Washington was certainly looking up. Handsome houses were being built, and famous men were to be seen in the streets and at the different entertainments. There were weekly dinner parties at the White House, managed with such tact that no one was affronted, those left out knowing their turn would come next.
Jane and Mr. Jettson had an engagement that evening—"a dinner where they are going to talk improvements and the best way of getting a grant from Congress; no dancing and no nice young men to flatter a lady," declared Mr. Jettson. "Jane thinks them tiresome, but she can put in a word now and then, since it is our bread and butter."
"Oh, I'd rather stay at home! There is that 'Lay of the Last Minstrel' to read. Who is this wonderful new poet? Aunt Catharine made me read 'The Course of Time' when I paid her my visit; aloud, too, so I couldn't skip much, but it was dreadfully tiresome. This goes along with a rush."
So Jaqueline settled herself in the easiest chair she could find, and put her feet on the rounds of another. The candles gave a softened light; but in spite of interest she was getting drowsy when there was a hasty knock and a discussion in the hall. Then Sam opened the door and ushered in Lieutenant Ralston.
"I hope you won't think me a nuisance," as Jaqueline was straightening herself up in some confusion, and feeling if the knot of abundant hair was on the top of her head or pushed over one side. "I'm sorry Mrs. Jettson is out, and I recall the fact now that she had an engagement. But I am very glad to see you, selfishly glad. Do I interrupt anything important?"
"Oh, no!" She held out her hand cordially.
"You were up to the Pineries," he began abruptly. "Did Marian seem—"
"We didn't think her real happy." Jaqueline hesitated. How much ought she to admit?
"I wrote her a letter. I wanted to know the truth. You see, I have been perfectly honorable. I told her I would wait seven years or twice seven years, and she promised to do the same. I couldn't believe she accepted this man of her own free will. And then I wrote, taking precautions to have it reach her. It has been opened and returned to me without a word. Here it is. That is not Miss Floyd's handwriting."