The dinner at night was informal. Colonel Lee had invited three personal
friends from Washington. He hoped in the touch of the minds of these
leaders to find some relief from the uneasiness with which the reading
of Mrs. Stowe's book had shadowed his imagination.

The man about whom he was curious was Stephen A. Douglas of Illinois,
the most brilliant figure in the Senate. In the best sense he
represented the national ideal. A Northern man, he had always viewed the
opinions and principles of the South with broad sympathy.

The new Senator from Georgia, on the other hand, had made a sensation in
the house as the radical leader of the South. Lee wondered if he were as
dangerous a man as the conservative members of the Whig party thought.
Toombs had voted the Whig ticket, but his speeches on the rights of the
South on the Slavery issues had set him in a class by himself.

Mr. and Mrs. Pryor had spent the night of the dance at Arlington and had
consented to stay for dinner.

Douglas had captured the young Virginia congressman. And Mrs. Douglas
had become an intimate friend of Mrs. Pryor.

When Douglas entered the library and pressed Lee's hand, the master
of Arlington studied him with keen interest. He was easily the most
impressive figure in American politics. The death of Calhoun and Clay
and the sudden passing of Webster had left but one giant on the floor of
the Senate. They called him the "Little Giant." He was still a giant.
He had sensed the approaching storm of crowd madness and had sought the