"Oh!" she cried, then turned rosy-red.
"Is it—why, it is little Annis Bouvier! Child, how you have grown! Do they let you go to balls as young as this?"
"I wanted to so much. And it is beautiful! They are all here—"
There was a sudden commotion. Half a dozen gentlemen cut off their retreat. Then a whisper went round the room, growing louder and louder, and cheers sounded in the hallway.
"Ensign Hamilton with the captured flag!"
Secretary Hamilton rose, and the throng made way for him. Just at the doorway they met, the son with dispatches from Commodore Decatur and the captured colors of the Macedonian. A cheer almost rent the room. And as he advanced his mother met him with a clasp of wordless joy.
The President had been detained on some important business. But the procession made its way to the dais where the ladies were sitting, and the trophy of victory was unfurled amid loud acclamations. The band played "Hail, Columbia!" and when it ceased the young man modestly made a brief speech. The dispatches were for the President; the flag he laid at Mrs. Madison's feet—the flag that was next of kin to that of the Guerrière.
The enthusiasm was so great that the dancing stopped. The flag was raised to a place beside that of the other two trophies. Old veterans wiped their eyes, the ladies waved their handkerchiefs, and more than one voice had a break in it.
Annis stood breathless. Mr. Carrington towered above her, and he could barely see; but he had heard the story in the hall, and was repeating it. The clasp of her soft hand touched him.
"If you want to go nearer," he said to Mr. Yardley, "I will take care of Miss Annis. I am an old friend of the family."