Thus to publicly drum him out of camp was a thought too hardy. However, Pigeon-breast had wrought for what he received, and I think, too, Peg was more moved by the audacious fun of the business than any darkling taste to have a vengeance, for all her word.
The General, I am minded, was of my view; it was the frolic of the thing to carry Peg away.
“Peg is young,” quoth the General, amiably; “our Peg is young. What would you have? She shall be older one day and more upon dignity. What shall more bound and frisk and play than your scapegrace kitten? And yet what more gravely decorous than your cat? By Joshua's horn! on the whole, I'm glad your Pigeon-breast was brought up with a round turn.”
It was one afternoon when the General came to me with a request that I seek out Noah at the Indian Queen and confer with him over the merits of a gentleman who lusted to hold a certain office.
“This individual comes to me well spoken of,” said the General, “and yet I would know more of him, and that from one who has no axe to be grinded.”
While I made ready for my walk to the Indian Queen, the General unpouched another piece of interesting news.
“By the way,” said he, “our Peg has settled on April as a time for that dinner and ball. She would have had it sooner; but she does not now need the White House for any direct aid to her arms. She will save it for the close, and make the affair a sort of celebration.”
“It is a good thought,” said I. “It is wiser, since she has won her way with what should be her own resources, not to subtract from that success by any full blown movement of the White House upon the scene. Mean folk would say she could not have come through without you to be her ally.”
“And that is my notion, too!” coincided the General. “Peg's position is complete; the White House now would but divide her glory. We will offer her our East Room courtesies in April, and let it be for an old-time Roman triumph as when a victor returns from war. Peg well deserves a triumph; the Vice-Presidential coterie and all whom it might control have moved heaven and earth for Peg's disaster and pulled and hauled like common sailor-folk on any rope to do her harm.”
“Does not April,” said I, “mark an unheard-of span for your social season? I had thought it might end with Lent.”