My conservatism and just slowness cut, however, no figure, since, as I tell you, with the moment I clapped eyes upon her, I changed to be her knight—her champion; and thereafter I matched even the torrid General in fire for her cause.
I was in talk with the General when news reached me of Peg waiting in the parlor for a meeting. It was Jim who bore me word; he peered around the corner of the door and with rolling' eye as one who brings bad tidings, beckoned me into the hallway.
“What is it?” I demanded impatiently.
I should tell you, perhaps, that Jim was more than twenty years my senior, and nearing on to three score years and ten. This may explain that attitude of mentor, not to say protector, of my morals which it was his pleasure to hold towards me.
“What is it? Speak up!”
Jim shook his grizzled head, and his look was loaded of reproof.
“See yere, Marse Major,” said Jim; “dish yere aint Tennessee where you-all kin do as you please. What you reckon now Marse Gen'ral would gwine say to sech cat-an'-fiddle doin's?”
“And now what's wrong?” I inquired; humbly enough, for I was much beneath Jim's sway.
“Marse Major, lemme ask you,” said Jim, and with that he fixed me with his old eye like an inquisitor; “lemme ask you: Does you-all send for to meet a young lady?”
“Certainly not,” I replied. “Do you think I've come to Washington to meet young ladies?” This last indignantly.