"For goodness sake," prodded Bobby impatiently, "what were you doing back there? We nearly went off and left you. Where did you find her, Betty?"
"I was in the music room," announced Libbie with dignity. "I wanted to see the harpsichord. Say, girls, did you know Washington gave that to Nellie Custis when she was married? He wore his uniform when he gave her away, and—"
"Well, for pity's sake!" Bobby's disgust was ludicrous. "Trust Libbie to dig up a romance wherever she goes. What else did you find connected with weddings, Lib?"
Libbie was inclined to be ruffled, but Mrs. Littell soothed the troubled waters by telling them that the old barn, which they had reached by this time, was built in 1733 by Washington's father and that the bricks were supposed to have been imported from England.
The beautiful old formal garden further mellowed their tempers, for it was impossible to say sharp things walking along the very paths which George Washington had often trod and between the rows of box brushed by the silken skirts of Mrs. Washington. Where her rose bushes used to be are planted others, and Mrs. Littell assured the girls that it was one of the great pleasures of the First Lady of the Land to gather rose leaves for her potpourri jars and to make a perfumed unguent for which she was famous among her friends.
"She was a wonderful housekeeper," added Mrs. Littell, smiling at Libbie, whose momentary resentment had quickly faded, "and a very fine manager. We are told that she was thoroughly domestic in her tastes and that she made her husband ideally happy."
Presently Carter came with a hamper of luncheon and their appetites did full justice to Mammy Lou's dainties. Betty wondered, sitting on the grass, the Potomac flowing lazily several feet below, whether she was dreaming and might not wake up to find herself at Bramble Farm with Mr. Peabody scolding vigorously because something had not gone to suit him. She often had this odd feeling that her present happiness could not be real.
This, too, brought the thought of her uncle to her mind, and again she wondered if she would ever hear from him—if something dreadful had not happened to him, leaving her almost as much alone in the world as Bob Henderson. She shivered a little, then resolutely threw herself into the chatter of the other girls and soon forgot all but the present pleasure and excitement.
After rambling about the grounds another hour or so, the party from Fairfield was ready to go, and they all found it restful to lean back in the comfortable car and spin back to the city.
"If you're not too tired I think we might drive down Pennsylvania Avenue," suggested Mrs. Littell. "Our guests haven't seen the White House yet, have they?"