting, leaning her arm on Jaqueline's knee.
The child colored and glanced up in a puzzled manner.
"Well--why do you not answer?" said Patty in amusement. "Madame Badeau
ought to train you in polite deportment."
"Can I say just what I should like?" a little timidly, glancing from
one sister to the other.
"Yes," answered Patty laughingly. "Yes," said Jaqueline a little more
gravely.
Annis rose and made a formal little courtesy, holding the side of her
skirt with charming grace.
"It will afford me the greatest pleasure to accept your invitation,
Lieutenant Ralston," she said in a stately and dignified manner.
"Thank you! That is very handsomely done. After this show of proper and
ceremonious behavior you cannot refuse her permission?" turning to the
elders.
"We are vanquished, certainly," admitted Patty. "Now you may be good
enough, perhaps, to tell us what she must wear."
He glanced her over. "Some simple white frock," he said. "Then you
might tie a red ribbon in her hair, and put on her a blue sash, and she
will be the national colors."
"Luckily her hair isn't golden or red or black, so we shall not startle
anyone."
"Now, remember there is no white feather to be shown," said the
lieutenant. "You may be a soldier's wife some day."
Annis blushed.
Later, when she was alone with Jaqueline, she put her arms about the
elder's neck.
"Dear Jaqueline," she said with a tender accent, "do you think you will
like my going to the ball? If it isn't quite right I will stay at home.
And are you sure the lieutenant was in earnest?"
"There is no reason why you should not go, except that children are
not generally taken to balls. And it will be a grand thing for you to
remember."
Annis kissed her, much relieved.
"I do so want to go," she returned after a little pause.
And that morning the news was announced by an extra from the office
of the _National Intelligencer_. People went about in high spirits. As
soon as the twilight appeared illuminations sprang up at many important
points. Private houses were aglow from every window, and more than
one flag waved. Washington was full of gayety and rejoicing. And some
who did not go to the ball had strains of patriotic music to cheer the
passer-by.
Entertainments began early. Tomlinson's Hotel was soon filled with
guests, the beauty and fashion of the city. The captured flags of
the _Alert_ and _Guerrière_ were arranged over a sort of dais where
Mrs. Madison and the Cabinet ladies sat, while the secretaries stood
about them. There was a host of military and naval men. Gold lace and
epaulettes and swords gleamed with every movement, while women were
lovely in satins and velvets and laces. Mrs. Madison wore a handsome
gray velvet, trimmed with yellow satin and lace, and on her head a
filmy sort of turban with some short white plumes. A neckerchief of
fine soft lace rested lightly on her shoulders, but displayed the
still beautiful throat and neck. The little curls across her forehead
were still jet-black, and though women powdered and rouged, she was
one of the few who "wore a natural complexion," said a newspaper
correspondent.
One and another made a bow to her and passed on. Dr. Collaston and his
wife, Jaqueline and a handsome young naval officer, and then Lieutenant
Ralston and his young charge. Annis was a little bewildered. She had
seen Mrs. Madison in the carriage, and at times walking about the
grounds at the White House; but this really awed her, and a rush of
color came to her fair face. Mrs. Madison held out her hand, and gave
her a kindly greeting.
"What a pretty child!" she said to one of the ladies. "The American
colors, too. How proud the lieutenant was of her! I remember now that
Miss Jaqueline Mason is quite a belle. Perhaps it is her sister."
"That was beautifully done, Annis," whispered the lieutenant. "Now
there is a friend of mine, a young midshipman, that you must meet. Will
it be out of order for you to dance, I wonder? And there is Captain
Hull. You must see all the heroes, so you can tell the story over your
grandchildren."
It seemed to Annis that everyone must be a hero. There was the young
middy, a Mr. Yardley, who did not look over sixteen, and who was going
out on his first cruise next week.
"Has Miss Mason any relatives in the war?"
How queer "Miss Mason" sounded! She looked about to see who was meant.
The young man complimented her on her colors. He had a brother, a
lieutenant on the _Constitution_, and two cousins in the army on
the frontier. We should gain the victory again, as we did in the
Revolution. As a boy he used to be sorry he had not lived then, but
this made amends. Only, nothing could compensate for not having seen
Washington, the hero of them all.
Presently the dancing began. Mrs. Collaston and Jaqueline were both
engaged, but Jaqueline put Annis in charge of a charming middle-aged
woman whose daughters were dancing, and who, being a Virginian and
residing at Yorktown, could recall all the particulars of the surrender
of Lord Cornwallis.
Then Annis had her promised dance with the lieutenant. It was like
a bit of fairyland. She thought Cinderella could not have been any
happier with the prince. Afterward Mr. Yardley came, though by this
time the floor was pretty well crowded. He was about to lead her back
to Jaqueline, who was talking with Mrs. Todd, when she stopped suddenly
and put out her hand.
"Oh!" she cried, then turned rosy-red.
"Is it--why, it is little Annis Bouvier! Child, how you have grown! Do
they let you go to balls as young as this?"
"I wanted to so much. And it is beautiful! They are all here----"
There was a sudden commotion. Half a dozen gentlemen cut off their
retreat. Then a whisper went round the room, growing louder and louder,
and cheers sounded in the hallway.
"Ensign Hamilton with the captured flag!"
Secretary Hamilton rose, and the throng made way for him. Just at the
doorway they met, the son with dispatches from Commodore Decatur and
the captured colors of the _Macedonian_. A cheer almost rent the room.
And as he advanced his mother met him with a clasp of wordless joy.
