Whenever she halted, she was presently surrounded by Ministers, Generals, Congressmen, and all manner of aristocratic, people.  Introductions followed, and then the usual original question, “How do you like Washington, Miss Hawkins?” supplemented by that other usual original question, “Is this your first visit?”

These two exciting topics being exhausted, conversation generally drifted into calmer channels, only to be interrupted at frequent intervals by new introductions and new inquiries as to how Laura liked the capital and whether it was her first visit or not.  And thus for an hour or more the Duchess moved through the crush in a rapture of happiness, for her doubts were dead and gone, now she knew she could conquer here.  A familiar face appeared in the midst of the multitude and Harry Brierly fought his difficult way to her side, his eyes shouting their gratification, so to speak: 

“Oh, this is a happiness!  Tell me, my dear Miss Hawkins—­”

“Sh!  I know what you are going to ask.  I do like Washington—­I like it ever so much!”

“No, but I was going to ask—­”

“Yes, I am coming to it, coming to it as fast as I can.  It is my first visit.  I think you should know that yourself.”

And straightway a wave of the crowd swept her beyond his reach.

“Now what can the girl mean?  Of course she likes Washington—­I’m not such a dummy as to have to ask her that.  And as to its being her first visit, why bang it, she knows that I knew it was.  Does she think I have turned idiot?  Curious girl, anyway.  But how they do swarm about her!  She is the reigning belle of Washington after this night.  She’ll know five hundred of the heaviest guns in the town before this night’s nonsense is over.  And this isn’t even the beginning.  Just as I used to say—­she’ll be a card in the matter of—­yes sir!  She shall turn the men’s heads and I’ll turn the women’s!  What a team that will be in politics here.  I wouldn’t take a quarter of a million for what I can do in this present session—­no indeed I wouldn’t.  Now, here—­I don’t altogether like this.  That insignificant secretary of legation is—­why, she’s smiling on him as if he—­and now on the Admiral!  Now she’s illuminating that, stuffy Congressman from Massachusetts—­vulgar ungrammatcal shovel-maker—­greasy knave of spades.  I don’t like this sort of thing.  She doesn’t appear to be much distressed about me—­she hasn’t looked this way once.  All right, my bird of Paradise, if it suits you, go on.  But I think I know your sex.  I’ll go to smiling around a little, too, and see what effect that will have on you”