A woman's counsel brought us first to woe.--_Dryden_.


"Wait!" she said. "We shall have candles." She clapped her hands
sharply, and again there entered the silent old serving-woman, who,
obedient to a gesture, proceeded to light additional candles in the
prism stands and sconces. The apartment was now distinct in all its
details under this additional flood of light. Decently as I might I
looked about. I was forced to stifle the exclamation of surprise which
rose to my lips.

We were plain folk enough in Washington at that time. The ceremonious
days of our first presidents had passed for the democratic time of
Jefferson and Jackson; and even under Mr. Van Buren there had been
little change from the simplicity which was somewhat our boast.
Washington itself was at that time scarcely more than an overgrown
hamlet, not in the least to be compared to the cosmopolitan centers
which made the capitals of the Old World. Formality and stateliness of a
certain sort we had, but of luxury we knew little. There was at that
time, as I well knew, no state apartment in the city which in sheer
splendor could for a moment compare with this secret abode of a woman
practically unknown. Here certainly was European luxury transferred to
our shores. This in simple Washington, with its vast white unfinished
capitol, its piecemeal miles of mixed residences, boarding-houses,
hotels, restaurants, and hovels! I fancied stern Andrew Jackson or plain
John Calhoun here!

The furniture I discovered to be exquisite in detail, of rosewood and
mahogany, with many brass chasings and carvings, after the fashion of