The President had been detained on some important business. But the
procession made its way to the dais where the ladies were sitting, and
the trophy of victory was unfurled amid loud acclamations. The band
played "Hail, Columbia!" and when it ceased the young man modestly made
a brief speech. The dispatches were for the President; the flag he laid
at Mrs. Madison's feet--the flag that was next of kin to that of the
_Guerrière_.
The enthusiasm was so great that the dancing stopped. The flag was
raised to a place beside that of the other two trophies. Old veterans
wiped their eyes, the ladies waved their handkerchiefs, and more than
one voice had a break in it.
Annis stood breathless. Mr. Carrington towered above her, and he could
barely see; but he had heard the story in the hall, and was repeating
it. The clasp of her soft hand touched him.
"If you want to go nearer," he said to Mr. Yardley, "I will take care
of Miss Annis. I am an old friend of the family."
"It would be hopeless to think of getting her to her sister's just now.
Yes--I should like to see young Hamilton."
"That is excuse enough for anyone," and Carrington smiled, bowing a
polite dismissal.
"I am so glad to find you!" Annis said with childlike simplicity. "We
have missed you so much. Where have you been all this long time?"
"We? Who?" He bowed his head a little.
"Charles and I. And do you know Charles is ill and in the doctor's
hands at Philadelphia?"
"No; I have been away three months--up on the northern frontier and in
Boston. Poor Charles! Is he likely to recover?"
"He was to come home at Christmas, but he can't now," and she sighed a
little. "And papa too," irrelevantly thinking of his earlier question.
"We were all sorry."
"I don't think everybody could have been," after a little pause.
She raised her soft, beseeching eyes. "Are you still angry with
Jaqueline?" she asked. "I am sure she is sorry. Patty teases her and
says she will be an old maid because----"
Then Annis hung her pretty head.
"What makes you think she was sorry?"
He looked down into the eyes with an infinite persuasion, and his voice
had an accent hard to resist.
"Oh!--because--she was sometimes so sad and sweet, and used to go
walking by herself in the twilight. Occasionally she would let me come.
I can't quite tell--there are some things you feel. And it isn't right
to keep angry forever."
The child's tone was more assured. She was on firmer moral ground.
"Then you think I have been angry long enough?" It had seemed years to
him.
"Papa was very angry and scolded Jaqueline, but didn't keep angry.
Charles and I have been so sorry! Oh, you will make up friends?"
"You love Charles as much as ever, then? Happy Charles! When you have
love you have all the best of life."
"Then why don't you ask Jaqueline to love you again? Oh, I am sure she
would!"
There was a sweet seriousness in the face and the tone, the innocence
of the child.
"And why didn't you go to Philadelphia?" he asked presently.
"I wanted to. Don't you think it hard for a little girl to be giving
up her mother continually? But if it is best----They could not take
me, and Jaqueline said she would be like mamma, and love me and care
for me. She is ever so sweet. And Patty and the baby are delightful. I
like Dr. Collaston too. And I am going to school to a queer, delightful
little French woman, Madame Badeau. And the French I used to know out
in Kentucky all comes back to me."
"Yes," smilingly. "I have seen Madame Badeau." The throng was beginning
to move. "Suppose we go up and have a look at this wonderful flag?
I think war terrible; but it is good to be on the winning side, and
certainly our poor sailors have suffered long enough. When we are
a terror to our enemies they will learn to respect us. But, thank
Heaven, you know nothing about the terrible side here! May God keep you
safely!"
She raised her eyes with a grave half-smile as if to thank him for his
benison.
The President had come in now. The band was playing patriotic tunes,
several inspiriting Scotch pieces, for just now no one seemed anxious
to dance. Ensign Hamilton was one of the heroes of the occasion, and
the pretty women were saying all manner of complimentary things to him.
There in the throng stood Lieutenant Ralston and Midshipman Yardley,
and, yes, there were Dr. and Mrs. Collaston.
Jaqueline was out of the group, listening to a vivid account of the
taking of the _Guerrière_ and the gala time there had been in old
Boston Town.
Patricia turned and espied Annis, who held her head up proudly and
looked as if she were used to going to balls every week of her life.
"Oh, Mr. Carrington!" reaching over a cordial hand. "What a stranger
you are! I felt I ought to go in search of Annis, but I knew she was
in good hands. Thank you for your care of her. Wasn't it all grand? Are
you not proud of your country?"
"We have worked wonders on the sea, considering how unprepared we were
and the strength of the enemy. I am no croaker, but we are not through
yet. Heaven grant that we may be successful to the end! After all,
we are a young nation; and we have fought in almost a new cause, the
enlightenment of the people, not the glory or gain of kings."
"Annis, come and curtsey to some of these heroes. She is over-young for
such a place as this, but it will be a proud thing to remember."
The throng shifted again. Ralston stepped aside and encountered Mr.
Carrington.
"Roger, old fellow,"--and though his tone was low it had a cordial
heartiness,--"in this time of gratulation private feuds ought to be
buried. You were wrong in your surmise, as I told you then. Between
myself and Miss Mason there has never been anything but the sincerest
friendliness. Still, I asked her to marry me and she declined. Hearts
are not so easily caught in the rebound, after all. And though she
has many admirers she has not been won. Let us be friends again in her
honor, for her sake."
"For our own sake, Ralston. If we are ever to make a grand country we
must be united man to man. There is need enough of it. A scene like
this will go far toward healing many dissensions, public and private.
And I beg you to pardon what I said out of a sore and desperate heart."
"Friends!" repeated Ralston joyously.