On that summer evening forty years ago, when Virginia and Eugenie came in sight of the house, a scene of great animation was before them.  Talk was rife over the commanding general’s pomp and circumstance.  He had just returned from Europe, where pomp and circumstance and the military were wedded.  Foreign officers should come to America to teach our army dress and manners.  A dashing Hungarian commanded the general’s body-guard, which honorable corps was even then drawn up in the street before the house, surrounded at a respectable distance by a crowd that feared to jest.  They felt like it save when they caught the stern military eye of the Hungarian captain.  Virginia gazed at the glittering uniforms, resplendent in the sun, and at the sleek and well-fed horses, and scalding tears came as she thought of the half-starved rabble of Southern patriots on the burning prairies.  Just then a sharp command escaped in broken English from the Hungarian.  The people in the yard of the mansion parted, and the General himself walked proudly out of the gate to the curb, where his charger was pawing the gutter.  As he put foot to the stirrup, the eye of the great man (once candidate, and again to be, for President) caught the glint of red and white on the corner.  For an instant he stood transfixed to the spot, with one leg in the air.  Then he took it down again and spoke to a young officer of his staff, who smiled and began to walk toward them.  Little Eugenie’s knees trembled.  She seized Virginia’s arm, and whispered in agony.

“Oh, Jinny, you are to be arrested, after all.  Oh, I wish you hadn’t been so bold!”

“Hush,” said Virginia, as she prepared to slay the young officer with a look.  She felt like flying at his throat, and choking him for the insolence of that smile.  How dare he march undaunted to within six paces of those eyes?  The crowd drew back, But did Miss Carvel retreat?  Not a step.  “Oh, I hope he will arrest me,” she said passionately, to Eugenie.  “He will start a conflagration beyond the power of any Yankee to quell.”

But hush! he was speaking.  “You are my prisoners”?  No, those were not the words, surely.  The lieutenant had taken off his cap.  He bowed very low and said: 

“Ladies, the General’s compliments, and he begs that this much of the sidewalk may be kept clear for a few moments.”

What was left for them, after that, save a retreat?  But he was not precipitate.  Miss Virginia crossed the street with a dignity and bearing which drew even the eyes of the body-guard to one side.  And there she stood haughtily until the guard and the General had thundered away.  A crowd of black-coated civilians, and quartermasters and other officers in uniform, poured out of the basement of the house into the yards.  One civilian, a youngish man a little inclined to stoutness, stopped at the gate, stared, then thrust some papers in his pocket and hurried down the side street.  Three blocks thence he appeared abreast of Miss Carvel.  More remarkable still, he lifted his hat clear of his head.  Virginia drew back.  Mr. Hopper, with his newly acquired equanimity and poise, startled her.