Ah! their talk was not about state affairs, foreign or domestic policy, duties, imports, war, peace—­no! their talk was of their boyhood’s days, spent together; of the holidays they had had; of the orchards they had robbed; of the well-merited thrashings they had got; and of the good old schoolmaster, long since dust and ashes, who had lectured and flogged them!

Claudia listened, and loved the old man more, that he could turn from the memory of his bloody victories, the presence of his political cares, and the prospects of a divided cabinet, to refresh himself with the green reminiscences of his boyhood’s days.  It was impossible for the young girl to feel so much sympathy without betraying it and attracting the attention of the old man.  He looked at her.  He had shaken hands with her, and said that he was glad to see her, when she was presented to him in his presence chamber; but he had not really seen her; she had been only one of the passing crowd of courtesiers for whom he felt a wholesale kindness and expressed a wholesale good-will; now, however, he looked at her—­now he saw her.

Sixty-five years had whitened the hair of General ——­, but he was not insensible to the charms of beauty; nor unconscious of his own power of conferring honor upon beauty.

Rising, therefore, with all the stately courtesy of the old school gentleman, he offered his arm to Miss Merlin for a promenade through the rooms.

With a sweet smile, Claudia arose, and once more became the cynosure of all eyes and the envy of all hearts.  A few turns through the rooms, and the President brought the beauty back, seated her, and took his own seat beside her on the sofa.

But the cup of bitterness for the envious was not yet full.  Another hum and buzz went around the room, announcing some new event of great interest; which seemed to be a late arrival of much importance.

Presently the British minister and another gentleman were seen approaching the sofa where sat the President, Judge Merlin, Miss Merlin, and Mr. and Mrs. Middleton.  They paused immediately before the President, when the minister said: 

“Your Excellency, permit me to present to you the Viscount Vincent, late from London.”

The President arose and heartily shook hands with the young foreigner, cordially saying: 

“I am happy to see you, my lord; happy to welcome you to Washington.”

The viscount bowed low before the gray-haired old hero, saying, in a low tone: 

“I am glad to see the President of the United States; but I am proud to shake the hand of the conqueror of—­of—­”

The viscount paused, his memory suddenly failed him, for the life and soul of him he could not remember the names of those bloody fields where the General had won his laurels.

The President gracefully covered the hesitation of the viscount and evaded the compliment at the same time by turning to the ladies of his party and presenting his guest, saying: