Betsy could see, in imagination, how pretty and gay the town would be. People in their carriages and coaches would be there from miles around. Every one would be joyous and so proud to do honor to the Greatest American. It was hours too early for him to be there yet, but here they were gathering to greet him.
“I am brave, but it seems as if I must cry just a little bit,” Betsy buried her head in her sewing. But before she had shed a tear, a man’s voice startled her. She looked up.
He was very tall and straight, and wore the beautiful, rich costume of the Colonies. His velvet knee breeches, silver-buckled shoes, gold-embroidered coat, and white wig showed Betsy that he was a personage of importance. But he stood before her with his three-cornered hat in his hand and bowed to her quite as if she had been a young lady.
“Good morning, little lass of Salisbury,” he said in his deep, kind voice, pointing to her sewing. “You are an industrious child, such an one as I like to see growing up in this new land. You work betimes in the day, and with the birds.”
Betsy rose and dropped a deep curtsey to the stranger. She must have looked very winsome to him in her pink calico dress, white apron, and with her cheeks flushed to a rose color in excitement.
“My mother has taught me that work comes before play, and always in the morning,” Betsy explained. “What is your pleasure, sir!” she went on. “I am the mistress of the Brandon plantation for the day. My mother is called away by the illness of my Aunt Tabitha and I am taking care of grandmother and the maids in her absence. It is a sore disappointment to me, sir. I was to have been a flower girl in the village and walked with our guest of honor of the day, Mr. Washington.”
The stranger came up the steps, and took a chair beside Betsy.
“You wanted very much to see him?” he asked. “Why?”
“Because President Washington is a great soldier, and the most important man in the United States,” Betsy answered, her hands clasped, and her eyes shining with excitement.
The man smiled. “I know him,” he said. “Did it ever occur to you, little lass of Salisbury, that perhaps Mr. Washington is a great deal like other Americans. He loves the earth,” he pointed to the wide expanse of the fertile Brandon acres. “Perhaps, too, he likes to try new roads as I have done this morning. I have come a long distance,” he said, “and am tired and hungry. I left my carriage at the entrance to your plantation, and the driveway looked so pleasant and quiet that I walked along it until I came to your house. May I ask you for food and drink, little Mistress of the Mansion?”