with a little laugh and ran plump into a man who had been hastening
toward her. The sight of her in the arms of a stranger brought me to my
senses, and I stopped dead where I was.

"'Tis Mr. Washington!" she cried, looking up into his face, and as he set
her gently on her feet, she held out her hand to him. He raised it to his
lips with a courtly grace I greatly envied. "Mr. Washington, this is my
cousin, Thomas Stewart."

"I am very happy to meet Mr. Stewart," he said, and he grasped my
hand with a heartiness which warmed my heart. I had to look up to
meet his eyes, for he must have been an inch or two better than six
feet in height, and of a most commanding presence. His eyes were
blue-gray, penetrating, and overhung by a heavy brow, his face long
rather than broad, with high, round cheekbones and a large mouth,
which could smile most agreeably, or--as I was afterward to
learn--close in a firm, straight line with dogged resolution. At this
moment his face was luminous with joy, and he was plainly laboring
under some intense emotion.

"Where is my mother, Dolly?" he asked. "I have news for her."

"She is in the reception hall with the governor's wife," she answered.
"But may we not have your news, Mr. Washington?"

He paused and looked back at her a moment.

"'T is all settled," he said, "and I am to start at once."

"I was right, then!" she cried, her eyes sparkling in sympathy with